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Chapter Text

They tried to piece it together later, but the truth was this – none of them were quite sure what had happened.

(Well, Jiang Cheng thought that Wei Wuxian might have some idea, given that he had been the one to write those damn talismans in the first place, but even he had enough self-restraint to realise trying to throttle his annoying older brother would probably not bode well for the tentative peace they’d only just established.)

(That, and also, he had enough of a sense of self-preservation not to want to duel Hanguang-Jun to the death just at this time.)

It had all started innocently enough, with Jiang Cheng dropping off A-Ling for a joint training session with some of the Lan disciples. (And despite his protests, his nephew was definitely not old enough to fly the entire way from Koi Tower by himself. Especially not if Jiang Cheng was already there anyway to help him settle into being Jin Sect Leader.

On second thought, Jiang Cheng was possibly experiencing some issues letting the boy go.)

Anyway, since he was already in the Cloud Recesses, he figured – why not visit Wei Wuxian, maybe finally convince him to come to Lotus Pier for the next season.

Not that he cared. It was just that the disciples had been asking to see their former da-shixiong again, and he’d learned in his long years of being Sect Leader that a happy disciple made for a loyal, dedicated disciple.

It had nothing to do with his own wishes. At all. Really.

So, it was definitely only for the purpose of being a benevolent Sect Leader that he found himself on the path leading to the jingshi. Jiang Cheng would have wondered if Hanguang-Jun’s old rooms were really big enough to house both him and his wayward brother, but he’d made it a principle never to think about what those two got up to behind the privacy of closed doors. He very much preferred his brains in a non-souplike state, thank you very much. Those two had been absolutely shameless since they’d gotten married.

It had been bad enough when Hanguang-Jun had shown up to the Sect Representative’s brunch meeting on the second day of the last Discussion Conference with a giant hickey on his neck that had not quite been hidden by the Lan-regulation-style collar of his robes. (Honestly, Jiang Cheng had been surprised somebody so proper hadn’t just spontaneously combusted when they’d realised they carried such an obvious mark of their night-time activities. Then again, Wei Wuxian had slept late that morning, so maybe it was just that nobody had pointed it out to him yet. Jiang Cheng certainly had had no desire to, and he couldn’t imagine any of the Lan disciples present being eager to either.)

As telling as that incident had been, it still couldn’t hold a candle to the noises he’d heard that night when he’d gotten turned around trying to find the Jiang guest section of the Unclean Realm and had ended up in the Gusu Lan section instead. (Possibly he should have eased off the alcohol on opening day until after the orientation section had concluded.).

He hadn’t even known Hanguang-Jun could be that loud. He definitely didn’t want a repeat performance.

Which was why, now that he’d learned his lesson, he stopped a safe distance away from the jingshi (while it wasn’t even dark yet, experience told him that with those two, you never knew) and called out.

Before long, there was movement inside, and soon after that, the door slid to the side and Wei Wuxian’s head poked out. Jiang Cheng would have been a liar had he denied that the way his brother’s eyes lit up when he saw him sent a pulse of happiness through his body, originating right between his heart and his golden core (Wei Wuxian’s golden core, but he was definitely not going to go there).

(Okay, he was a liar.)

“A-Cheng! Come in, come in! We were just about to start!”

“Start what?” Jiang Cheng grouched, considering whether it was worth reprimanding his brother for his use of overly familiar language as he entered. (It wasn’t. Nobody had called him A-Cheng for a long time until Wei Wuxian started to again, and that he hadn’t missed that was another lie he told himself).

(But then again, if he lied to himself in the privacy of his own head, that wasn’t anybody’s business but his own.)

“The experiment of course! Look.”

Jiang Cheng looked.

Hanguang-Jun was there – obviously –, kneeling on the wooden floor in the middle of the jingshi, surrounded by chalk marks and scraps of parchment marked over and over with Wei Wuxian’s superior penmanship.

(Wei Wuxian had surprisingly neat handwriting. At least, surprisingly neat to anybody who’d never studied talismans. Everybody who had knew a misplaced dian could very easily spell disaster, both figuratively and literally.)

The other man inclined his head. “Jiang Wanyin.”

“Hanguang-Jun.” Jiang Cheng bowed back as far as was proper for the occasion. He and Hanguang-Jun’s relationship was still a bit rocky – no surprise there, a decade of enmity couldn’t be put to rest that easily – though Hanguang-Jun had mellowed considerably in the time since Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian had mended their bridges.

At least, Jiang Cheng was happy to note, there currently didn’t seem to be a hickey or other related mark anywhere on his person.

“What are these?” He asked again, hoping for an actual answer this time.

“Oh, I found this in one of the scrolls in the restricted section in the Gusu Lan library! I’m not completely sure what they’re going to do, but the text promised something absolutely spectacular – half of the scroll was missing, unfortunately, a victim of, well –“ Wei Wuxian faltered for a moment but there was really no need to elaborate, none of them had forgotten the events that had happened, oh, almost twenty years ago now.

Damn, he was getting old.

Maybe it was time he seriously started cultivating for immortality.

Just as the silence was starting to get noticeable, his brother continued, “- anyway, it’s not dangerous – I checked for that, no explosions, invocations of poisons, gui or anything else alarming in the design, should be absolutely safe, so I figured, why not just try it?”

Jiang Cheng shifted his attention to his brother’s husband. “You okay with this?” If anything at all about Wei Wuxian acquiring clearly secret texts of the Gusu Lan sect in order to use them for play experimentation wasn’t strictly legal, the white-robed stickler for rules certainly wasn’t showing it.

“Mn.” The Chief Cultivator merely looked at Wei Wuxian with what even Jiang Cheng could identify as a besotted look on his face.

Figured. What else had he expected? Besides, it had become increasingly clear since the wedding that Wei Wuxian could do almost anything and Hanguang-Jun wouldn’t even bat an eyelid, if that hadn‘t been clear already. (Not that Jiang Cheng had ever seen Hanguang-Jun bat an eyelid at anything, but it was the thought that counted.)

While they’d been talking, the man responsible for this mess had been bustling around them, checking over his work.

“Sit down, sit down! Just – make sure you don’t smudge any of the chalk marks.”

Jiang Cheng lowered himself to the floor in the same meditative position Hanguang-Jun had settled in, making sure not to disturb any of the markings and parchments littering the floor in roughly concentric circles.

“You absolutely sure this isn’t going to blow up in our faces?”

Apart from everything else, A-Ling would never let him live it down if he were to get injured because of a stupid experiment.

Or possibly a prank. Jiang Cheng hadn’t completely ruled that out yet, either. After all, A-Ling’s visit to the Cloud Recesses wasn’t a secret, nor that Jiang Cheng was likely to accompany him there. (He was aware that Wei Wuxian had been keeping track of their shared nephew, eager to make up for lost time. Sometimes, he worried that, like so many other people in his life seemed to, his beloved A-Ling would start to favour his newer, more fun uncle once he got to know him better.

Jealousy had never been his best quality. Knowing that never seemed to help him avoid it, though.)

Wei Wuxian just laughed that annoying, high-pitched laugh of his (Jiang Cheng was getting to the stage where he was starting to forget again just how much he’d missed it all these years, and he supposed that was progress, too) as he sat down across from his husband and brother, completing the circle.

“Come on, Jiang Cheng, where is your sense of adventure? Now, just focus your qi on these sigils while I activate the circle…”

They followed his instructions, and for the next hour or so, everything seemed to proceed smoothly, if a bit uneventfully.

Until the wind started. Soft at first, barely noticeable in a flutter at the edges of the pieces of parchment surrounding them. Then all of a sudden, it grew fiercer, whirling the parchment up and around and, before any of them could react, they found themselves airborne as well.

The last thing Jiang Cheng noticed as he collided with Wei Wuxian mid-air and everything went dark was the giant hickey underneath his brother’s chin.

Chapter Text

Jiang Wanyin groaned, rolling over and batting at the annoying log that seemed to have lodged itself underneath him and insisted on digging straight into his liver. Strange – he couldn’t remember sleeping outside since A-Ling had gone through his camping-in-the-wild phase at age nine and he had felt compelled to secretly sneak after the boy and the other Jiang disciple hopefuls along for the trip.

(Sure, he could have just sent one of the senior disciples to covertly supervise, and he had forbidden the boys from going farther than five lis from Yunmeng proper anyway, but this was his nephew! Who knew what trouble would befall the boy if he wasn’t constantly kept track of?)

Suddenly, the log under Jiang Wanyin gave a yelp and started wriggling.

That wasn’t right.

Ripped out of his brief bout of nostalgia, Jiang Wanyin’s eyes shot open and he sat up.

“A-Cheng! Just a bit more, I’m tired…”

The supposed log revealed itself to be the arm of Wei Wuxian, who was lying on the floor of the jingshi next to him, and the reality of the situation rushed back into Jiang Wanyin’s mind.

“Idiot! What did you do this time?” Jiang Wanyin reached over to shake his brother awake, but before he could, his arm was caught by Lan Wangji, who had apparently struggled to a sitting position on the other side of Wei Wuxian and was now glaring at him.

Well, at least Jiang Wanyin assumed he was glaring, based on the situation. He still found it borderline impossible to read the man most of the time.

“Fine, do it your way!”, he scoffed, getting the rest of the way up and instead busying himself with looking around as soon as the venerable Hanguang-Jun let go of him to bend over his husband instead. Something wasn’t right here…

His thoughts trailed off when he heard wet kissing sounds behind him. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on there (nor was he going to look), but whatever it was, it was surely completely shameless and nothing he wanted to witness. There was a satisfied smile in Wei Wuxian’s voice when he spoke up next.

“Why, A-Zhan, what a nice way to wake up, maybe we could… wait, what happened?”

“Your experiment blew up in our faces, that’s happened!” Jiang Wanyin turned around, gambling that it would be safe by now. Wei Wuxian was sitting up, Lan Wangji’s arm around him, but at least they’d ceased doing… whatever they’d been doing. He didn’t even want to know.

Wei Wuxian rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish smile. “Eh, I didn’t know it would do that…”

Jiang Wanyin rolled his eyes. “Obviously. I don’t think…” He was about to add more (peppered with a number of choice curse words) when he suddenly registered what had seemed so off earlier.

“The talismans!”

“You don’t think the talismans what?”

Wei Wuxian was looking at him, clearly confused. Both other men had now struggled to their feet, leaving the three of them standing in the surprisingly tidy room.

The surprisingly tidy room that had, if Jiang Wanyin’s memory hadn’t been irreparably addled by his brief bout of apparent unconsciousness, contained a raging whirlwind only moments earlier.

“The parchment, the chalk marks, they’re all gone! Nothing even seems out of place. Don’t you think that’s odd?” Jiang Wanyin felt the overwhelming urge to throttle someone – anyone – but suppressed it with the long practice of someone who’d managed survive both countless Discussion Conferences and the temper tantrums of a three-year-old without actually committing murder.

(Really, Jin Guangshan’s self-congratulatory and hypocritical speeches at the beginning and the end of every Jin Discussion Conference alone had by themselves always been enough to try anyone’s patience, nevermind what happened in between. It was a wonder that man had managed to survive as long as he had.)

The other two men looked around.

“Mn”, Lan Wangji commented. Wei Wuxian merely nodded as if he understood what the other had intended to express.

(Jiang Wanyin hadn’t completely ruled out yet that his brother had invented some form of secret telepathy talisman. Given past events, he was certainly capable of it.)

“Yes, that’s true – all my things are gone.”

(Jiang Wanyin rolled his eyes - scratch that, clearly his brother was an idiot. He would never understand how somebody so smart could be so dumb at the same time.)

“Yes, that’s what I just said! Weren’t you listening?”

Wei Wuxian looked at him, an unusually serious look in his eyes.

“No, I didn’t mean that. I meant - all my things are gone. My desk, my clothes, my everything!”

As he spoke, he started moving around the place, opening up chests and pushing aside screens as if the missing items would miraculously reappear.

Jiang Wanyin watched this go on for a minute or so until it became increasingly obvious that, alas, no miracles would occur.

“So, what’s going on?”

Wei Wuxian shook his head.

“I don’t know yet. I’d check with the scroll again, but – well, it’s gone too…”

Jiang Wanyin snorted angrily. “Well, that’s just great. Now if you’ll excuse me, this was fun and all, but I have a nephew to check up on.”

A-Ling probably wouldn’t be thrilled to see him again so soon after he’d just handed him off to his friends, but too bad – he’d just have to deal with it. After all, it was his avuncular prerogative to check up on his nephew whenever he wanted.

(Besides, it always made him happy to see A-Ling. Not that he needed a reason, the boy got into trouble often enough that a little additional supervision was definitely warranted. Besides, he didn’t trust that Jingyi kid as far as he could throw him.)

(To be fair, he was an extremely powerful cultivator and would probably be able to throw the kid pretty far if he ever tried. Still, the point stood.)

He got about three steps from the jingshi when he stopped, took a proper look around, and turned back.

“Umm, was that tree there when I came through earlier?”

His brother and brother-in-law, who had stopped on the stoop of the jingshi, set their gazes on the giant chinquapin tree he was pointing at.

(It definitely hadn’t been there earlier, had it? Jiang Wanyin knew he was getting old, but he wasn’t getting that old.)

Wei Wuxian had always had a very expressive face (even if you couldn’t always trust his expressions), but Jiang Wanyin didn’t think he’d ever seen Lan Wangji actually visibly pale in front of him.

That wasn’t good.

A small seed of worry sprang into existence deep in his belly.

“What?”, he asked, finding he had to wet his lips to do it.

“Burned…” Lan Wangji whispered, looking visibly disconcerted.

Resisting his attempts to immediately smother it under a blanket of anger, the seed of worry in Jiang Wanyin’s belly began to sprout.

It was the third week of Wei Ying’s month-long punishment and Jiang Cheng was waiting outside of the library pavilion, well and truly bored.

He’d done all of his lesson preparation and revision work for the week. He’d spent hours out on the training fields, going through both his Jiang forms to make sure he didn’t grow rusty, and practising the new forms they’d been taught during the lectures. He’d done meditation exercises to strengthen his golden core.

On a particularly bad afternoon, he’d even deigned to let Nie Huaisang give him an impromptu introductory lecture on fan painting that had gone on for so long that Jiang Cheng had started to fantasize about breaking his friend’s own fan over his head in order to get him to shut up.

(The takeaway of that episode had been that, while Nie Huaisang was a great friend and certainly fun to hang out with a majority of the time, some of his hobbies definitely weren’t for Jiang Cheng.)

Two days ago, he’d even grown desperate enough to consider asking the peacock to hang out. (Thankfully, that fit of insanity had passed before any plans could come to fruition. Just thinking of it still gave Jiang Cheng goosebumps.)

All that, and Wei Ying was still shut up in the library pavilion all day every day after lessons with that boring stick-in-the-mud Lan Wangji instead of out here, doing stuff with Jiang Cheng.

Kicking a rock in frustration, he watched it skip along on the puddles left by the recent rains (ha, five skips! Bet even Wei Ying couldn’t match that…) before remembering himself and quickly looking around, making sure nobody had seen him and letting out a breath of relief when he realised he was the only one on this side of the yard.

(After all, there was bound to be a rule against skipping rocks, and Jiang Cheng very much preferred to be bored while outside of the library pavilion due to his own free will rather than while inside of it due to being punished. That, he left to Wei Ying.)

Suddenly, the door to the library drew open and his brother emerged, followed on the foot by Lan Wangji.

Well, one couldn’t have everything, Jiang Cheng supposed.

“There you are! Just how many scrolls does he have you copy every day?”

Wei Ying merely grinned and folded his hands above his heart.

“A-Cheng! Were you waiting for me? That’s so sweet!”

Jiang Cheng scoffed but didn’t have any immediate rejoinder he cared for Lan Wangji to hear.

“Stop that. Anyway, are you coming with me? I was going to visit A-Jie before dinner hour.”

Wei Ying’s smile grew more natural. Jiang Cheng couldn’t even begrudge him that – their sister was the best, after all.

“Sure! Race you there? Last one has to tidy up our room for a week!”

“It’s on!”

“Mn.”

A sound from behind Wei Ying stopped them in their tracks.

Of course. They’d forgotten about the stick-in-the-mud.

“Running is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes while Wei Ying turned around to his part-time minder.

“But Lan Wangji, it’s almost time for dinner, there’s no time!”

“Running is forbidden. Will accompany you.”

Ugh, that was all they needed when they went to visit A-Jie – a watchdog to make sure they didn’t step out of line.

Still, he supposed it couldn’t be helped now (at least, not if they didn’t want to make a scene rather than visit their sister), so together, the three boys set out for the section of the Cloud Recesses set aside for visiting female disciples.

About halfway to their destination, they turned into one of the lesser-used paths and found themselves walking behind three adult cultivators.

That in itself would have been quite uneventful, if not for the fact that one of them was very clearly dressed in Yunmeng Jiang purple.

Now that – that was odd.

After all, all the Jiang disciples at the Cloud Recesses with them would currently be wearing the white robes that were required for visiting disciples, distinguished from the other visiting disciples only by the lotus patches sewn onto the fabric.

Jiang Cheng exchanged a look with his brother and was about to call out when he noticed something even more bewildering.

The man in purple was wearing the Jiang Sect leader’s headpiece.

That could only mean one thing…

“Father?”

Jiang Wanyin was not sure why Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had decided to both lose their minds at exactly the same time, but he resented it.

Of course, if he looked at the situation more charitably, it might just have been the case that the explosion earlier had scrambled their brains to a much greater degree than he’d at first assumed. There was only one problem with that - after what had happened in the jingshi, he was in absolutely no mood to be charitable.

No, he was out for blood (or at least some answers).

“That is preposterous! How would that even work? Have you completely…”

“Just think about it! All signs that I ever lived in the jingshi are gone. There’s trees up and flourishing that burned to crisps when the Wen invaded. And it’s certainly spectacular, just like the scroll promised!”

Wei Wuxian almost looked as if he thought this ridiculous idea of his was exciting.

(For a moment, Jiang Wanyin had to remind himself that no, punching his brother was definitely not a good idea, nor befitting of a Sect leader.)

What was almost worse – his brother’s usually sensible husband (yes, Jiang Wanyin didn’t particularly like him, but even he had to at admit that Hanguang-Jun was an excellent cultivator) seemed to agree! Or at least he hadn’t said or done anything to indicate the opposite, which, in this case, he really should have.

(Truth be told, Jiang Wanyin could have dealt with the silence – nothing new there –, but the slightly wide-eyed look, identifiable even to him, that Lan Wangji was giving seemingly every other larger shrub or tree, and a couple of buildings as well, was starting to… make him angry. That was it, it made him angry. It definitely wasn’t starting to freak him out, perish the thought.)

Still, Jiang Wanyin opted to ignore this unusual behaviour and instead sent an incredulous look Wei Wuxian’s way.

“Oh, so that’s what’s going on here! Wait, were you expecting something like this? Wei Wuxian, so help me, if this is a prank…”

He didn’t know how or why Wei Wuxian would do something like this to him, but…

Then, before he could really get going, something unexpected happened.

“Father?”

Jiang Wanyin blinked at the call from behind him. Why did it feel as if the speaker was directing his words at them?

Next to him, Wei Wuxian stiffened at the sound, his mouth forming a perfect ‘o’. His eyes flickered to Jiang Wanyin before he slowly turned around.

“Oh. Oh, wow…” All the air seemed to escape his brother’s lungs as if he’d been punched.

Jiang Wanyin wasn’t sure he wanted to turn around and see what his brother was seeing, especially not after Lan Wangji followed suit and adopted a rather similar expression as a result (minus the verbalising, of course, but that was to be expected).

(Seriously, Jiang Wanyin hadn’t seen Lan Wangji with such a surprised expression on his face since the time Lan Jingyi had accidentally-on-purpose dropped a red hot chili pepper into Lan Wangji’s vegetable stew at the Cloud Recesses Discussion Conference when A-Ling had been eight.

At least, he had to grudgingly admit, his nephew had excellent taste in friends).

However, Jiang Wanyin wasn’t a coward – at least that’s what he liked to think – so, after gathering his courage, he turned around as well.

After setting eyes on the three figures behind them on the path, he knew this hadn’t been one of his better decisions. (And he’d made a ton of bad decisions in his life – for example, agreeing to participate in Wei Wuxian’s hairbrained experiment. He was definitely starting to regret that.)

Still, it never hurt to be sure.

Maybe he’d just hit his head a lot harder than he’d originally thought and scrambled his brains for good. Or the congee at lunch had horribly disagreed with him in a so far undiscovered manner and this was all some sort of demented fever dream. Or… anything really, except for what his eyes were telling him.

“Are you seeing what I am seeing?”

Next to him, Wei Wuxian swallowed as if his mouth had suddenly gone try. Jiang Wanyin could sympathise. “That depends. What exactly are you seeing?”

On the other side of Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji was characteristically silent while looking uncharacteristically freaked out.

And across from them, there was – well, them. Again.

Jiang Wanyin supposed he must have been that young once. He knew he had been, even if there was an ocean of war and heartbreak lying between then and now.

But he couldn’t really remember it, not in his bones, not in the dark places in his mind where it felt like he’d always been a Sect Leader and a war veteran.

These boys across from them? They barely looked any older than Jin Ling. No older than Wei Wuxian’s and Lan Wangji’s Lan Sizhui.

(Jiang Wanyin felt the sudden urge to check up on A-Ling immediately. There was a sudden fear growing in his mind that he wouldn’t find him when he looked, and as soon as that terrifying thought crystalised, he shoved it as far out of his mind as it would go.)

At least the teenagers facing them had the grace to look just as blindsided as their adult counterparts, even if Jiang Wanyin could see Wei Ying’s eyes darting over all of them, probably already calculating and discarding possibilities in his freakishly intelligent brain.

Lan Zhan’s eyes, on the other hand, were flickering between Wei Wuxian the adult and Wei Ying the teenager, a faint rose colour appearing on the top of his ears. Even from several feet away, Jiang Wanyin could see the younger man’s breath hitch.

He just barely managed to refrain from rolling his eyes before realising that he had absolutely no reason not to and doing it anyway.

On the other side of Wei Ying, Jiang Cheng was also growing red in the face, albeit for entirely different reasons.

“Hey! You’re not my father! Why are you wearing his headpiece?”

Jiang Wanyin did a double take at the accusation and then proceeded to ignore the younger man’s outstretched arm entirely in favour of turning to Wei Wuxian.

“See? Look what you’ve done now!” He gestured at the teenagers with both hands to better emphasize his point.

As usual, Wei Wuxian ignored him entirely, apparently having gotten over the first shock. Instead, a big, delighted grin was settling on his brother’s features.

“Aww, look at us, we’re so tiny! Aren’t we cute?”

(Scratch inviting Wei Wuxian back home to keep the disciples happy – at this rate, he was going to do it for no other reason than to drown him in the lake!)

Before Jiang Wanyin could even curse in reply, Lan Wangji chimed in with his own, still slightly out-of-sorts “Mn”. Immediately, Wei Wuxian turned towards him as if he’d just made a meaningful contribution to the discussion.

(“Cute? Who are you calling cute?”, Jiang Wanyin’s younger counterpart screeched in the background, and there was no way he’d ever been that obnoxious.)

“Yes, you’re right, but really, aren’t they just?”

One of these days Jiang Wanyin was going to figure out the secret to communicating with Lan Wangji, but it wouldn’t be today. Instead, he settled for rolling his eyes – again – and adopted an impressive scowl.

“I strongly believe you are focussing on the wrong part of this situation!”

“Um, excuse me, but who exactly are you?”

Wei Ying’s voice – really, Wei Wuxian’s voice, there honestly was surprisingly little difference – had them all whipping around to face the teenagers again.

His adult counterpart rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Uh, that’s kind of hard to explain…”

Jiang Wanyin shot Wei Wuxian an incredulous look. If his brother was going to start telling them the truth…

(Nevermind that Jiang Wanyin wasn’t even really convinced yet that this wasn’t actually some kind of coma-induced nightmare.

Please, let it be a coma-induced nightmare.)

Quickly, before his brother could put his foot further in his mouth, he cut him off.

“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about. Now, be on your way before we have you punished for… for bothering your elders without being spoken to first.” Surely, there had to be some kind of rule about that? There were rules about when to polish your boots, for fuck’s sake!

He really didn’t appreciate the flat, unimpressed looks both Wei Wuxians shot him in response, completely ignoring the impressive glare he’d accompanied his words with. Figured. That had never worked on his wayward brother.

(He had an inkling that having two copies of Wei Wuxian around was going to get old quickly. For him, at least, he mentally added after a quick glance to the side – the younger Lan Wangji seemed way more appreciative, and the colour in his ears was starting to spread to his face as his eyes continued to go back and forth.

It was at this point that Jiang Wanyin quickly terminated this train of thought out of self-preservation.)

Wei Ying opened his mouth to respond, but Jiang Cheng, whose face by now was a truly impressive shade of red as well, beat him to the punch.

“None of that explains why you’re wearing my father’s headpiece!”

Instead of answering properly, Wei Wuxian merely turned to Jiang Wanyin, a fond look on his face that the other man didn’t at all appreciate: “Did you see that? He even does that weird eyebrow thing you do too when you’re angry!”

(That was it. Jiang Wanyin was definitely going to drown him in the lake. And feed him to the shui gui afterwards, for good measure.

Now he just had to figure out a way to distract Hanguang-Jun long enough…)

“Really, you want to go there now? What about your stupid gaping fish mouth, or the way the other Lan Wangji keeps ogling you!”

“Ha, you’re just jealous because even at that age, Lan Wangji was already the most handsome of all of us.”

Over his brother’s shoulder, Jiang Wanyin could see Lan Wangji blush almost as furiously as his younger counterpart. He heard gagging noises, and it took him a moment to realise they weren’t coming from him but the younger Jiang Cheng.

That option already being taken, Jiang Wanyin settled for rolling his eyes again instead.

(Really, at this rate, he was going to develop eye strain. Which would be just another thing that was completely Wei Wuxian’s fault.)

“Great. If you want to give your future husband qi deviation, you just continue on like that…”

Before the sentence was even fully out of his mouth, Jiang Wanyin was already cursing himself.

All three boy’s eyes grew as big as saucers.

(Next to Jiang Wanyin, Wei Wuxian had to privately admit to himself that Lan Zhan’s complexion was starting to resemble an – albeit rather attractive – chili pepper.

Then again, he’d always been rather fond of chili peppers.)

“What?” Wei Ying looked more confused than ever as he looked over to Lan Zhan and then back at the adults again.

“What are you talking about?”

Jiang Wanyin scoffed.

“Ergh, I’d forgotten how impossibly dense you were about this!”, he informed his brother.

“Mn!”, Lan Wangji objected from his brother’s other side, which Jiang Wanyin ignored completely.

Wei Wuxian, on the other hand, turned to his husband.

“Ah, nevermind him, A-Zhan, you know Jiang Cheng and I like to joke around!”

He reached out with his hand, caressing his husband’s face and brushing his thumb over the Lan forehead ribbon.

THUNK!

At the sudden sound, the three grown men turned around, only to see Lan Zhan lying in the middle of the muddy path, out cold, his pristine white robes puddling around him.

Well, formerly pristine white, considering the mud. Jiang Wanyin winced – he remembered all too well what a pain in the neck those robes were to keep clean. (True to form, he and his brother had tried to pawn the task of washing them off on their sister once upon a time, but even mild-mannered, downright saintly Jiang Yanli had thrown in the towel (or rather, the robes) after a week and informed them that they would have to do their own laundry from then on if they didn’t want to run afoul of whatever rule governed the keeping sparkly clean of one’s robes. Surely, there had to be at least one.)

“Lan Wangji!” Wei Ying knelt down to grasp the fallen teen’s shoulder while Jiang Cheng bent over them both, looking a lot less concerned than his brother.

Jiang Wanyin felt Wei Wuxian surge forward next to him as well, held back only by Lan Wangji’s arm on his elbow.

“Suggest retreat”, the conscious Lan stated calmly, as always treating every word as if he’d have to pay a silver coin to use it. Jiang Wanyin, for once, couldn’t help but agree with him – this had gone on for long enough as it was, whatever “this” was.

“Then let’s go.”

He turned around and stormed off before remembering he had no idea where to storm to – a return the jingshi seemed ill-advised considering their current circumstances.

“Where to?”, he bit out, hoping nobody had noticed his gaffe.

His brother’s snort informed him that he’d hoped in vain, but at least he kept the rest of his mirth to himself, merely turning to Lan Wangji for guidance.

“A-Zhan?”

Lan Wangji seemed to think for a moment, then nodded decisively and led his two compatriots away from the scene at high speed.

(High walking speed, that is, but it was still impressive. Jiang Wanyin found himself wondering if Lan disciples received any particular training in that regard.)

Hearing that term of address for the second time, Jiang Cheng looked up from where he’d been poking at Lan Zhan’s arm and blinked in consternation while Wei Ying cradled the other boy’s head in his lap.

He was met with the sight of the retreating backs of the three strangers who had appeared before them so suddenly, spouting utter nonsense and clearly trying to fool other people into thinking they were, well, his brother, Lan Wangji and… himself?

(Really, he was offended to think anybody might ever mistake that man for him – how obnoxious did they think he was! Plus, wasn’t that guy clearly too old?)

Finally, the fact that the men were getting away registered, and Jiang Cheng dropped Lan Zhan’s arm back to the muddy ground with a wet “plop!” before jumping up.

“Hey! Where the fuck do you think you’re going!”, he shouted after them, violating at least three Lan Sect rules all at once and tripping over Lan Zhan’s robes, which had somehow gotten tangled around his ankles, as he tried to follow.

(In another part of the Cloud Recesses, Lan Qiren, blissfully unaware of the drama that was playing itself out on his home turf, winced as a cold flash ran down his spine. He took another sip of his soothing herbal tea to combat the chill. Autumn was arriving early this year, it seemed.)

By the time Jiang Cheng had untangled himself and Wei Ying had – much more gently than his brother – laid Lan Zhan’s head back down, the three men had already disappeared around a bend in the road.

Chapter Text

“Oh come on, Jiang Cheng, you have to admit that it is at least a bit funny!”

Jiang Wanyin, in fact, did absolutely not have to admit anything of the sort, and he stopped for a moment to send an angry glare at Wei Wuxian before continuing to pace around the abandoned hut Hanguang-Jun had led them to. High up on the mountain and wreathed in the eternal fog that surrounded the upper part of the Cloud Recesses, it belonged to a set of pools that had gone out of fashion for bathing two generations ago, apparently due to being “not cold enough”.

Figured. Only a Lan could complain that they weren’t being turned into an icicle.

Then again, considering how far they’d had to climb up the mountain to get here, it was entirely possible they’d been just looking for an excuse to not have to make the trip.

Either way, it meant that, for now at least, they had a place to rest – definitely not hide, Jiang Wanyin did not hide! – until they had sorted this whole thing out.

“This whole thing” being the fact that, somehow, his brother had managed to land them in the past, as incredible as it seemed. As much as he didn’t want to believe it, there was really no denying it now, after the encounter they’d just had.

Really, sometimes – quite often, actually – he fervently wished his brother had taken the Jiang Sect motto to “attempt the impossible” less to heart.

If you asked Jiang Wanyin, he’d attempted – and succeeded! – in the impossible quite often enough already.

Damn overachiever.

Especially considering he wasn’t even officially part of the Jiang Sect anymore. Before one of his experiments had landed them in the past, what the fuck Wei Ying, he’d actually started to think about rectifying that.

Not that he’d informed Wei Wuxian of this.

“Funny? He called me ‘father’!”

“Yes, exactly!”

Wei Wuxian had the nerve to giggle, and the only thing keeping Jiang Wanyin from throttling his brother where he stood was the rising suspicion that, just as he had been instrumental in getting them into this mess, he would probably be their best bet of getting them out of it as well.

“If you don’t stop laughing, I’m going to break your legs!”

Legs weren’t needed for writing talismans, after all.

Jiang Wanyin blinked as a white wall suddenly appeared between him and his brother. Lan Wangji didn’t need to speak for Jiang Wanyin to know that the impassive expression aimed at him translated into an impressive glower for anybody else.

He glowered back, just on principle.

Behind the wall, the giggling continued.

“And their expressions! I didn’t even know I could make a face like that!”

“That’s what you get for not listening to me - I’ve been telling you about your stupid face for years!”

For a moment, he thought the wall had grunted, but when he looked, Hanguang-Jun’s face was as unreadable as ever. When the other man wouldn’t budge Jiang Wanyin resumed his pacing.

“This is a catastrophe! I can’t just go galivanting off to who-knows-where like certain other people, I have a Sect to lead! And who is going to make sure Jin Ling doesn’t get himself hurt on a night hunt? Or worse – involved in one of the intrigues in that snake pit they call Koi Tower!”

He shuddered as he recalled the time A-Ling, all of seven years old, had told one of the servants there he didn’t like Dandan noodles. It had taken Jiang Wanyin several hours to figure out that the reason his Jin attendants kept trying to shepherd his nephew off to the dungeons was some unfortunate lower-ranked palace guard nicknamed Dandan (for whatever reason – Jiang Wanyin hadn’t asked) who’d unwittingly secured himself an uncomfortable couple of days in a cell courtesy of a court member trying to gain his future Sect Leader’s favour.

By the time Jin Guangyao had returned from his visit to the Unclean Realm to sort the whole mess out, A-Ling had been in tears and Jiang Wanyin’s throat had been hoarse from shouting. (That man had always had a way with words and a deft hand for dealing with the underhanded schemes of Koi Tower. Looking back, maybe they should have realised something was wrong there sooner.)

“Oh, come on, the world isn’t going to end because you’re not at Lotus Pier to scowl at the disciples for a couple of days. Think of it as a vacation!”

“I don’t take vacations! And how do you know it’s only a couple of days? You don’t even know why we’re here in the first place!”

“Mn”, Lan Wangji interjected, telling Jiang Wanyin exactly nothing.

Wei Wuxian pulled a face. “I know. But it’s not all bad, is it?”

Jiang Wanyin halted his pacing, indignant. “Oh, so him you’re going to listen to?”

“Always.” The sickeningly sweet smile directed at his husband that accompanied that declaration was enough to make Jiang Wanyin want to gouge out his own eyeballs with Sandu.

“Well, you better listen to me too, because I’m telling you, somewhere not too far from here, there’s three snotty nosed versions of us running around probably telling everybody they come across they’ve seen three strange men pretending to be the Jiang Sect Leader, a Lan and an idiot with a big mouth…”

“Hey!“, Wei Wuxian protested, but Jiang Wanyin ruthlessly ignored him.

“…and soon they’re going to come looking for us, and if we’re really unlucky, they might even contact the current Jiang Sect Leader, and then father…”

Jiang Wanyin faltered as a thought hit him with the speed of a stampeding horse.

“…father…”

“Jiang Cheng, are you alright?”

“…he…”

“A-Cheng, what’s wrong?”

Jiang Wanyin blinked and suddenly found he was sitting on the floor of the abandoned hut they’d retreated to, looking up at the worried face of his brother, and when had that happened?

“Father, he’s… all of them… they’re alive!”

In hindsight, Jiang Wanyin had to admit it had taken them an embarrassingly long time to grasp the implications of actually being in the past.

He looked over to the other side of the hut, where Wei Wuxian was walking up and down, running his hands through his hair and leaving his ponytail badly askew.

“Just think, A-Zhan, Jiang Cheng – we can prevent the war! We can save Lotus Pier and the Cloud recesses! We can – “, he stopped abruptly, giving Lan Wangji the opportunity to dart in and attempt to fix his hair tie for him, “We know all the best-looking young masters’ rankings for years to come, we’ll win all the betting pools! Obviously after we’ve done all the rest…”

Jiang Wanyin couldn’t even find it in himself to criticise his brother’s warped sense of priorities; he was far too busy trying not to grin like a fool at the thought of the opportunities that had suddenly opened up for them (he had a reputation to uphold, after all!).

Besides, he would have been lying if he’d claimed he hadn’t had similarly frivolous thoughts in the last couple of minutes. As if on cue, his mind strayed to the forbidden closet in his father’s office that had burnt down before he’d ever had the chance to explore its contents.

“Can save Wei Ying”, Lan Wangji suddenly declared with obvious feeling, making Wei Wuxian’s eyes go soft. Jiang Wanyin would have commented on the disgusting sentimentality of the scene if he hadn’t been preoccupied with erasing all traces that he felt similarly mushy from his face.

Wei Wuxian turned to Lan Wangji. “You can save me whenever you want. As thoroughly as you want…” he declared impishly, practically clamping his mouth on top of his husband’s, and ugh, no, forget not commenting, Jiang Wanyin hadn’t signed up for that.

“Hey, I thought we were having a moment here, there’s no need to ruin it with your utter shamelessness!”

Wei Wuxian pulled his head back from where he’d been apparently trying to devour Hanguang-Jun and laughed more freely than Jiang Wanyin had heard him laugh in a long time. “Did you hear that, A-Zhan? The great Sandu Shengshou thinks we’re having a moment…”

“Mn”, agreed Lan Wangji, clearly not caring a whit what the great Sandu Shengshou thought.

Jiang Wanyin rolled his eyes but couldn’t find it in himself at the moment to push the argument further. “Idiot”, he grumbled at his brother instead, though even he could tell it was half hearted.

Wei Wuxian smiled even more widely, though he thankfully he didn’t immediately continue to defile his husband where Jiang Wanyin could see (presumably to said husband’s disappointment). “We’ll get to have Shi-Jie’s soup again! The real thing!”

That was right – A-Jie was right here in the Cloud Recesses, wasn’t she? They could go see her any time, in fact, they could go see her right now if they wanted to and…

A cold hand suddenly gripped his stomach and twisted it. The feeling was not unsimilar to the time he and Nie Huaisang had taken a break together during a Cloud Recesses Discussion Conference to spend the afternoon in Caiyi Town and had made the ill-advised decision to buy some fish skewers from an in hindsight suspiciously shady-looking stall right at the waterfront.

When he looked back up, something must have shown on his face, because his brother let go of the collar of Lan Wangji’s robes (had those two been at it again while he’d been distracted?) and took a step towards him.

“Jiang Cheng?”

“A-Ling!”, Jiang Wanyin blurted out before the other could say anything else.

Whatever had gripped his stomach previously had now sunk like a stone to the bottom of it. He had to correct himself – this was worse than that time with Nie Huaisang, because he had the sinking feeling that this time, he couldn’t just meditate the problem away.

His brother smiled. “That’s right, Shi-Jie will get to watch him grow up this time! Oh, I wonder if growing up with the peacock will make him even more arrogant…”

Jiang Wanyin surged forward, all else forgotten at the sign of this blatant disregard towards nephew.

“Say anything like that about Jin Ling again and I’ll break your legs!”

“Please, as if you can catch me.” Faster than Jiang Wanyin could grab him, Wei Wuxian danced out of the way and behind Lan Wangji. Jiang Wanyin tried to follow but was once again blocked by the white wall.

“Not all of us are cowards who like to hide behind our husbands – some of us prefer to keep our dignity!”, Jiang Wanyin called over said husband’s shoulder, trying to surreptitiously check for openings.

His brother glomped onto Lan Wangji from behind, making the other man almost stumble forward, though he didn’t seem to mind.

Not that Jiang Wanyin would have been able to tell from his expression.

“I’m perfectly fine hiding behind Lan Zhan!”, his shameless brother replied, resting his head on the other man’s shoulder.

Jiang Wanyin rolled his eyes – clearly, there was nothing to gain here.

“So, A-Ling?” Wei Wuxian reminded him and Jiang Wanyin’s expression turned sour once again. Well, even more sour. He swallowed, trying to get the words out.

“It’s… he isn’t even born yet. If we change things, he might never be.”

Truth be told, Jiang Wanyin couldn’t imagine a world without his bright, perfect nephew anymore (not that he’d ever admit anything of the sort to A-Ling himself – it would go right to the boy’s head!). But then again, once upon a time, he wouldn’t have been able to imagine a world without his A-Jie, without his parents, without the shidis and shimeis he’d grown up with either…

“A-Yuan”, Lan Wangji said, his eyes meeting Jiang Wanyin in a moment of understanding.

Wei Wuxian let go of his husband and came out from behind him, mouth twisting unhappily. “We can’t just do nothing!”

“I know!” Jiang Wanyin kicked at a decrepit-looking chair that had been left to rot in a corner of the hut, splintering the worm-eaten wood into pieces.

He just barely managed to catch his balance before his momentum could cause him to careen into the wall.

Now that, that would have been truly undignified.

(A distant part of his mind was surprised that there wasn’t a Lan Sect rule about letting a place deteriorate this much, even if it was abandoned. It seemed like there should be.)

Even more annoyed now, he turned to his brother, who was starting to resemble a scarecrow due to all the hair-tugging: “This is all your fault! None of this would be a problem if you’d been able to leave one stupid, half-burnt scroll the hell alone! But no, you had to –”

Lan Wangji suddenly spoke up.

“Not burnt yet.”

Jiang Wanyin, caught mid-rant, almost swallowed his own tongue in surprise at being interrupted by his brother-in-law. That had definitely never happened before.

Surely a sign that this was all wrong, if he had needed one.

Finally, he managed to find his voice again.

“What?”

Wei Wuxian, as usual drawing on the near-telepathic connection between them, let out a slow breath in realisation.

“Of course!”

Before Jiang Wanyin could demand any further explanation, his wayward brother turned to him. “The scroll was damaged during the burning of the Cloud Recesses. That hasn’t happened yet, though! Which means…”

“…that it’s still perfectly safe in the restricted section of the library pavilion”, Jiang Wanyin finished the thought. Then he blinked. “But how does that help us?”

“I don’t know! Maybe it has some advice? If anything, it might tell us how to get back!”

Well, Jiang Wanyin supposed that was at least something.

Regardless, he was still going to break his brother’s legs once this was done, just to make sure he knew never put them in such a situation again.

In the end, it turned out to be surprisingly easy to sneak through the Cloud Recesses to the library pavilion undetected. All they had to do was wait for the bells to ring the ninth hour, at which point the overwhelming majority of the Lan disciples had collectively taken to their beds and instantly dropped off to sleep.

It made the Sect Leader in Jiang Wanyin wonder how well this place was protected at night.

Ah well, that wasn’t his headache to deal with. He had enough of them as it stood.

Thankfully, when they’d left the future (and Jiang Wanyin was still wrapping his head around that), it had been early afternoon, so they had a couple of hours yet before Lan Wangji would presumably be struck with the same fate.

As expected, the pavilion was empty at this late hour, and they got in easily enough, closing the door behind them – no need for a lock this far into the heart of the Cloud Recesses, not in peacetime – and Wei Wuxian bounded over to a trapdoor hidden between a low table and the wall, Jiang Wanyin and Lan Wangji following at a much more sedate pace.

Jiang Wanyin had never been to the restricted section – for obvious reasons this was not a part of the Cloud Recesses generally included in the tours given to outside visitors – and he wondered how his brother knew where to find it, given that in their time, after the raid and burning of the library pavilion, the restricted section was unlikely to be in the same place.

Then again, he was probably better off not knowing some things. Especially when they pertained to his brother and, presumably, Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian looked around the darkened room, hands behind his back, while his husband fiddled with the lock (the restricted section definitely warranting one, peacetime or not).

“Ah, this brings back memories – remember how you used to wait for me outside, Jiang Cheng?”

Jiang Wanyin turned his attention from where he’d been listening for the sound of guards passing the building. Surely, their younger versions had told somebody about their encounter by now?

“I wouldn’t have had to wait if you hadn’t insisted on constantly making a nuisance of yourself.”

“Oh, A-Cheng, that’s just not fair, I – “

A soft clicking sound interrupted them, and they turned to see Lan Wangji slowly lift the trapdoor up and back.

“Oh, A-Zhan, well done! I’ve got such a talented husband…”

Jiang Wanyin pretended not to notice as Wei Wuxian rewarded his husband with a kiss and pushed his way past the lovebirds to carefully start descending the stairs, lighting his way with a lone candlestick he’d liberated from one of the tables upstairs.

It illuminated a fairly small room, just short of crowded once the other two deigned to join him, ringed around with shelves and cubbyholes filled to the brim with books and scrolls.

Jiang Wanyin shot a wary glance at his companions, but thankfully, they seemed to have halted any untoward activities. Still, he should probably lay down some ground rules.

“Please at least try to restrain yourself while we’re in here. If it helps, think of how the Lan elders would react if they found out this place had been dishonoured.”

His brother was just in the process of tightening up his ponytail, freshly messy. At this point, Jiang Wanyin wasn’t even sure why he bothered anymore.

“Oh, I did. It made the experience even better. Or it will? How does that work when one is a time traveller?”

Jiang Wanyin blinked and looked to Lan Wangji, whose face was as unreadable as ever but whose ears betrayed a not-so-faint red shimmer.

Great. He really should stop trying to be surprised by his brother’s shamelessness.

“That is information I really did not need. Or want”, he told the room at large.

He half expected his brother to volunteer more unsolicited information in response to that, just to be contrary, but Wei Wuxian was already preoccupied with the stacks, running his hand along the shelves and reading the titles.

Well, small favours and all that.

They worked quickly – Wei Wuxian having described to them beforehand exactly what they were looking for – but they still had only finished searching about a quarter of the room by the time Lan Wangji suddenly stilled.

“Visitor”, he said softly, and now Jiang Wanyin could hear it too – the sound of footsteps from the direction of the pavilion entrance and then the creak of the door starting to swing open.

Wei Wuxian reacted first, darting up the stairs and quickly pulling the trapdoor closed while the other two men extinguished their candles.

Then all three of them huddled at the top of the stairs, waiting to see if they had been discovered.

Really, it wasn’t too far off from the times Wei Wuxian had dragged him and Nie Huaisang along for one of his pranks, and a wave of nostalgia rolled through Jiang Wanyin. For a second, he had the wild thought that his father would come to the Cloud Recesses and punish him for sneaking into the restricted section if they were to be discovered, and he was so tempted to step out of their hiding place to make that a reality that he had to bite down on his own tongue to pull himself back to the present.

If he were going to see his father again, it would definitely be under more dignified circumstances than that.

Thankfully, whoever it was seemed to have noticed nothing amiss, and after a moment they relaxed, the collective breath they’d been holding hissing out into the darkness.

Jiang Wanyin wondered who it was that had business up there – weren’t they supposed to be in bed like a good little Lan?

His brother’s thoughts seemed to stray in a similar direction, for after they’d waited for a couple of moments more, he straightened slightly from his crouch and raised the trapdoor just enough so he could peek out.

“Wei Wuxian!” Couldn’t that man sit still for one minute?

His brother just shushed him.

Actually shushed him.

If looks could kill… well, Jiang Wanyin wouldn’t have killed Wei Wuxian – the noise of the body tumbling down the stairs would have surely alerted the upstairs visitor, for one – but oh, did he want to.

He felt something burning into him from the side, and oh, that was Lan Wangji glaring at him. There wasn’t much difference in his expression, but all the same, he could almost feel it blistering his skin.

Was he that obvious?

Jiang Wanyin glared back for good measure and then decided that he might as well take advantage of his brother’s stupidity.

He elbowed his way next to him and together, they watched a cultivator approach a shelf on the far side of the darkened room, give a furtive glance around as if he, too, were afraid of eyewitnesses, and finally reach around the shelf to pull out a previously hidden chest.

Next to Jiang Wanyin, Wei Wuxian let out a soft breath. “Huh. Figures.”

Jiang Wanyin let out an enquiring noise that was rewarded with a headshake. “Tell you later.”

The cultivator rooted around the chest for quite some time before pulling out a volume and stuffing the chest back into its hiding place before finally leaving the library.

By the time they were downstairs – trapdoor firmly closed this time – Jiang Wanyin was bursting with curiosity.

“So, what was that?”

Wei Wuxian, busy relighting the candles, looked up. “Oh. Secret section.”

Jiang Wanyin scoffed and across the room, even Lan Wangji straightened visibly.

“Bullshit. We are in the secret section.”

“Not that kind of secret. It’s the section with the kind of books that, well, Nie Huaisang would show us.”

“Oh.”

Huh. So it turned out not all Lan disciples were hopelessly stuffy. Maybe Hanguang-Jun was an outlier.

Wait, no, reverse that thought – considering what he got up to with his husband, he really, really wasn’t.

Apparently, the other Lan disciples were just better at hiding it.

Meanwhile, Lan Wangji had a comment on the situation as well.

“Mn”, he said, but in a way that left Jiang Wanyin wondering if he hadn’t known about the secret section (apparently not to be confused with the restricted section) of the library either.

Wei Wuxian, of course, turned to him as if he’d just made a valuable contribution to the conversation. “Oh, I think they just thought you wouldn’t like it. Besides, our own collection is way better – I’ve checked!”

Jiang Wanyin closed his eyes and groaned. “Again with the unnecessary information”, he complained.

“Oh please, I’m sure you’ve got a closet just like the one father kept in his office, too!”

Jiang Wanyin could feel the blood drain from his face. “What? No! What?”

His brother snorted. “What, you didn’t know? It was…”

“I’m not listening!” Jiang Wanyin interrupted, resisting the urge to stick his fingers into his ears like he’d done when they were little boys and Wei Wuxian – Wei Ying – had been particularly annoying.

A strangely warm feeling spread through Jiang Wanyin’s chest, and if he’d been honest with himself, he would have had to admit that he’d missed his brother’s irreverent banter.

As he wasn’t particularly in the habit of being honest with himself when it came to these things, he merely wondered what he’d eaten to give himself heartburn.

At least the mystery of what had been in that closet had finally, at long last, been laid to rest.

The Cloud Recesses library turned out to see quite a surprising amount of traffic during the night they spent holed up in the library pavilion’s basement.

It was almost enough to make Jiang Wanyin consider revising his opinion on the level of shamelessness Lan disciples generally indulged in swiftly upwards.

Then again, he’d been watching his brother’s and Lang Wangji’s behaviour for over a year now – he really had no excuse for not guessing before now that the Lan Sect’s stuffy exterior concealed unplumbed depths.

Even if he would have much preferred for those depths to remain unplumbed.

By the time the third visitor crept into the library pavilion, their muted footsteps softly tapping across the main room upstairs (really, the ceilings here were shockingly thin, no wonder the whole place had gone up in flames!), none of the three illicit investigators downstairs even bothered to put out their candles. They just made sure they were far enough into the stacks that no errant ray of light was likely to reach through any cracks in the trapdoor and kept right on searching for the scroll that would – hopefully – get them one step closer to fixing this mess.

Jiang Wanyin quietly rolled up the scroll he’d been scanning and put it back in its place - no need to start a war because the Lan Sect got it into their collective heads somebody had ransacked their library, after all.

They’d already have their hands full trying to stop the war they definitely knew was coming, they didn’t need another war on their hands.

Jiang Wanyin scowled, remembering the argument they’d almost had earlier. Stop the war, once they’d somehow made sure nothing was going to happen to endanger A-Ling, he amended internally.

However they were going to manage that.

A tearing sound startled him from his thoughts, and he looked down to find he’d clenched his fist around the scroll he’d taken out to look at next.

That… had not been his intention.

Quickly, he glanced around to make sure none of the others had noticed – he was already in a bad mood, no need to worsen it by being scolded on proper library etiquette by his brother-in-law – and, after checking the scroll was not what they were looking for, he rolled it back up, stuffing it into an open spot at the bottom of the shelf in a way he hoped would avoid notice for the foreseeable future.

Castigating himself for the slip, he picked up another scroll, his eyes scanning the opening lines.

Really, he should be paying better attention. They didn’t even know their next steps, there was no need to already start imagining what he was going to do to that dog Wen Chao this time around now that…

Wait.

Jiang Wanyin reread the beginning of the scroll, his heart starting to beat faster. This had to be it! After all, how many secret Lan Sect scrolls could there be with the word “spectacular” in the description?

(On second thought, it was no wonder Wei Wuxian had been drawn to it. Jiang Wanyin just regretted that he had to be present for the fallout.)

Scroll in hand, his eyes searched the room for the other two men. They were across the main area from him, their shoulders touching as if by accident as they worked on one of the larger shelves side-by-side.

Of course.

Rolling his eyes (even if the two others were too engrossed in their work to pay any attention to him, it was the principle of the thing!), he moved over to join them.

“Can’t you leave off each other for five minutes?”, he complained – quietly. “Here, I think this is it.”

Wei Wuxian looked up at him, his hand automatically grabbing for the scroll Jiang Wanyin was holding out to him.

“What? Oh, definitely not. I couldn’t deprive Wangji in that way…”

Jiang Wanyin would have happily pointed out that yes, if he truly wanted to, he could definitely spare them all his shamelessness, but his brother’s voice was already trailing off, too engrossed was he in his new reading material. Jiang Wanyin’s eyes wandered to Lan Wangji, possibly expecting one of the other cultivator’s habitual passive-aggressive non-glares when it came to his interactions with Wei Wuxian, but he was surprised to find that the man was mostly just blinking at his husband looking – sleepy?

Of course. They might be a bit behind the current time, but even so, it had to be way past the ninth bell where they came from by now.

Really, this bedtime thing was ridiculous. How did anybody ever get things done in the Cloud Recesses?

He was still pondering that mystery when Wei Wuxian nodded decisively.

“This is it! Now let’s get back to the hut so I can have a proper look at it…”

That decided, they filed back up the stairs. Wei Wuxian, who was in the lead, carefully raised the trapdoor – only to immediately slam it back down again.

Which, in turn, caused Lan Wangji, who was right behind him, to stop abruptly.

Which, in further turn, caused Jiang Wanyin (who, after all, unlike the other man did not have a near-telepathic connection to Wei Wuxian) to stumble into the Chief Cultivator’s back.

“What the…”, he started to protest as soon as he’d found his footing again, only to be brought up short by the finger Wei Wuxian was holding to his lips.

“There’s someone up there!” he whispered exaggeratedly, acting quickly to put out the candles they were still carrying.

The three men waited in silence, Jiang Wanyin rubbing his still sore nose and shooting angry glares into the darkness in the absence of a more vocal way to express his displeasure.

Thankfully, the commotion didn’t seem to have disturbed whoever was up there, and after a minute, Wei Wuxian raised the trapdoor again, just enough for the three men to look out and see the guest disciple – judging by their robes - sitting at the next table over, evidently getting some late night (early morning? They had been down here a while…) studying in.

Now that Jiang Wanyin thought about it, he had never heard the last visitor leave.

Looking more closely, he could see that the disciple’s shoulder patch identified him as a member of the Jin Sect, though Jiang Wanyin didn’t recognise them.

Figured. The only good thing to ever come out of that pit of vipers had been Jin Ling, and, arguably, Jin Ling’s father, the peacock.

Though admittedly, A-Ling made up for a whole lot.

The next thing Jiang Wanyin noticed was the even way the visitor’s shoulders rose and fell.

Too even.

“The fuck, he’s aslee -mph”, Jiang Wanyin finished around the hand Wei Wuxian had clamped onto his mouth.

“…and let’s keep it that way, hmm?”, his brother suggested softly.

Since he couldn’t deny that that was, in fact, a sound idea, Jiang Wanyin had to content himself to answering with a rude gesture that only seemed to amuse Wei Wuxian further.

Alas, tripping his annoying brother down the stairs still wasn’t an option, so he merely helped quietly lower the trapdoor back down and followed the others back to the main room of the restricted section.

There was no need for words to agree that leaving was off the table for now – there was no way they could hope to sneak out without serious risk of being discovered.

“Your library really needs better security”, Jiang Wanyin informed Lan Wangji as soon as they’d retreated to the far end of the room and relighted the candles.

Lan Wangji looked his usual constipated self – if a bit sleepier – but didn’t actually disagree, which Jiang Wanyin took as a win.

“Seeing as we’re stuck here for now, I’ll just get a head-start reading this, shall I?” Wei Wuxian suggested, pulling the scroll that had caused all this out from up his sleeve.

“Let’s just hope you find something”, Jiang Wanyin grumbled when he could find no reason to disagree, but Wei Wuxian was already settling down at one of the low tables and unfurling the scroll.

Jiang Wanyin, itching to do something, elected to install himself at the top of the stairs, periodically checking to see whether the disciple had vacated the premises yet.

His self-imposed duty had the added bonus of keeping him as far away from the other side of the room as possible, where Lan Wangji had proceeded to pillow his head on Wei Wuxian’s thigh as he worked and immediately dropped off to sleep, Wei Wuxian’s hand combing through his hair.

Shameless indeed.

Jiang Wanyin would have commented, but he was acutely aware of the need to not start a shouting match at precisely this time.

By the time the first tentative rays of sunlight started to creep into the library pavilion upstairs, threatening daybreak, the Jin Sect disciple was still snoring softly away and Jiang Wanyin was about ready to doze off himself.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been this bored – possibly, it had been at the last Discussion Conference headed by Jin Guangshan, where two of the minor Sects under Jin rule had seen fit to publicly air their dispute over a rice paddy for an entire day.

Jiang Wanyin was fairly certain that the time spent on that particular topic had had less to do with any interest in the border disputes of his subjects and everything to do with the fact that one of the minor Sects’ leaders had been a fairly attractive young woman. (As much as he was never going to forgive Jin Guangyao for hurting A-Ling, getting rid of that lecher had admittedly been one of his better deeds.)

The sound of Wei Wuxian cursing softly ripped Jiang Wanyin out of his thoughts. Quickly he checked on their visitor – still fast asleep – before leaving his post and sinking down cross-legged at the table opposite his brother, remembering at the last moment to keep his voice down.

“What is it?”

Wei Wuxian pulled an unhappy face but barely glanced up from the scroll.

Oh. Oh no. That didn’t bode well.

“Uh, A-Zhan should be awake for this, I think…”, he murmured and leaned down to wake his husband – thankfully not in a way that would make a Lan elder claw out his eyes.

Or, well, Jiang Wanyin.

By the time the three were properly convened around the table, Lan Wangji still looking a bit groggy, Jiang Wanyin was about ready to turn his brother upside down and shake him if that meant answers were going to fall out.

“What is it?”, he hissed again, probably louder than he should, earning himself a reprimanding glare (he guessed) from his brother-in-law which he summarily ignored.

Wei Wuxian took a moment to collect himself, rubbing the right side of his neck, a nervous tell he’d had since they’d been children.

Yes, he wasn’t going to like this.

“So, there’s good news and bad news. Which would you like to hear first?” Wei Wuxian was smiling, but Jiang Wanyin wasn’t fooled.

“Quit beating around the bush and just tell us!”, he ordered, remembering just in time to keep his voice down.

Wei Wuxian nodded. “Right, right. So, the good news is – I’m pretty sure I can get us back to where we came from! Or rather, when we came from.”

“…and the bad news?” Jiang Wanyin prompted when he didn’t immediately continue.

Really, this was starting to feel like getting four-year-old A-Ling to confess it was him who’d stolen the last piece of red bean cake from the pantry. Only that Wei Wuxian looked a lot less cute.

His brother grimaced. “…if we don’t go back within twelve days, we’ll die.”

Jiang Wanyin rocked back, feeling as if someone had just punched him in the stomach (an occurrence which, regrettably, had happened several times during life, meaning he had a firm basis of comparison). From the corner of his eye, he could see Lan Wangji looking equally shocked.

The part of Jiang Wanyin’s brain that wasn’t reeling from his brother’s revelation noted that he’d probably seen the usually stoic Lan express more emotion in the past twenty-or-so hours than in the entire time of their acquaintance before that.

If going to the past and possibly dying was what it took to accomplish that, Jiang Wanyin could have gladly done without.

“What do you mean, we’ll die?!” he flared up, completely ignoring the danger the visitor upstairs posed.

Before the others could react, the sound of a bell intruded on their conversation. Mere seconds later, they could hear cursing from upstairs, followed by the sounds of someone hastily putting away their research materials and leaving the building.

Once they were alone in the library pavilion, they stared at each other in silence for a beat.

“So… we should probably try to get out of here while everyone is still at breakfast?”

“This is the last time I’m helping you with any of your experiments.” Jiang Wanyin was going to stick to that too. If his brother happened to find himself in need of volunteers in the future, his husband would have to be enough.

Quickly, they erased all signs that they’d ever been in the library, Lan Wangji making sure to reset the lock just so, and managed to leave the library pavilion without further issue.

By the time they neared the edge of the main residential part of the Cloud Recesses without having come across a single human being, Jiang Wanyin was about ready to start thanking his lucky stars.

Which, of course, was the exact moment things went wrong.

Chapter Text

“I’m sure he’s still here! Jiujiu never leaves without telling me goodbye…”

“Yeah, but there’s no way he’s in the jingshi! Everybody knows all Hanguang-Jun and Wei-qianbei do there all night is…”

“Jingyi, you’re gossiping.”

“It’s not like they’re trying to hide it!”

“Are we sure he’s nowhere else?”

“It is strange – Hanguang-Jun and Wei-qianbei didn’t come to dinner either…”

“See, you’re worried too! Not that I am.”

“Really? Because you seemed pretty worried when you woke us up in the middle of the night!”

“Shut up!”

“Poor Sizhui’s still yawning…”

“I said, shut –

“We’re here.”

“…”

“What are you waiting for? Knock!”

“Us? This was your idea!”

“It’s your Sect, isn’t it?”

“Oh, for…”

“Zizhen, don’t…”

“They’re not answering.”

“Obviously!”

“That’s odd, Hanguang-Jun said nothing about leaving tonight when I talked to him earlier today.”

“Here, help me with the shutters…”

“Be careful, that was my finger!”

“Sorry about that.”

“Umm, does it always look like that?”

“…no, no it doesn’t.”

“What should we do?”

“I’m going to break down the door.”

“Really, Sizhui, I’m impressed – I didn’t believe you had it in you!”

“…we’re going to be copying the rules while doing handstands for months, aren’t we?”

“Meh, I don’t mind, I’ve got plenty of practice doing that.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“You’re missing the point, we can’t just…”

“Are you coming in now? It wasn’t locked after all.”

“Oh. That’s good, I guess.”

“Look at that mess! Even Wei-qianbei is usually tidier than this.”

“Umm, guys…”

“Who cares! What’s important is – jiujiu isn’t here either!”

“Guys, I think…”

“And Hanguang-Jun and Wei-qianbei are missing now too. We should go and inform Lan-laoxiansheng.”

“HEY! Everybody, look here! Should those markings be glowing?”

“What?”

“That can’t be good…”

“Jingyi, don’t touch them! What are you…”

Chapter Text

The red glaze of sunrise was only just fading from the Cloud Recesses. Taking its place, golden rays of early morning sunshine were starting to illuminate the mountainside, skipping along the surfaces of the cold-water pools and suffusing the ever-present billows of mist with a warm glow. Birds called to each other sweetly, ushering in the day.

If one had a poet’s heart, one might have even called the scene beautiful.

Jiang Cheng, alas, did not have a poet’s heart, and was therefore, tragically, unmoved by the spectacle.

He had, however, a teenager’s unwillingness to get out of bed a second earlier than he absolutely had to, as well as a temper unwilling to tolerate any slight done to him in silence, and thus it had only been under great protesting that he had heaved himself out of bed at the very first ringing of the bells and allowed his brother to drag him across the Cloud Recesses guest disciple compound.

“I really don’t understand why you’re so worried! They’re not going to let anything happen to their golden boy!” Jiang Cheng tried to scowl at his brother, but the effect was marred by the huge yawn that split his face.

Wei Wuxian didn’t even slow down. “I’m not worried, I just think it’s only proper that we should go and check up on him. We were all together when it happened, after all.”

“Yes, I remember! But I think etiquette would be served just fine if we at least waited until after breakfast.” Lan Wangji might not have woken up by the time they’d been shooed out of the infirmary by the attendants the previous evening, but even they had said that there was nothing to worry about.

Besides, Jiang Cheng was hungry. With all the commotion caused by the three intruders, they’d missed dinner.

“You’ll survive. Besides, they’ll probably want to ask us more questions before class begins.”

Jiang Cheng’s face grew thunderous at the reminder.

“The precious Second Jade better wake up soon and tell them we’re not making things up, or I will…” He didn’t know what he was going to do – as Sect Heir he had appearances to uphold, after all – but the fact that they hadn’t been believed about the three strange cultivators on their own merits rankled.

Apparently, Wei Wuxian’s reputation as a prankster was coming back to bite not only himself but also Jiang Cheng in their backsides. The only thing that kept him from making more of an issue of that was the fact that Wei Wuxian was clearly as upset about it as he was.

Before his brother could reply, someone shot past them – clearly faster than the Lan rules allowed, Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but register –, almost pushing them off the path.

“Who the fuck was that?”, Jiang Cheng bit out, checking that his white student disciple robes were still pristine after having had to rescue them from the grasping branches of a nearby bush.

“Looked like a Jin disciple. And I think his robes have been slept in?” Wei Wuxian sounded worryingly intrigued, which set the alarm bells in Jiang Cheng’s head to ringing. Wasn’t it enough for his brother that he’d already managed to build up a reputation on his own? Was he looking for inspiration now?

“Don’t you dare!” Better to nip this in the bud right now. They had enough to worry about, with those three madmen on the loose.

“What? I wasn’t even doing anything!”

“Sure you weren’t…” Jiang Cheng gave his brother a glare for good measure, just to drive the point home.

Wei Wuxian looked back guilelessly, pretending he didn’t know exactly what Jiang Cheng was talking about. “Umm… so, infirmary?”

Jiang Cheng sniffed imperiously to hide how silly he suddenly felt. “Sure. Let’s go.”

They made it all the way to the Jin part of the guest disciple compound before their early-morning trek was interrupted again, this time by the sound of raised voices.

Jiang Cheng wondered if the Jin Sect had some kind of competition going today, to see who would be caught breaking the Lan Sect rules the earliest. Why was everybody so eager to be up and about at the crack of dawn anyway? The sun wasn’t even fully up yet!

Then he noticed that one of those voices sounded familiar.

“Isn’t that the golden peacock?”

Wei Wuxian stopped and listened for a moment.

“Huh, I think so. I wonder what that’s about?”

“Fuck if I know. Maybe that reckless idiot from earlier bowled somebody else over?”

They shared a look before promptly hurrying on – if that “somebody else” was the golden peacock, Jiang Cheng for one definitely wanted to see the fallout.

As a matter of fact, the commotion they’d heard turned out to have nothing to do with the hasty Jin disciple from earlier. Still, nothing could have prepared them for the scene that confronted them when they rounded the next corner.

The golden peacock was there, all right, in all his golden peacock glory, arrogant expression and all. That wasn’t unusual.

What was unusual, however, was that he was there twice.

Jiang Cheng surreptitiously rubbed his eyes, just to make sure they weren’t still stuck together from lack of sleep, but nothing changed.

There, on one side of the path, was Jin Zixuan, wearing the white robes of a student disciple.

And a few feet away, on the other side of the path, was Jin Zixuan again, wearing the customary golden robes of the Jin Sect.

Still not trusting his eyes, Jiang Cheng also unobtrusively pinched himself within the folds of his sleeves to make absolutely sure he wasn’t still dreaming.

The image didn’t fade.

“Well, at least now they’ll have to believe us…” Wei Wuxian, who had stopped next to him, sounded almost hesitant, which was odd for him. Jiang Cheng turned to his brother, incredulous.

“That’s all you have to say to this?” And alright, that had probably come out a bit louder than Lan regulations allowed, but for once, Jiang Cheng didn’t care. “I don’t think…”

“Jiujiu!”

“…you’ve quite grasped…”

“Jiujiu, you’re here!”

“…the enormity of the situation!”

Wei Wuxian just looked at him for a moment. “Umm, whatever… by the way – I think he’s talking about you.”

Jiang Cheng followed Wei Wuxian’s pointing finger back to the two Jin Zixuans, one of whom – the golden-robed one – reinforced the point by repeating once again.

“Jiujiu?”

Now that his attention was focussed on the golden-robed Jin Zixuan, he could tell that there was something … off … about him. It wasn’t even all that subtle – his chin was much stronger than it should have been, his nose a bit too long, and altogether he looked as if someone had tried to replicate the original Jin Zixuan but not quite gotten it right.

That was, of course, apart from the positively affectionate look the pretender aimed at him, a look he’d definitely never seen on the real Jin Zixuan’s face before. Nor was he eager to.

At least whoever was behind this seemed to have nailed the age this time, a distant part of his mind not busy fighting off hysterics at the moment noted. Which figured – of course Jiang Cheng was going to get stuck with some old guy pretending to be him, while Jin Zixuan’s copy – looked possibly even younger than the original?

Jiang Cheng growled in annoyance. It was bad enough to be beset by pretend doppelgangers, but did they have to be this inept as well?

Then again, it was still entirely possible he was yet asleep. Just to rule that out, Jiang Cheng pinched himself again for good measure.

Ouch! No, definitely not asleep.

With that, there was only one thing left to say: “What the fuck?”

For a moment, nothing could be heard but the song of the birds.

Had Jiang Cheng mentioned already how much he hated early mornings?

“This is ridiculous!”, the white-robed Jin Zixuan finally broke the collective staring contest, throwing up his hands in disgust, and a strange feeling of kinship shot through Jiang Cheng. (He immediately resolved to thoroughly wash himself at the earliest opportunity.)

At this point, one of the Lan disciples accompanying the pretend Jin Zixuan (and really, he had to come up with a better name, not even the golden peacock deserved this!) turned to his companion, his voice clearly supposed to be confidential but failing utterly: “You know, I know he looks like him, but I don’t think that’s actually Sandu Shengshu. And I’m pretty sure that isn’t Wei-qianbei either.

Jiang Cheng clutched at his sword – was this about Sandu? These people were getting stranger and stranger, and they’d already been plenty strange to begin with!

Then the second part of the Lan’s sentence registered, and he turned to his brother. “Qianbei?”

Wei Wuxian, however, ignored him utterly, and instead favoured the group with an easy grin.

“Ah, thanks for the honour, but I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

“See?” The Lan disciple had the nerve to look smug, which was an absolutely astonishing expression on a Lan. Just from that alone, Jiang Cheng could have sworn he’d never seen him before – not that he’d made a habit out of meeting every Lan junior personally. None of the other companions of the pretend Jin Zixuan seemed familiar either, which, truth be told, after the evening he’d just had and the morning he was currently having, was an immense relief.

Another Lan stepped forward from the huddle around the golden-robed pretender.

“Maybe it would be best if we all calmed down and talked about this? It’s clear there’s been some kind of misunderstanding.” Yes, that sounded much more like a proper Lan disciple. Even if Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure what there was to talk about when he clearly belonged to a band of unskilled, ludicrous excuses of imposters – except, possibly, what Jiang Cheng was going to do to all of them just as soon as they’d found the rest of these criminals.

“Misunderstanding? I’ll show you a misunderstanding!”

Once he was done with them, they’d definitely know better than to pretend to be him!

“Shut up! How dare you pretend to be my jiujiu!”

Wait, what? That was decidedly the wrong way around!

Before Jiang Cheng could say as much, Jin Zixuan suddenly felt the need to chime in. Knowing the golden peacock, he probably felt neglected.

“How dare you pretend to be the Jin Sect Leader!”

And – oh, yes, that was the Jin Sect Leader’s golden headpiece on the golden-robed pretend Jin Zixuan’s head. Which made the whole thing even more ridiculous – even the scarce handful of times he’d seen Jin Guangshan in person were enough for him to know that the pretender looked nothing like him. And that wasn’t even counting the obvious age difference!

“And how dare your friends almost scare Lan Wangji to death!”

Jiang Cheng shot an incredulous look at his brother, because – really, priorities?

“That’s what you care about?”

Besides, it was quite an exaggeration. And not one Jiang Cheng thought the stickler for rules would appreciate.

Then again, Wei Wuxian had been inordinately worried about the Second Jade of Lan ever since the previous evening, practically fretting all night and dragging him out at first light to go visit him in the infirmary. Enough that in the back of his mind, Jiang Cheng had started to think that maybe, possibly, the imposters’ words from the previous evening hadn’t been completely off. (At this point, Jiang Cheng’s mind had helpfully supplied the image of imposter Wei Wuxian tenderly brushing his hand down imposter Lan Wangji’s face. Jiang Cheng had promptly told that part of his mind to shut up – he was in no mood to deal with his brother’s potential shamelessness in an actual relationship, he already had to put up with way too much flirting under normal circumstances.)

Jiang Cheng didn’t have any time to muse upon the matter further, or even await his brother’s response, as the more Lan-like of the two imposter Lans was suddenly right next to them.

“Is Hanguang-Jun alright? What happened?”

Both brothers stared at the stranger.

“Who is Hanguang-Jun?” Wei Wuxian asked finally, much politer than Jiang Cheng had any mind to.

(“I am the Jin Sect Leader!”, the imposter Jin Zixuan screeched at the actual Jin Zixuan in the background.)

The Lan barely blinked. “Lan Wangji. Is Lan Wangji alright?”

Jiang Cheng scoffed at the earnestness in his voice. “Oh, so now you care?” He couldn’t believe these people!

(“No, you are not! The Jin Sect won’t tolerate this!”, the actual Jin Zixuan screeched back.)

“I promise I don’t know what you are talking about. If we could just…” Whatever was going to come out of the Lan’s mouth next was interrupted by a very distinctive scraping sound.

Immediately, the hair on Jiang Cheng’s neck stood on end as his hand instinctively found the hilt of his sword. His eyes sought out the other side of the clearing they were currently in.

Both of the two Jin Zixuans had drawn their weapons.

Jiang Cheng swallowed – this was not what he’d intended to do today, and before breakfast at that! However, he wasn’t about to let anybody show him up either, so he left his hand right where it was.

And apart from that – the golden peacock might be an unbearably arrogant pain in the ass, but he was also engaged to A-Jie, so as much as Jiang Cheng hated it, he did have an obligation to make sure the other didn’t get unceremoniously dispatched by a handful of incompetent imposters.

“Maybe we should talk about this first?”, the pretend Jin Zixuan’s fourth attendant (really, how many of these people were there?) muttered but was summarily ignored.

For a moment, all that could be heard was the call of the morning birds as the two prospective combatants readied themselves.

Then a loud voice thundered through the clearing and split the tension.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Jiang Cheng look back the way he and Wei Wuxian had come.

There, in the middle of the path, were the three original intruders.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Jiang Wanyin had known that their escape from the library had gone too smoothly, though even he hadn’t anticipated this particular turn of events.

Apparently, nothing in his life could ever be easy.

A-Ling – it had to be A-Ling, and he’d get to the bottom of how that had happened later – turned toward him, his face lighting up (through long training, Jiang Wanyin managed to not react to the sight, though he did feel a curious warmth in his chest. Probably a cold coming on, he decided).

“Jiujiu!”

Various other exclamations by the various other assembled youths followed (there was absolutely no way he’d had such a foul mouth as a Junior!). Strangely, the younger version of his usually so verbose older brother contented himself with merely gazing bashfully at Lan Wangji.

Well, whatever was going on there, it would have to wait until those damn idiots had put their swords away.

In a flash, he was at his nephew’s side.

“Don’t you ‘Jiujiu’ me! Haven’t I taught you better than to go around starting fights?”

Somewhere behind him, Wei Wuxian snorted – really, as if he was one to talk!

“But jiujiu!”

“One more but and I’ll break your legs!”

A-Ling pushed out his lower lip mulishly but kept quiet, reminding Jiang Wanyin very much of when he’d been a toddler, but he supposed that was the most that could be hoped for at the moment. Now, for damage control.

He turned to the boy his nephew had almost come to blows with and…

Of course.

He hadn’t seen Jin Zixuan in years – that’s what usually happened when a person died, unless, of course, that person was Wei Wuxian (or Wen Ning, but that was a different matter altogether) -, but that was unmistakeably the golden peacock. He’d recognise that arrogant smirk anywhere. (He refused to think about what would have happened if either of these two blockheads had killed the other – he’d pack that thought far away in the recesses of his mind and hyperventilate about it in private later. Or, preferably, never.)

Since this was obviously before he’d gotten his head screwed on straight and finally realised how wonderful A-Jie was, Jiang Wanyin had no compunctions about not playing nice.

“The same goes for you. Put that sword away before you hurt someone.”

The golden peacock simply blinked and then stared at him some more until Jiang Wanyin wondered if he’d severely misremembered the other man’s – boy still, really – level of intelligence.

Just before he was about to issue his demand once again, this time with more emphasis, Jin Zixuan’s apparently single braincell finally sparked back to life.

“Who are you?” His eyes flittered past Jiang Wanyin’s shoulder, catching on something – or more probably, someone – several times before roaming on. “How is this possible?”

And could Jiang Wanyin just say – he was getting tired of that question. In all its forms.

Instead of admitting that out loud, he merely snorted.

“Believe me, you really don’t want to know.”

Jin Zixuan screwed up his face unattractively, clearly about to object (Jiang Wanyin was reminded of toddler Jin Ling for the second time in as many minutes, and if that comparison wasn’t enough to make him want to scrub his brains, nothing would be), but the Jiang Sect Leader didn’t pay him any more attention.

A quick glance showed him that his brother and Hanguang-Jun had joined the other Juniors, and the eyes of the adults met – clearly, they needed to get out of here before things got even more out of hand.

Wei Wuxian’s arm twitched almost imperceptibly, but Jiang Wanyin had years of experience fighting with his brother (in both ways one could interpret that phrase, regrettably), and when the other man whipped some paper talismans out of his sleeve, he was ready. He deftly caught the small human-shaped piece of paper his brother sent him and, without pausing to consider what he was doing (there was no time for him to have a crisis of conscience over aiding and abetting demonic cultivation techniques, and besides, desperate times called for desperate measures), he slapped it on the still protesting Jin Zixuan’s back, who promptly went down like a sack of wet lotus pods.

The protests intensified in volume. Jiang Wanyin continued to ignore them.

Two further thumps and some quite creative swearing (honestly, he was almost impressed by himself) assured him that his and his brother’s younger counterparts had been dealt with as well.

Good. Then all that was left to do was to collect his nephew and the rest of the Juniors and leave the premises before the noise they’d made attracted any spectators.

After that – well, Jin Ling better have a damn good explanation.

Chapter Text

For a wonder, they made it out of the guest disciple compound without further incident – Jiang Wanyin blamed the fact that most of the guest disciples were probably unwilling to sacrifice their last dregs of sleep to figure out what the commotion was about. Either way, he wasn’t about to complain. There was a dicey moment when they encountered a group of yawning Nie disciples coming back from the outhouse area, but Wei Wuxian solved that handily by shoving his husband and the two junior Lans to the front and letting their pristine white robes and regulation greetings serve as a distraction while the rest of their group snuck around the back.

Apart from that, their biggest problem turned out to be getting his nephew and the other members of the younger generation up the mountainside without stopping on the way to explain the situation (not that Jiang Wanyin wasn’t dying inside himself to find out how A-Ling had suddenly turned up here – and about to duel his own father to boot!), but some handily placed threats of bodily harm (from Jiang Wanyin) and a succinctly worded mention of the versatility of the Lan silencing spell (from Hanguang-Jun) solved that problem nicely (sometimes, he could almost understand what his brother saw in the man).

By the time the sun had fully risen, they’d finally managed to make it up to the hut Hanguang-Jun had picked as their base of operations, thankfully without further incidents.

“What is this place?” His nephew wrinkled his nose, gazing suspiciously at the decrepit interior and making it impossible to mistake him for anything but a Jin.

“Nevermind that! How did you get here?”

“What do you mean, here? We came to the Cloud Recesses together, you’re the one who disappeared!”

“You dare talk back to me?” Jiang Wanyin took a step closer, but before he could demand further explanations, Lan Sizhui spoke up: “Sandu Shengshou, Jin Ling could not find you anywhere, so he asked for our help. We looked for you in the jingshi and discovered Hanguang-Jun and Wei-qianbei missing as well. While we were there, an array activated, which caused us to fall unconscious. When we woke up, we went in further search of you, which was when we encountered you and Wei-qianbei, only that it obviously wasn’t you, and, umm…”

“And that weird Jin disciple who’s too stupid to recognise his own sect leader!”, Lan Jingyi helped him out, and Jiang Wanyin wasn’t surprised in the least that he was involved in all of this.

“Language”, Lan Wangji chided.

Before he could start expounding on whatever rule Lan Jingyi had just violated (Jiang Wanyin certainly thought him capable of that, even in this situation), Jin Ling crossed his arms belligerently. “Whoever that was isn’t part of the Jin Sect, I’ve never seen him before. I don’t know why you made us leave, jiujiu, he deserves to be taught a lesson!”

Oh, so that’s what had been going on. Considering everything, Jiang Wanyin could hardly blame A-Ling for how he’d reacted, given the circumstances.

He could, however, very well blame Wei Wuxian.

So he did.

“Do you hear that? This is what happens when you insist on experimenting with strange arrays!”

His brother had the audacity to look surprised. “Me? Come on, Jiang Cheng, they’re fine! And besides, we’ve got a way back now.”

“Yes, and if we don’t use it soon, we’ll apparently all be dead!”

Jiang Wanyin waited for an answer; not that there could be any answer to that that would satisfy him, but perhaps Wei Wuxian did deserve to speak before he got truly worked up – despite the rumours, years of attending public functions had actually taught him how to reign in his temper. At least somewhat.

“Umm, excuse me – what do you mean, dead?” Jiang Wanyin blinked. That wasn’t Wei Wuxian but one of the Juniors - the Baling Ouyang heir, if he remembered correctly. Jin Ling had been getting rather friendly with him recently, so Jiang Wanyin supposed his presence here made sense.

The boy shrunk back when Jiang Wanyin turned his attention on him and – oh, yes, perhaps he should keep his wrath to Wei Wuxian. Right.

For fuck’s sake, he was going to have to explain this mess to A-Ling!

Apparently, the thought didn’t help his expression turn any more friendly, for the Baling Ouyang heir was starting to turn positively white. Well, if he couldn’t tolerate a single angry sect leader, the boy would have no chance of prevailing in a fight. An uncharitable thought, his mind reminded him – Ouyang Zizhen had more than proved his integrity in the Burial Mounds.

Judging by the boy’s expression, his subsequent efforts to relax his features were only met with mixed success.

Before Jiang Wanyin could grow annoyed all over again, Wei Wuxian’s nervous laughter filled the air. “Hehe, Jiang Cheng, don’t frighten the Juniors!”

Well, if there was one person he didn’t mind being annoyed with… “I wasn’t the one who caused this!”

“You did kind of help…”

The nerve! “You…” Before he could cover the distance between them, Hanguang-Jun had moved in front of Wei Wuxian.

“Need to explain to them.” Would it really kill the man to speak in full sentences?

“I for one would really love an explanation right about now…”, Lan Jingyi ventured, half-raising his arm as if he were attending a lecture.

Jiang Wanyin pressed his lips together and forcibly reminded himself that the Juniors weren’t responsible for the frustration he was feeling right now, and that also, he could always kill his brother later, in private, when this matter had been resolved.

Finally, he managed to unclench his jaw enough to speak.

“Yes, Wei Wuxian, please explain.”

If Jiang Wanyin had hoped being put on the spot would spark at least some contrition in his brother, he was sorely mistaken. Then again, he’d always loved being the centre of attention – clearly, that plan had been doomed to fail from the start.

Supremely unaffected by the daggers Jiang Wanyin was shooting at him with his eyes, Wei Wuxian merely shrugged. “It’s quite simple, really – Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng were helping me with an experiment concerning an array I found in one of the texts in the library. The experiment worked, and we now know that it sends people to the past. Judging by what you told us, there was still some residual energy left in the array when you stumbled across it, so now you’re here as well. It makes perfect sense!”

Jiang Wanyin closed his eyes and slowly counted to ten – murdering his brother in front of all these people would surely cause more problems than it solved; if nothing else, they needed him to get back. Besides, he rather liked these robes, and there were some materials even the servants at Lotus Pier never quite managed to get bloodstains out of.

There was a pause.

“So you’re saying we’ve travelled through time?”, Lan Sizhui asked, looking to Hanguang-Jun for confirmation.

“Hn”, Hanguang-Jun replied.

“By about twenty years”, Wei Wuxian clarified, nodding.

“I’m still confused…” Lan Jingyi was looking between the three of them. “So those people we met earlier pretending to be Wei-qianbei and Sandu Shengshou really are Wei-qianbei and Sandu Shengshou?”

Jiang Wanyin snorted. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“And the Jin disciple didn’t recognise Jin Ling because he isn’t sect leader yet!” Ouyang Zizhen added triumphantly, clearly having just figured that out.

“He’s still an idiot”, Jin Ling grumbled.

Jiang Wanyin winced.

“What? Who was that?”, his nephew demanded – of course he’d choose this particular moment to be observant.

“Nevermind that.” Jiang Wanyin was not going to open that can of worms.

“Jiujiu, tell me!” Oh, and that was the same wheedling voice Jiang Wanyin still remembered from when A-Ling had been small enough to sit on his lap and beg for sweets. He’d never been able to say no to him then either. (Really, looking back at how both he and the Jin Sect hat treated the boy, it was a miracle he’d developed any self-restraint at all.)

“…your father”, he finally admitted.

Jin Ling drew back as if he’d been stabbed, all colour leaving his face. “Father?”

A pit started opening up in Jiang Wanyin’s stomach as his nephew’s eyes filled with moisture, and really, what right did he have to look so upset? He’d never even met the man! Besides, Jiang Wanyin could not tolerate that look on A-Ling’s face. There had to be something he could say, anything at all…

“See, that’s why you don’t go around picking fights with people you don’t know!”

Good job, a voice in the back of his mind commented with a distinctly sarcastic tint, and somewhere behind him Jiang Wanyin could clearly make out the sound of someone slapping their forehead (they wouldn’t dare do that to his face!).

Still, the threatened tears receded, and some colour came back into Jin Ling’s face as he slowly turned red: “I will if they’re stupid!”

Good – annoyed was much better than sad. Satisfied, Jiang Wanyin told his inner voice to fuck off and put his arm around his nephew.

And if said nephew immediately nestled into his side – well, if anybody said anything, Jiang Wanyin would just have to break their legs.

Time to change the topic. He squeezed A-Ling’s shoulder for good measure and gave Wei Wuxian a pointed look.

“It won’t matter anyway, because we’ll be going back soon.”

His brother blinked, apparently still preoccupied with staring at Jin Ling, which was exactly what Jiang Wanyin was trying to prevent everyone from doing.

Time to try again.

“On account of not wanting to die?”

His brother blinked again, and Jiang Wanyin could almost see the moment he understood.

Why again had he ever thought this man was smart?

“Aww, Jiang Cheng, didn’t I tell you not to scare the Juniors? We’ve got twelve whole days – “, he stopped for a moment, considering, “no, eleven whole days before the timeline notices we shouldn’t be here and starts devouring us alive. That’s plenty of time to set up the array to get back!”

“Devouring us alive?”, Ouyang Zizhen muttered, sounding faint.

Lan Jingyi’s face scrunched up in confusion: “What does that even mean?”

Standing next to them, Lan Sizhui visibly stiffened.

Suddenly, Jiang Wanyin felt a whole lot better about his mediocre attempt to comfort A-Ling earlier.

The only one who seemed supremely unaffected was Hanguang-Jun, though it was hard to tell whether that was due to his stoic nature or his preternatural belief in Wei Wuxian.

Either way, Jiang Wanyin for one was not impressed. “Well, everything’s great then.”

Wei Wuxian nodded enthusiastically, either not noticing or completely ignoring the sarcasm. This was quite a feat, considering that Jiang Wanyin had followed it up with an – if he did say so himself – truly impressive eyeroll.

“We’ll be fine! Though we should probably wait a couple of days before we go back to the jingshi, they might be looking for us after what happened.”

“The jingshi?” What was he talking about now?

“According to the text, we need to set up the array where we arrived. But we can hide out here in the meantime, getting the array set up shouldn’t take too long.” Wei Wuxian didn’t look particularly troubled, which was just typical.

Well, if they ran into their younger selves again, he’d let him deal with the situation then.

Jiang Wanyin was just about to inform his brother of that – using slightly stronger language - when Jin Ling separated himself from his uncle’s side. “What do you mean, hide out? How are we going to save my parents if we do that?”

Without any effort on his part, Jiang Wanyin’s hands clenched into fists.

Wei Wuxian looked pained.

Good. After all, he was the one responsible for this mess.

“A-Ling, it’s complicated…”

Jiang Wanyin’s expression soured - what gave Wei Wuxian any right to be so familiar with their nephew when it was Jiang Wanyin who’d raised him? Wait, had his brother managed to get into A-Ling’s good graces even more than Jiang Wanyin had feared? He wasn’t going to stand for being replaced!

Unaware of his uncle’s crisis of confidence, Jin Ling threw his head back, a stubborn tilt to his chin. “I don’t see what’s complicated. You just said we’ve got eleven days to change things and stop the stupid war!”

Lan Sizhui, who had so far been hovering around Lan Wangji (who had, in turn, been hovering around Wei Wuxian, as usual) observing the situation, weighed in. “I agree. This seems like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

He appeared unusually confrontational for a Lan, at least until Jiang Wanyin remembered there was probably a reason he’d grown up as Lan Wangji’s ward and not with his parents. Perhaps, then, it wasn’t surprising that in response, Lan Wangji managed almost an entire sentence: “Might be unintended consequences.”

Lan Sizhui opened his mouth as if to argue, but Jin Ling beat him to it: “I don’t care! I’m not going to let my mother and father die!”

The sour feeling in Jiang Wanyin’s stomach exploded upwards: “It’s not that easy! If we change things too much, you might not even be born, you idiot!”

Jin Ling, face redding, didn’t miss a beat. “I said, I don’t care!”

“Why, you…” He was going to get his idiot nephew to see reason, one way or the other! “Then I guess I’m going to have to break your legs and tie you up in this shed until we’re ready to go back, won’t I?”

“Now, now, I’m sure there’s no need for that”, Wei Wuxian came between them, which didn’t help matters much but at least gave Jiang Wanyin a more deserving target to vent his anger on. “I’m not sure I trust you to know what’s needed considering you’re the entire reason this is an issue in the first place!”

Wei Wuxian had the audacity to look offended at that. “Hey, it’s not like I planned this!”

Jiang Wanyin saw red. “Well, maybe you should have learned to be more careful by now! You’ve certainly fucked up badly enough before to know better!”

A look of hurt crossed his brother’s face, making regret spark in Jiang Wanyin. He felt more than saw Lan Wangji take a step forward, but he was too far gone now, he was…

“Excuse me, do you remember coming here?”

Suddenly, the Baling Ouyang heir was in the middle of them. “What?”, Jiang Wanyin asked dumbly, the wind taken out of his sails.

“Do you remember coming here and meeting yourselves? I mean, when you were young.”

Jiang Wanyin, too surprised at the question to object, thought for a moment, then shook his head. Across from him, his brother and Lan Wangji shared a look before he answered for both of them: “No, definitely not.”

Ouyang Zizhen nodded. “Isn’t that odd? It seems like the kind of thing you’d remember.”

Jiang Wanyin narrowed his eyes, his already frayed temper flaring up again. “If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

To his credit, the boy barely flinched, holding his ground. “It’s just – if you don’t remember that, then maybe anything we change here won’t change us? As in, us as we are here now?”

He had to hand it to the boy, that actually made sense.

(“Might just mean nothing we change here changes anything at all”, Lan Jingyi said in the background, followed by a quick “Ouch!” as one of the other Junior’s elbows found its way into his side.)

It still wasn’t enough for Jiang Wanyin to risk losing Jin Ling.

“That’s not good enough”, he said, looking to Hanguang-Jun and hoping for an unlikely ally.

“So you’re saying we should just go back without doing anything and condemn everyone to their deaths because you’re scared?”, Jin Ling blurted out accusingly, making Jiang Wanyin’s eyes snap to him. He opened his mouth to refute his nephew’s ridiculous claim, but…

His mind’s eye was suddenly filled with all the people he’d lost. A-Jie, his mother and father, sixth shidi and all the other shidis and shimeis he’d grown up with, all the cultivators and civilians he’d helped bury or burn. He saw before him the Lotus Pier of his childhood that he’d never managed to rebuild quite right after it had been destroyed, how beautiful Wen Qing had looked despite everything the day he’d given her the comb, and Wei Wuxian, the way he’d been before those Wen Dogs had gotten their hands on him. Even the peacock, who, after all, had been A-Ling’s father, and dear to A-Jie.

Against that – the laughter of A-Ling, barely a year old and toddling into his arms for the first time.

Suddenly, he didn’t have the energy to feign outrage.

“A-Ling…”

Something like understanding sparked in his nephew’s eyes, but his expression remained firm. “We need to change it.”

And wasn’t that the truth? He’d never let fear rule him before, and he certainly hadn’t rebuilt an entire sect from almost nothing by being indecisive or backing down from a challenge.

Across the room, he could see Hanguang-Jun and Wei Wuxian in an intent discussion with the two junior Lans, and suddenly he was ashamed – since when did they need a bunch of Juniors to show them what was right?

“You’re correct”, he heard himself say, his own voice sounding strange to his ears. Jin Ling blinked up at him in surprise, clearly not anticipating such an easy victory. His face slowly took on a pleased expression.

Better to nip that in the bud quickly.

He grabbed Jin Ling’s ear, pulling just enough to make sure the boy was paying attention. “You still need to learn some proper respect when talking to your elders!”

Jin Ling freed himself from his grip without much difficulty. “Jiujiu! I’m a sect leader now, you can’t do that anymore!”

“You’re an impertinent brat, that’s what you are, and I’ll keep reminding you of that as long as it’s necessary!”

Now that he’d made his decision, he felt lighter than he’d had since – well, the previous evening, when this entire thing had started. Over on the Lan side of the room, the conversation seemed to have come to a similar conclusion, judging by the Juniors’ demeanour.

“Now that that’s settled, how are we going to do this?” Wei Wuxian asked, rubbing his hands eagerly and sounding for all the world as if they’d just decided on taking an afternoon stroll down to Caiyi Town instead of changing the course of history.

Jiang Wanyin despaired of him, he really did.

“Can’t you take things seriously for once in your life?”, he hissed, his eyebrows trying to emphasize the gravity of the situation by their own accord.

The attempt was ruined when Lan Sizhui, of all people, let out a giant yawn. “Sorry, I haven’t had a lot of sleep tonight…”, he mumbled while Ouyang Zizhen clearly struggled to hold back a yawn as well. Lan Jingyi was less polite. “Yeah, somebody insisted on us getting up in the middle of the night to go look for his jiujiu…”

Still standing next to Jiang Wanyin, Jin Ling bristled. “Good thing I did too, otherwise we still would have no idea what’s going on!”

Lan Jingyi’s eyes sparkled. “Ooh, is Young Mistress cranky because she hasn’t had her beauty sleep?”

Jin Ling’s mouth fell open in outrage. “You…” Jiang Wanyin just barely managed to catch his arm before he went after Lan Jingyi. (The proud uncle in Jiang Wanyin – which, admittedly, was a fairly large and well-tended part of him – noted that his nephew’s reflexes were starting to be quite impressive.)

“Maybe we should all get an hour or two of sleep before we start any planning”, he noted dryly, sending a firm look to both boys to make sure there wasn’t going to be a scuffle later.

It worked like a charm on Lan Jingyi, but unfortunately, A-Ling had been immune to his looks for years now. He’d just have to trust in his nephew’s maturity, which, admittedly, was further developed than Jiang Wanyin usually gave him credit for.

It didn’t take them long to divide up the available floor space – there wasn’t a lot of it, for one – and soon, they were getting ready to bed down where they stood.

Jiang Wanyin wasn’t planning to sleep, of course – he’d gone awake for much longer, in the war, or even when Jin Ling had been teething (now those had been exhausting nights) –, but the young hotheads could certainly do with a nap. Besides, he wasn’t sure how long Wei Wuxian could go without sleep, considering that he lacked a Golden Core to help with regeneration.

Not that he was concerned.

Which was fortunate, as the man in question didn’t seem in any particular haste to comply with his suggestion.

“Eh, you go ahead and sleep, Lan Wangji and I are going to go for a short walk first, someone needs to make sure we haven’t been followed”, his brother declared instead. He might almost have fooled Jiang Wanyin, if not for the looks Lan Wangji was shooting him.

And the fact that their hands were intertwined.

And the kiss Wei Wuxian pressed on Lan Wangji’s cheek as they left.

Really, how the hell had they taken so long to figure this out? And of course it was him, Jiang Wanyin, who had to suffer – stuck in the past with two lovesick idiots as he was.

He just hoped they’d at least wait until they were out of earshot of the hut before they got started.

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji returned about half an hour after they’d left, Wei Wuxian’s robes badly rumpled. There was no way that had happened during a scouting expedition, but considering he could have been exposed to much worse signs of his brother’s depravity, Jiang Wanyin decided to be magnanimous for once and not mention it. Besides, the Juniors had just fallen asleep – waking them would have been a shame.

For a wonder, Wei Wuxian dropped off to sleep almost immediately, head pillowed on his husband’s thigh while Lan Wangji sat against the wall of the hut in an echo of their arrangement in the library earlier. Jiang Wanyin supposed he could tolerate such a sickeningly sweet display if it helped his brother get some much-needed rest - after all, his brother had always been even more intolerable than usual when he was tired, and they’d all need to be at their sharpest in the following days. At least, that was the reason he gave himself for commenting on the arrangement with nothing more than an exaggerated eyeroll.

Moment by moment, the morning wore on. Lan Wangji, having claimed one of the corners for himself and his husband, spent the time quietly meditating – as far as Jiang Wanyin could tell. Not that he knew how the man could look so serene when they were about to change the course of history. Als for Jiang Wanyin himself – it was all he could do to not pace up and down the dirty cabin floor (which would undoubtedly have woken the members of their party who were currently slumbering away) while he kept turning the possibilities open to them now over and over in his mind.

The sun had almost reached its zenith by the time he decided it was past time they get to work; besides, both the snoring and the overpowering need to run down the mountain and get a glimpse of A-Jie were getting too much for him to bear.

Shortly after that, once everyone had had time for a quick jaunt out to the not-quite-cold-enough pools (really, for all their purported self-restraint, Lans were incredibly picky) to wash themselves, the group assembled in the hut once more. Everybody looked much more clear-eyed than they’d been a few hours ago, Jiang Wanyin noted with satisfaction. Even Wei Wuxian’s robes seemed less rumpled, as if they’d profited from enforced naptime as well.

“Right. I’ve got a couple of ideas, but first – any suggestions what we should start with?” Oh, great. His brother was practically bouncing with excitement where he sat.

Jiang Wanyin could already feel a headache coming on, and they hadn’t even started planning yet.

“Why don’t we just tell somebody what’s going to happen? Maybe Lan-laoxiansheng, or Zewu-Jun, or I could write to my father, I’m sure they would…”

Jiang Wanyin restrained the need to cuff the Baling Ouyang heir upside the head. Ah, to be that trusting again…

“And what reason would they have to believe us? They’re more likely to lock us up than to listen!”

The boy flinched back but at least seemed to have gotten his point.

“A-Cheng, haven’t I told you not to frighten the Juniors? Besides, it’s not a bad idea to let somebody know,” Wei Wuxian interjected, leaning into Lan Wangji far more than was proper – and what’s more, Lan Wangji was letting it happen.

Those two were going to be the end of him. But especially Wei Wuxian.

“And risk them stopping us from going back in time? Are you so eager to die again? No, we’re going to do this ourselves!”

“Jiang Wanyin…” Lan Wangji practically growled and sat up, somehow managing not to dislodge Wei Wuxian in the process.

Immediately, Wei Wuxian’s hand was on his arm. Or had it been there all along? “I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that, A-Zhan. And he’s not entirely wrong,“ Jiang Wanyin snorted – there was no ‘entirely’ about this, “we do need to make sure we’ll be able to get back here in time. But there’s nothing that stops us from leaving some letters behind.”

Ouyang Zizhen positively beamed at the indirect praise – and really, what had his brother done to earn that level of hero worship?

“I suppose we can do that. That still leaves the question of what we’re going to do right now,” Jiang Cheng emphasized once he’d finished rolling his eyes.

Before he could continue, he was interrupted by a loud growling noise.

“Sorry!” Lan Jingyi exclaimed, clearly mortified, even as several other stomachs answered.

“Well, I guess that takes care of that question,” Jiang Cheng commented wryly.

With that, the more serious discussion was put on hold as the two Lan Juniors were dispatched on a mission to sneak down the mountain for some lunch. They’d be much more likely to blend in, and furthering their chances of success, it turned out Lan Jingyi already had experience pilfering sweets from the Lan Sect’s community kitchen.

Jiang Wanyin wasn’t surprised in the least.

Once the two boys had left, it didn’t take long for their war meeting to get back into full swing, and soon they’d finished compiling a list of events that needed changing the most.

The biggest surprise had come when A-Ling had adamantly insisted that they needed to keep his xiao shushu from screwing up his own life as well, not just everyone else’s – Jiang Wanyin’s words, not Jin Ling’s. How the boy could refer to Jin Guangyao, who, he supposed, would currently still be known as Meng Yao, with such a term of endearment after everything that had happened was beyond him.

He supposed that, as long as nobody tried to put in a good word for Wen Ruohan or any of his deplorable offspring (unlikely), he could grant his nephew that much. After all, before he proved himself a duplicitous, honourless murderer, he had been a borderline competent co-parent to A-Ling. (Now that he thought about it, that probably had a hand in A-Ling’s ready decision to save the man from himself.)

It meant that they would have to journey to Yunmeng, which, in turn, suited Wei Wuxian just fine, since he’d apparently gotten it into his head to dispatch of Xue Yang. While Jiang Wanyin had never personally had any particularly noteworthy contact with the man, getting rid of him would, according to his brother, save his brother’s mother’s shidi, said shidi’s companion, a peasant girl all of the Juniors seemed inexplicably fond of (the Baling Ouyang heir in particular let out a wistful sigh whenever her name came up), the people of Yi City and the entirety of the Yueyang Chang Clan.

Well, nobody had said their endeavour wasn’t ambitious. And besides, Jiang Wanyin might not have known much about the man except for the bare facts, but he did know he’d put A-Ling in peril, and that was enough for Jiang Wanyin to not mourn his passing.

By the time the Lan Juniors came back, laden with all kinds of portable foodstuffs, they’d made quite a bit of headway; they’d even started putting together a provisional itinerary for the next couple of days.

Which turned out to be a good thing, considering the news the two brought.

“They’re looking for us all over the Cloud Recesses. We even heard talk of sending a search party up the mountain,” Lan Sizhui declared worriedly as he handed out filled dumplings.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji remarked.

“Yes, you’re right, they must have found our younger selves. Ha, I can only imagine how confused everyone is!” Wei Wuxian brightened in mirth at the same time that Jiang Wanyin’s frown deepened.

“All the more reason to get out of here quickly.” Not that they had time to spare anyway – who knew how long it was going to take to find everyone they needed. And if Wen Ruohan wasn’t in Nightless City… Jiang Wanyin forced himself to unclench his jaw. No point worrying about that before it happened.

He was really looking forward to killing the bastard, though.

“Ah, Jiang Cheng, you’re ruining all my fun!” Wei Wuxian complained, lounging back against the hut’s wall while Lan Wangji spread out their share of the looted lunch on a handkerchief between them.

Jiang Wanyin settled down across from them – naturally in a more dignified manner than his brother – and glared at his wayward sibling for good measure. “We’re not here to have fun! We’ll get going as soon as we’ve eaten.”

“Always so serious! You’re going to get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that, you know.”

“I’ll give you wrinkles!” Jiang Wanyin was already halfway across the space between them when he remembered that now might not be the best time to throttle his brother and that, furthermore, four impressionable Juniors were watching.

Quite intently, even.

“You! Go on and eat!” he ordered them imperiously before returning to his place.

For a while, the hut was filled only by the sounds of chewing. The silence was not to last, however – as soon as Lan Jingyi had licked the last bit of flavoured spinach off his thumb, he sat forward: “So where are we going to go now? Because that was kind of still up in the air when Sizhui and I left. Unless we’re only relocating to Caiyi Town? What, I’m finished!”

That last was directed at Lan Wangji. Jiang Wanyin could, for the life of him, not make out any change in the man’s expression, but he supposed a fellow Lan might have advantages on that front.

There was another beat, and then Wei Wuxian started talking as if nothing had happened. “We’ve decided to start in Yunmeng. You and the other Juniors are to go to Yunping City and seek out Meng Yao.”

Lan Sizhui inclined his head. “Jin Guangyao? Of course. So the rest of you will be travelling to Lotus Pier?”

Jiang Wanyin was pretty sure he’d managed not to flinch, but A-Ling gave him a funny look anyway. He suppressed the urge to lick his lips. “No. We’ve decided that would be – counterproductive. It might cause problems if the current sect leader or his wife,” his parents, he was talking about his parents, who were alive, “were to spot us. And there is nothing we need to change there right now anyway.” Oh, but how he wanted to go! The words felt like gravel in his mouth.

He must not have hidden his feelings very well, for the look Wei Wuxian gave him was decidedly sympathetic. Or maybe he was feeling the same way – for as much as he’d told himself that Wei Wuxian must not have truly cared about their family after the way he’d acted, Jiang Wanyin was starting to wake up to the knowledge that that hadn’t been true.

It didn’t take them long to disguise the traces of their stay as best they could – unfortunately, it was simply impossible to return the thick layer of dust to all its former glory – and soon they were on their way further up the mountain to a secluded spot they could use for take-off without worrying about being seen from further down in the valley.

As usual, the wind this high up made it hard to talk, so Jiang Wanyin and the others were left to mostly stew in their own thoughts, except for Wei Wuxian and Lang Wangji, who were sharing a sword and were therefore in talking distance. And, as a quick glance over to them confirmed, in kissing distance as well.

Ugh.

They arrived near Yunping City in the late afternoon, gliding down into a little clearing as the last rays of the sun disappeared behind the treetops. That was just as well – this way, they’d get an early start the next day. They immediately went about setting up camp, and after they had established a watch rotation – while they didn’t expect trouble, it was always best to be prepared – Jiang Wanyin found himself bedding down beneath the thick branches of a conifer, the dry needles underneath digging into his back. Despite that and Lan Jingyi’s snores, sleep took him quickly (the one good thing the war had done was teach him to be able to sleep under any circumstances), and soon he was dreaming sweet dreams of revenge.

The Cloud Recesses guest disciple compound, earlier that day

“Hey, Jiang Cheng, can you move?” Jiang Cheng resisted the urge to scream and rolled his eyes instead.

At least that still worked.

“No, you idiot! They obviously hit us with some sort of spell!”

“Who were those people?” came an annoyed voice from somewhere to his right, and, oh yes, they’d gotten the golden peacock as well.

At least something good to come out of all of this, he supposed.

Jiang Wanyin managed to get his hands under his shoulders and tried to push himself up onto his knees. “Dead … that’s what they are … just as soon as I … find them.”

He stopped pushing with a grunt; it was no use. Whatever those people had used, it was too powerful.

“Wait, I think I’ve got it… almost…” Jiang Wanyin rolled his head to the left and watched his brother contort himself, one hand slowly inching up his own back until he managed to touch the talisman there with the tip of one finger. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it… no, that’s not going to work.” Wei Ying’s arm flopped back to the ground beside him.

“This is absolutely unacceptable!” Jin Zixuan exclaimed, which, yes, but also – “At least your doppelganger isn’t ten years too old!”

“What?”

Wei Ying, in the meantime, was trying his hardest to dislocate his neck trying to look at the talisman on his back. “I wonder how they work?”

“That’s what you’re thinking of now?” Jiang Cheng would have hit him, but since that was currently impossible, he made do with an incredulous stare. “Really? Now?”

“Why not? They’re far gone by now, and it’s the closest thing we have to a clue…”

“I still want to know who these people are!” Jin Zixuan was rapidly turning an alarming shade of red. It wasn’t particularly attractive.

“Don’t you think I…” Jiang Cheng stopped as something hit his back. He turned his face back in the other direction. Wei Ying was still lying there, in the middle of the road (all of their robes were going to be impossible to get clean), only that now, he had a stick in his hand and was poking Jiang Cheng’s back with the end of it. The tip of his tongue was sticking out from the corner of his mouth in concentration.

“Shh, Jiang Cheng… hold still…”

“As if that’s a problem right now! What are you doing?”

“Trying to get the talisman off… there!” Just as Wei Ying crowed triumphantly, Jiang Cheng suddenly felt as if a huge weight had been taken off his back, and he was able to sit up freely.

“See? I knew that would work! Now get mine.”

Jiang Cheng took a moment to revel in his newfound freedom of movement, then reached over to peel the talisman from his brother’s back. Before he could get a closer look, Wei Ying had already pounced up and snatched it from his hands again. “Ooh, I’ve never seen anything like this before! I wonder what these runes here do?”

Unbelievable! “Who cares! Come on, we need to let people know that those imposters are back again!”

He took a couple of steps down the path, dragging his brother, who was still engrossed in the talisman, behind him by the sleeve when something sparked in his mind.

There was something he’d forgotten…

“Hey! What about me?”

Oh yes – the golden peacock.

Well, at least now, they had to believe them.

Back in Yunmeng…

The next morning, the adults and the Juniors split up to go their separate ways as planned, and Jiang Wanyin spent the next few hours in the air, keeping himself from making a beeline for Lotus Pier by his fingertips while fighting the occasional urge to murder his companions for being absolutely shameless in public.

Even if that public consisted exclusively of Jiang Wanyin and the occasional flock of birds.

Once again, the two were sharing a sword, and while Jiang Wanyin had to admit that Lan Wangji was quite the proficient flyer and clearly had an impeccable sense of balance (not that the Second Jade of Lan’s skills had ever been in any doubt), he could have well done without the demonstrations of marital affection the two put on, even if, despite their quite impressive contortions, all their clothes stayed firmly in place. Jiang Wanyin made the mistake of looking more closely only once and was rewarded with a glimpse of tongue. After that, he kept his gaze firmly ahead.

They touched down on the outskirts of Kuizhou, a muddy little town framed by low rolling mountains on one side which simultaneously signified the Western border of the Yunmeng area. Despite the fact that Jiang Wanyin had been through here a handful of times before during one of his semi-regular inspection tours, he could remember nothing distinctive about the place except the one time they had petitioned, and been granted, help from Lotus Pier after a particularly nasty landslide during the rainy season.

“You sure he’s here?” Jiang Wanyin asked once windswept hair had been petted down and robes righted, even if he seemed the only one in the party capable of doing that for himself.

Wei Wuxian nodded, expression unusually grim. “Yes. From what I remember, he had quite a gang built up – extortion, robbery, even a couple of wealthy travellers that went missing and were never found.”

Jiang Wanyin’s expression darkened. “Looks like it’s way past time somebody took care of him then.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji agreed – for once, Jiang Wanyin had no trouble reading him.

Which was how, half an hour later, he found himself following a shifty-eyed youth through the backstreets of the seedier part of town, the three time-travellers having split up to cover more ground quickly.

Considering their surroundings, which grew shabbier practically by the step, Jiang Wanyin put the odds at about even that the teenager, despite having sworn he knew exactly where Xue Yang could be found, was in reality leading him into an ambush to rob him. Which, since Xue Yang was apparently the linchpin for most of the crime around here, was actually part of his plan. He certainly wasn’t afraid of facing a gang of petty criminals, and either way, he’d have custody of Xue Yang in the end.

Jiang Wanyin was almost surprised when they stopped at the opening to a narrow offshoot of the lane they had been following and he wasn’t immediately accosted.

“That’s him. Now where’s my money?” his guide demanded, the creaky wooden shacks to the left and right of them just tall enough to cover their surroundings in shadow.

Jiang Wanyin looked further into the dead alley he’d been led to. A slight figure was cowering to one side, bent over something Jiang Wanyin couldn’t see, but jumped up immediately once they arrived.

Jiang Wanyin blinked, looked at the figure again, then looked back at his reluctant guide.

“Are you trying to cheat me? Because I assure you, that won’t end well for you.”

“I’m not! That’s Xue Yang!”

At the guide’s words, the figure in the shadows backed up further into the alleyway. “What the fuck are you doing here?” they demanded.

It sounded supremely unintimidating, partly due to the lisp caused by the two gaps in their upper teeth where their permanent teeth were only just coming in.

Jiang Wanyin ignored him. “That’s a child” he stated, somewhat superfluously.

The guide nodded, now looking more puzzled than worried. “Yes, so?”

Jiang Wanyin let out a slow breath and started to slowly count to ten.

He wasn’t even at five yet when the child tried to weasel its way past him to freedom. A quick grab saved him the indignity of having to go haring off after a kid half his size. At least, now that they were out of the comparatively dark alley and back in the sunlight, he finally had the opportunity to get a good look at the future bane of Yi City.

The boy was in a sorry state. His clothes were in dirty tatters, barely more than rags. Under normal circumstances, Jiang Wanyin wouldn’t have estimated him to be any older than nine, but he’d seen enough war orphans to know that too much hardship and too little food could easily stunt a child’s growth.

It was one of the reasons that, after the war, he’d made sure to establish soup kitchens and orphanages in every town big enough to support one and had employed people to scour the smaller towns for unclaimed orphans once things had become stable enough he could plan beyond the immediate survival of the Jiang Clan. After all, a sickly people made for a sickly land. Or something. (It definitely didn’t have anything to do with the fact that he saw little homeless Wei Wuxian in every starving gutter rat at the side of the street.)

Jiang Wanyin was ripped out of his not-so-sweet memories when the gutter rat currently attached to the end of his arm tried to bite him.

“What the…”

He quickly transferred the boy to his other arm while shaking out his hand, holding him more securely this time. The boy cursed back at him while trying to squirm free again.

If nothing else, he certainly had a colourful vocabulary.

“Shut up. I’m not going to hurt you.”

For a wonder, the boy did as he was told, though Jiang Wanyin harboured no illusions that it wasn’t simply for the purposes of planning his next escape attempt more comprehensively. He looked back at the place where the kid had been sitting and saw a small pile of clearly purloined coins.

“You stole that?” he asked, but the boy only snarled at him wordlessly – really, what had he expected – so Jiang Wanyin bent down, the miniature future butcher of the Yueyang Chang Clan tucked securely into his side, and scooped up the little stash. It was easy enough – even if he hadn’t been a trained cultivator, the boy weighed almost nothing.

“You can have that back if you’re good. And stop biting,” he informed the squirming kid tucked under his arm and turned to pay off his guide and find his companions.

It turned out that walking through the streets of Kuizhou carrying a protesting child was worryingly easy. There was a moment of hope when Jiang Wanyin was stopped in the middle of the street by an irritated woman, but it turned out she was less concerned with child welfare and more with the pristineness of her white-patterned robe, which the kid had managed to hit with his flailing, grubby hands.

Needless to say, the expression on Jiang Wanyin’s face once he realised that quickly had her backing up into the crowd and disappearing.

Once she was gone, Jiang Wanyin looked down at the bundle he was carrying – the boy might have been a future mass murderer, but right now, he was just a little kid, and Jiang Wanyin, despite being proud of his fearsome reputation, had no desire to go down in history as an ogre who frightened children for fun.

It turned out he needn’t have worried, because far from cowering in fear the boy wasn’t paying him the slightest attention, instead focussed on something shiny in his hands. There was something wrong with his left one, but that wasn’t what had Jiang Wanyin doing a double take.

“Is that her purse?”

And oh, that had come out a little loud, hadn’t it? Jiang Wanyin quickly looked around to make sure nobody had noticed – just a cultivator ferrying a feral child around, nothing to see –, then turned back to the boy, who was looking up at him belligerently from where he was still held securely against Jiang Wanyin’s waist, arms and feet dangling.

“So what, mister? Besides, this was the perfect height to get into her pockets!”

“You…!” Jiang Wanyin exhaled forcibly, told himself that arguing with an nine-(or whatever)-year-old in the middle of the street was not an image he wanted to project and stormed on, still carrying the boy, the crowd helpfully parting in front of them once they saw the look on his face.

Besides, if the woman was happy to let him walk away with a child that clearly didn’t belong to him, he was going to let said child walk away with her purse.

Thankfully, it didn’t take him long to spot a familiar white- and black-robed pair once he’d reached what seemed to be the town’s main market square. As soon as he was close enough, he removed the kid from his waist and hoisted him up by the back of his grimy robes instead so that the other two could see him above the crowd.

“Does this happen to be the murderous psychopath Jin Ling told me about?”

He almost received a kick to the face for his troubles – damn, the kid had good reflexes – but was at least rewarded for his efforts with a visibly surprised intake of breath and a curt nod from his brother. Lan Wangji, of course, stayed stoic as always.

Damn the man.

It took some manoeuvring, but they finally managed to find a corner of the market behind the stall of a dozing vegetable merchant where they wouldn’t be overheard.

“So, what are we going to do with him? Because I’m stating now, kill… eh, that thing we were planning earlier isn’t an option anymore,” he started the discussion by laying down the new ground rules. That had been a timely last minute save too, considering the boy, no longer distracted by the other marketgoers, was now listening to them like a hawk.

Wei Wuxian rubbed the back of his neck, the same way he always did when he was considering what to do. “Eh, I agree, but we can’t exactly take him with us…”

He was interrupted when the kid made a violent attempt at regaining his freedom, almost managing to twist out of Jiang Wanyin’s grip.

“What… will you hold still?”

“Why should I? Let me go!” He stared up at Jiang Wanyin with a mulish expression. With his dark hair and big eyes, he almost reminded him of Jin Ling at that age – only that he’d have thrown Jin Ling head-first into the lake long before he’d ever have allowed him to get this dirty.

“What, so you can go steal some more? For the last time, we’re not going to hurt you!” Even as he said it, Jiang Wanyin supposed that under the circumstances, the kid probably had less than no reason to believe him.

Wasn’t that a depressing thought.

The kid stuck out his lower lip even further. “Prove it!”

Jiang Wanyin would have thrown his arms up in the air in exasperation if they hadn’t been full of belligerent nine-year-old. “How?”

Letting go of his death-grip on Jiang Wanyin’s arm, the kid pointed across the street to the stall opposite the vegetable merchant’s they were hiding behind. “Buy me some candy.”

“Buy you…”

“Do it!”

Rather than get into a staring contest with the kid, Jiang Wanyin set him on his own two feet for the first time since they had left the alleyway. “We’ll be back in a bit,” he informed his companions, making sure he had a good grip on Xue Yang’s upper arm as he led him across the street to the sweet vendor there.

Surprisingly, the boy stumbled after him with absolutely no resistance – in fact, he seemed a bit dumbstruck, staring at the colourful display once they arrived.

When he still hadn’t uttered a word by the time the young woman behind the various boxes started giving them strange looks (oh, so that’s what it took in this town…), Jiang Wanyin sighed exasperatedly. “So, what would you like?” he asked, hoping to jump-start the process.

Xue Yang blinked up at him with big eyes (if he hadn’t been so dirty, he might even have looked cute). “I can choose? You’re really going to buy some?”

“I said so, didn’t I?” Was the boy trying to irritate him?

The kid blinked again, a small smile blooming on his face – the first Jiang Wanyin had seen – as he speedily started picking out flavours, almost as if he were still afraid Jiang Wanyin was going to go back on his word.

Once that was done, Jiang Wanyin led the now compliant child back to the others. When they arrived, Wei Wuxian had a weirdly soft look in his eyes. Jiang Wanyin quickly chased it away by hitting his brother in the shoulder.

“So, once more, what are we going to do?” he demanded, watching as the boy settled down against the wooden wall of the stall behind them, happily pressing the small bag of sweets to his chest and munching away seemingly oblivious to what the adults were doing.

“Lan Wangji and I were talking about it while you were gone,” his brother began, and Jiang Wanyin snorted – how much actual talking on Lan Wangji’s part had been involved was probably debatable –, “and the only thing we can do right now is take him with us. We don’t know anyone here we can leave him with.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji agreed.

Jiang Wanyin frowned, wanting to disagree, but they were right – they couldn’t leave the boy here. For one, clearly nobody in this town cared a whit about him. That was no way for a child to live. “We’ll have to leave him with the Juniors,” he concluded, since that was clearly the only choice left – there was no way he could join Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, and himself on their planned itinerary.

Wei Wuxian nodded. “Yes, that’s what we came up with too. We still have a couple of days to decide what to do with him, we’ll think of something for sure!”

Jiang Wanyin frowned even harder at his brother’s – in his experience – often unwarranted optimism, but before he could express any misgivings, a small hand grabbed his, a small face staring up at him to go with it.

“More!” Xue Yang demanded.

“What, you’re done already?” Jiang Wanyin stared at the deflated bag, too aghast at the boy’s speed to even be annoyed.

The kid nodded. “Uh-huh. And if you want me to stay, I want more!”

Thankfully, Jiang Wanyin hadn’t raised his nephew for nothing – he knew exactly how to deal with this.

“Then let’s get you some more,” he said, taking the boy’s now grimy and sticky hand in his and stepping across to the sweet vendor again.

This time, once the boy was done picking out what he wanted, Jiang Wanyin bought an even bigger bag for later use – a bit of bribing had always worked wonders with Jin Ling, after all. Then, he took another look at the boy – thin as a scarecrow but beaming down at his new bag of treats happily with a gap-toothed smile – and decided it was time for a proper meal as well. Or at least, a meal that didn’t consist of sweets and, if he had to guess, leftovers fished out of the trash.

“We’re all going for lunch,” he informed the others as he and the boy stepped back behind the vegetable merchant’s stall, magnanimously ignoring the fact that his brother and brother-in-law had been in the process of making out (really, how sound was that vegetable merchant’s sleep?).

By now, the boy followed him without showing any fear at all, and if Jiang Wanyin insisted on stopping on the way to the inn to buy the kid new clothes – well, they were already in the market, after all, and they could hardly enter the inn looking like they had kidnapped a homeless boy. Even if that was, essentially, what he’d done.

Next, they made a stop by the toy stall. Everybody knew you had to keep children occupied during travel, otherwise they would drive you insane. Jiang Cheng had no difficulty at all recalling how A-Ling had perfected the ability to accurately pinpoint his last nerve during travel by the time he was five – the phrase “are we there yet” still sent shivers up his spine.

There was absolutely no call for his brother to start laughing obnoxiously when he started steering them towards a vendor selling boots (if they were going to travel together, the boy needed the essentials, didn’t he?), which was why Jiang Wanyin hit him in the shoulder again to shut him up (how could a human being even produce that sound?).

Which, of course, meant he had to dance out of the way as Lan Wangji swooped in, ready to defend his husband. Jiang Wanyin subsequently almost ended up in a heap of melons jutting out into street from a fruit stall.

Which Xue Yang, in turn, found extremely amusing.

At least the kid’s laughter didn’t sound like a dying donkey.

Chapter Text

The Charmed Traveller stood out from the drab buildings bordering it on either side, with its carefully painted wooden ornamentation, the colourful curtains veiling several floor-length carved doors, and, of course, the ubiquitous red lanterns announcing its services to passers-by. Jin Ling had never been to a brothel, nor had any of his companions, and it was less loud than he’d thought it would be (based on what he’d heard accidentally walking by Hanguang-Jun’s and Wei-qianbei’s quarters), but even with the lanterns unlit it was just about as gaudy as he’d imagined such a place to be.

It looked nothing like the respectable place of worship that had stood in this spot when Jin Ling had last been here. For one, it was much smaller. Guanyin Temple had taken up at least half of that side of the street, and probably the buildings that now bordered on it from behind besides.

Now that he thought about it, having it built had probably taken quite a dent out of the Jin Sect treasury. Jin Ling made a mental note to check the books as soon as he got back home – he’d always known one could get away with quite a lot as a sect leader (apparently, when one was Jin Guangyao, also with murder, though he honestly tried to think about that as little as possible), but it would be rather convenient to know details.

Naturally, since there wasn’t any temple yet, there also wasn’t any giant statue, head towering over that part of Yunping City as a constant reminder to its citizens to practice their piety. And no, he’d definitely not gotten lost trying to navigate here without that distinct landmark to look for, despite what Jingyi claimed.

Besides, a brisk walk in the early morning was supposed to be good for one’s health, wasn’t it?

Either way, despite talking a rather roundabout route, they’d gotten there eventually, and mid-morning found the Juniors clustered around each other on the other side of the street from the Charming Traveller, sharing some vegetable skewers they’d bought at a nearby food stall in a bid to look like they had a reason to be there. Not that Jin Ling had much of an appetite – his shushu could show up at any moment! –, but at least the enforced silence (sometimes, those stupid Lan rules were good for something after all) gave him time to order his thoughts.

The problem was, he just didn’t know what to do. He’d known his shushu had grown up in a brothel, of course. Not because he’d been told but because Koi Tower, no matter what else you could say about it (his jiujiu, for example, was quite fond of calling it a snake pit when he thought Jin Ling was out of earshot, and sometimes when he was in earshot as well) was definitely a place where gossip flourished. Even if – and now that Jin Ling was old enough to get what his jiujiu was talking about, especially if – that gossip were to happen around the young Jin heir and paint the then-current Jin Sect Leader in a less-than-flattering light.

Which clearly didn’t say good things about the intelligence of some members of the Jin Sect – at that time, shushu had been his favourite person right after jiujiu.

Prompted by one such occasions, six-year-old Jin Ling had innocently asked his second-favourite uncle what a “prostitute” was. He hadn’t received an answer, but he’d never seen those particular courtly gossipers again, and the rumours – at least the more explicit rumours about Jin Guangyao’s past – had dried up.

Jin Ling had racked his brain trying to remember the things they’d said later, tied up in Guanyin temple with nothing better to do, when he was old enough to understand them, though he was almost certain that there was a lot he’d never heard at all.

None of that helped him now. His dead shushu was possibly right across the street, and despite the fact that Jin Ling knew he’d acted like he had it all figured out in front of the others, now that he was here, all his half-baked plans had fled right out of his head. He wasn’t quite sure yet how he felt about shushu after all the things he’d learned the other man had done, but it had been easy to stuff all that away when shushu had been dead anyway.

It seemed like quite a different matter now.

It didn’t help that he was fairly sure jiujiu didn’t exactly expect him to do anything yet – though to be fair, it had been difficult to tell, considering that jiujiu had been as distracted as Jin Ling had ever seen him once they’d reached the general area of Lotus Pier. But he couldn’t just stand around here and do nothing!

“You think Jin Guangyao is in there right now?”, Jingyi asked, ripping Jin Ling out of his musings. The other boy wiped his hands on a napkin Sizhui had produced from out of nowhere (how did he always manage to be so prepared?) and directed a sceptical look at the building on the opposite side of the cobbled street.

“It would be Meng Yao still, wouldn’t it?” Sizhui was collecting their empty skewers, probably to dispose of in some Lan-mandated manner. If it was left up to Jin Ling, he’d have simply tossed them in the gutter; it wasn’t like the street was particularly clean. Also, he had other things to worry about – all this small talk was going to drive him insane! Sure, jiujiu had probably only meant for them to do some reconnaissance, but he was here, and it was his shushu not anybody else’s, and he only had twelve days and the firm conviction that he wouldn’t let his shushu walk down the same dark path again.

He’d ask for forgiveness later, he decided. Or better yet, he wouldn’t ask for forgiveness at all. Who’d ever heard of a sect leader asking for forgiveness anyway?

Jin Ling swallowed his doubts, as well as the last of the grilled pepper he’d been chewing on. “Well, why are you still standing here and talking instead of doing something? Let’s go find him!”

Without waiting for an answer, he stormed off, telling himself that it wasn’t like putting off dealing with this even longer was going to help. Besides, if he weren’t to go now, he’d lose his nerve.

Not that he’d ever let anybody know that.

Before he had a chance to regret his decision, he was already across the street. One of the others – Zizhen, he thought – called out to him, but he ignored them and started up the three wooden steps leading to the front door, soft thumps behind him telling him the others were following. The double door was open and empty, a pulled-back gauzy curtain shifting in the slight breeze, leading into the dark interior.

Jin Ling swallowed but knew he couldn’t stop there. Really, he didn’t see what the big deal was anyway! It was just a building, and if his shushu was here, so what? He’d walked into plenty of buildings containing his shushu in the past!

One of the unlit lanterns creaked where it swung in the breeze right next to his face. From what little he could see, the inside of the building looked almost like that of a perfectly normal teahouse, if completely empty, except that there seemed to be an abundance of pillows. Certainly nothing to warrant the trepidation bubbling up in his stomach.

Certainly no shushu anywhere.

He stepped over the threshold. There still wasn’t much light, but he could see a staircase twisting up to the second storey, and to the left of it a little alcove meant for the waiters, and beyond that a half-open door that seemed to lead outside; most of the light was coming from there. Now where to start looking first…

“Ahem! Looking for something, young masters?”

Jin Ling turned around (he did not shriek, regardless of what Jingyi claimed latter), but before he could catch his breath (okay, maybe he’d been a bit surprised), Sizhui, the first of the four of them to recover, spoke.

“My apologies. We didn’t realise there was somebody here.”

Now that Jin Ling looked, there was an old, frail-looking woman in once-expensive robes that had clearly seen better days sitting on a small stool, her chin and hands resting on a walking stick, tucked behind one of the curtains next to the doorway. Almost as if she’d hidden herself away on purpose. Before Jin Ling could express his annoyance at being tricked (because really, what else could you call that!), she spoke again.

“I see. And that is excuse enough for you to invade my house?”

“If you don’t want people coming in, maybe don’t leave the door open!” Before Jin Ling could finish speaking, he felt the tell-tale sting of an elbow in his side. He immediately shot Zizhen a sharp look, but the other boy was – very pointedly, in Jin Ling’s opinion – looking off to the side.

The old woman tutted. “This isn’t the first time a couple of young gentlemen have tried to sneak in here, but I have to say few have made as blatant an attempt as you.”

Jin Ling felt the heat rise in his face (from anger, it was definitely from anger!) - how dare this woman imply any such thing!

He started spluttering, but before he could give the woman a piece of his mind, Sizhui had stepped in front of him as if he’d known what was about to happen.

“My apologies again, that was not our intent. We are here looking for a friend.”

The old woman gave all of them a wry look. “I am sure. Would that be a friend of the sort willing to grant a few, let us call them, special favours?” Sizhui shot up out of the bow he’d sunken into so fast he almost knocked against Jingyi, a flush rapidly spreading over his face to rival Jin Ling’s.

Not that the remaining two fared any better in that department.

Naturally, they practically fell over themselves in their eagerness to deny the allegation.

“No, we…”

“That’s not…

“…can’t just…”

“…dare you say something like that?”

That last one was Jing Ling himself. This woman had some nerve, did she not realise who he was?

Before any of them could achieve an intelligible level of coherency, the woman jumped up. The part of Jin Ling’s mind that wasn’t busy being either mortified or terrified (he hadn’t quite settled on one or the other yet) noted that she suddenly seeming much less frail. “How dare me? Young people truly have no respect for the elderly anymore!”

Something collided with Jin Ling’s behind, and he jumped in surprise. Had she just walloped him with her walking stick?

“You can’t do that!” He cried indignantly, rubbing the offended body part, his dignity as a sect leader completely forgotten.

“And if I can! You’ll wait until we’re open, like everyone else, and then you’ll pay like every other customer too!”

“But we…”

“No buts! Now go before I call my grandsons here to give you all a lesson!” She jabbed at them with her walking stick in an attempt to banish them from the porch. Zizhen, by virtue of standing closest to Jin Ling, had apparently also received a taste of the walking aid and was looking comically betrayed.

Jin Ling wasn’t having any of it.

“Now listen here…”

“Come on, Jin Ling, let’s do what the nice lady says…” Jingyi’s voice was suddenly in his ear (him of all people!), and someone’s hand was on his arm, leading him back down the steps of the Charmed Traveller back to the cobblestoned street.

Behind him, he could hear the old woman grumble to herself as she returned to her seat in the shade. “Rich kids nowadays, more money than sense…”

“I’m sure we can take her grandsons!” Jin Ling hissed as soon as the others let him go, a couple of houses down.

“Probably. But how is that going to help us with Lianfang-Zun?”

“You think he likes that old hag?”

“That’s not very nice of you.”

“Shh, I think she’s looking over here!”

At Zizhen’s whispered words, the four Juniors turned in unison. Indeed, the old woman was craning her neck around the curtain, still motioning at them to be gone with her walking stick. Jin Ling could feel Zizhen’s fist in his robes, clenching the expensive golden-hued material. “She sure is scary…”

“Pah, she’s probably annoyed that there’s someone who won’t let her boss them around! Some people just are like that.” If she’d only let them in, they could be done here already!

Jingyi snorted. “Yeah, some people…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Before a full-blown argument could develop, Sizhui spoke up. “I think we should leave here for now. There’s nothing we can do at the moment, and I doubt she’s going to change her mind.”

For lack of a counterargument – and also because the watermelon salesman at the corner was starting to look at them strangely –, they began walking down the street further away from The Charming Traveller, Zizhen continuing to cast suspicious looks over his shoulder from time to time.

Good. He’d inform Jin Ling of any worthwhile developments.

At the end of the road, Zizhen finally gave up and turned to the rest of them. “When do brothels even open?”

“How should I know?”

“Didn’t she say something about having to pay?”

“Idiot! We’re not here to, umm,” Jin Ling could feel himself starting to blush once more, and he didn’t like it, “well, you know. Why shouldn’t they let us talk to shushu?”

“But what if he really wants to come with us? They’re probably not just going to let him go…” Uggh, there was Sizhui again, talking sense!

“You mean we’ve got to buy him? I’m not buying my own xiao-shushu!” The words alone made Jin Ling feel like he needed a bath!

“Shh, people are going to hear us!” Zizhen hissed, not quite surreptitiously pointing at the watermelon salesmen who had crossed the street to talk to the owner of the fan shop opposite.

Both of whom were now looking at them. It seemed people in the past had no shame!

“Well, I’m not!” Jin Ling declared loudly, just to show he wouldn’t be intimidated.

Zizhen hid face in his hands.

“Do we even have enough money? I think I spent my last earlier on the skewers…” Jingyi was up to his elbow in his qiankun pouch, digging around, but when his hand surfaced there were only a few measly coins in it. Sizhui and Zizhen pulled out their own purses.

Jin Ling, of course, had no actual cash on hand. He never had – why would he, when wherever he went, he could just send a servant around to make any required payments later? After all, he was the leader of the richest sect in the cultivation world, his word was entirely good enough!

Somehow, he didn’t think that would work here.

It didn’t take long for them to collect all their coins in a handkerchief Sizhui was holding out (seriously, where did he pull them from?), mainly because there weren’t a lot of coins to collect. Jin Ling had no idea what the going rate for a teenager in a brothel was, but whatever it was, it had to be more than this.

“Umm, I don’t think the old lady is going to be satisfied with that…“ Jingyi said what they were all thinking.

“Well, she’s going to have to be,” Jin Ling snapped, embarrassment that he hadn’t been able to contribute making it sound sharper than he’d meant to. Not that he was going to admit that.

“There’s got to be some way we can make money… maybe there’s somebody around here who’ll pay us for a night hunt?” Having divided the coins back up, Zizhen looked around them almost as if he expected potential applicants to jump out of a side street at any moment.

“That’ll take much too long!”

They were all quiet for a moment, pondering the problem.

“I’ve got it! We could put on a swordplay show. I once saw a travelling troupe do that during festival season, and people gave them loads of coins!”

Jin Ling looked at his friend in horror – only Jingyi could come up with something like that!

“No way!”

“Oh come, they looked really impressive! I bet we could do better, though.”

“Wouldn’t we have to come up with some sort of routine first, though?” Zizhen looked thoughtful, as if he were actually contemplating the idea.

Horrified, Jin Ling shot it down a second time. “I’m not doing a show routine!”

“It would also draw too much attention,” Sizhui interrupted the brewing argument.

“See! He’s on my side.” Jin Ling shot Jingyi a triumphant look.

“…we still need to get at money somehow, though,” the older Lan continued almost immediately, taking the wind out of Jin Ling’s sails once again.

“Let’s all take a moment to think about this…” Zizhen, ever the peacemaker, suggested.

Jingyi nodded. “It’s almost lunch time, isn’t it? Maybe we’ll have an idea while we eat…”

“We just had breakfast!” How big was Jingyi’s stomach anyway?

“Hey, I think better when I’m not hungry!”

They ended up having lunch in one of the actual tea houses in the better part of town, having decided the cost wouldn’t make much of a difference. By the time they were finished with their meal, despite their full stomachs, they still hadn’t come up with any good ideas. Despairing that they’d ever figure this out, Jin Ling let himself slump against the wall behind him (after all, nobody was here to remind him to always keep proper posture. Sizhui didn’t count).

Ouch!

Jin Ling shot back up, fingering the painful spot on the back of his head. Once again, the Jin Sect Leader’s headpiece had collided with the wall, driving the sharp points of the golden monstrosity into his skull. Uggh, it had been over half a year now and he still hadn’t gotten used to it!

Wait…

Excited, Jin Ling sat up.

“Everybody, I think I have an idea!”

The Charmed Traveller looked very different in the afternoon than it had in the morning. It was still much more colourful than the buildings on either side, that much was true, but now that the red lanterns had all been lit and music drifted out from the front hall through the pink curtains slowly wafting in the breeze, it seemed inviting rather than gaudy, as if it had woken up from its slumber and was beckoning them in. The floor-length windows were all open, and through them the four junior cultivators could see that the evening’s festivities had already begun despite the fact that the sun hadn’t yet finished its descent downwards.

As before, the Juniors stood on the pavement on the other side at the street, looking across at the place where Guanyin temple had once stood (was that the correct way to put it? Time travel was confusing!). Unlike before, Jin Ling’s head was much lighter, while his coin pouch was much heavier. It had taken them the better part of the day to find a goldsmith willing to take Jin Ling’s headpiece off their hands – or rather, off his head – for a reasonable price without asking too many questions they couldn’t, or wouldn’t, answer.

Jin Ling tried not to miss it. Anyway, if he gained shushu from it, it would have been worth it. It wasn’t like the headpiece had been a priceless heirloom.

Well, okay, it had been, but he was rich, he could just commission a new one!

While he was still futilely trying to convince himself of that, Zizhen pushed up behind him, craning his head over Jin Ling’s shoulder. “Can you see her?”

“See who?”

“The old woman of course! She’ll have to let us in now, won’t she? That goldsmith gave us an awful lot of money…”

“Obviously she’ll let us in! Now come on, xiao shushu has to be here somewhere…”

Slowly, they made their way up the stairs again. Fortunately, the old woman wasn’t at her post (not that Jin Ling cared, but the others might), so they managed to enter without being accosted this time.

Inside, the Charming Traveller was even more lively than it had seemed from the outside. Now that brightly lit lamps chased away the shadows that had hung over the place before, Jin Ling could see that most of the back of the room was actually a stage. On it, a man, wearing nothing but a pair of trousers, was playing the pipa while two scantily clad young women danced alluringly.

Jin Ling quickly averted his eyes to scan the rest of the room for his shushu.

Unfortunately, his shushu was nowhere to be seen, though there were an awful lot of women with their skirts tucked up far past where it was proper, and even some young men with the collar of their robes gaping indecently open and showing off that they wore nothing underneath.

Suddenly, Jin Ling wished he’d paid a lot more attention to those rumours years ago. As it was, he had barely any idea what to expect. He almost wished that jiujiu hadn’t been so distracted by thoughts of the current time’s Lotus Pier that he’d let his nephew go off to a brothel with barely any questions asked (though to be honest, it had been pretty funny when jiujiu had burned half their dinner because he’d been far too busy staring into the middle distance to pay any attention to the fire).

Jin Ling just hoped that Meng Yao would turn out to be properly clothed whenever they found him.

“Anybody see him yet?”, Jingyi whispered, which was still as loud as most people’s normal volume. At least that served to pull Jin Ling out of the pit of near-panic he’d fallen into.

“No.” In front of Jin Ling, two pretty girls around his age were taking turns feeding an old man in expensive robes pieces of candied fruit from a platter.

“Maybe we should try upstairs next?” Despite his confident words, Sizhui looked quite out of his depth.

“We could just ask,” Zizhen said, having finally managed to rip his gaze from the dancers.

Jin Ling whipped around. “And you think they’re going to tell us?”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“Well, for starters, I…” Jin Ling went quiet as he suddenly felt a hand wrap around his arm.

A slender, manicured hand that, when he followed it up to its owner, turned out to belong to one of the scandalously attired girls who he’d seen fawning over the old man a moment ago.

“Young master, is there really a need to make such a ruckus in this lovely place? I’m sure I can come up with something that will calm you if you let me…” Her voice was honey-sweet, her hand wandering further up his arm as she spoke, then brushing down the front of his chest. Jin Ling pulled away, reflexively righting the collar of his robes. As he did so, he noticed that on the other side of their little group, another girl was initiating a conversation with Sizhui and Jingyi. Zizhen meanwhile was blushing furiously, clearly trying hard not to look at either girl too closely.

“No way! That’s –“ Oh, that had come out higher than he’d intended, hadn’t it? Jin Ling swallowed and tried again. “I mean, that won’t be necessary. We’re just here looking for a friend.”

The girl had withdrawn her hand and was now twirling a strand of hair that had come lose from her elaborate hairdo around one finger coquettishly. Jin Ling found he could hardly look away.

“Are you sure? Because I’m certain I could be an excellent – friend.” Her smile stretched even wider. Jin Ling gulped and nodded hurriedly.

Maybe he should just stop using that word altogether.

“Yes, really quite sure. His name is Meng Yao. The friend’s name, I mean. The one we’re looking for.” What was wrong with him? He hadn’t been this tongue-tied since the first time he’d had to chair a meeting as sect leader! Jiujiu would have his hide if he saw him like this.

The girl’s demeanour instantly grew colder, her voice losing its honeyed quality and her hand dropping from her hair to her side. “Well, if that’s your preference, you’re better off choosing somebody else. Meng Shi might be a washed-up has-been, but she’s still got enough clout around here to keep her son from doing proper work. They both think they’re better than us, see.”

What? Who was – of course, shushu’s mother! How could he have forgotten about her? He faintly remembered hearing that she’d died when shushu was still fairly young – that must not have happened yet.

Well, it wasn’t going to happen if he had anything to do with it!

Jin Ling felt his neck muscles stiffened almost of their own accord. “How dare you talk about his mother like that!” After all, she was practically a member of Jin Ling’s family!

The girl, oblivious to the source of her conversation partner’s anger, merely scoffed. “It’s not like she’s going to be around for much longer, and then he’ll see where that attitude gets him.”

Jin Ling’s jaw dropped open at the girl’s audacity, and he closed it with a snap. “You take that back!”

He immediately cursed himself – definitely not the most dignified answer!

Before he could think of a better retort – or even start to get his indignation under control, not that he felt particularly obliged to – there was a sudden sharp intake of breath next to him. Jin Ling glanced at Zizhen, anger momentarily forgotten, but his friend wasn’t looking at him, eyes instead fixed on something over his shoulder. “Have you found…” Jin Ling started to ask about his shushu, but then he saw it too – the old woman had appeared at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the second level.

She was holding court with some of the establishment’s patrons, dressed much better than she’d been this morning, and the last thing Jin Ling wanted to do was to have to deal with her again.

The rude girl Jin Ling had been talking to was saying something, but Jin Ling didn’t pay her any attention. Instead, his and Zizhen’s eyes met, and as one they turned, each grabbing one of the Lan juniors, and started making a beeline for the back of the room. They managed to make it all the way past the stage – a quick look back confirmed that the old woman hadn’t noticed them yet, though the two girls they’d left standing in the middle of the room were looking rather confused, not that Jin Ling cared – and through the backdoor into what turned out to be a courtyard.

“Where are we running?” Sizhui asked conversationally, but he seemed content to follow, and that was really all that Jin Ling required of him at the moment. Once he judged that they were far enough from the door leading back inside, Jin Ling came to a halt and let go of his friends’ sleeve.

“Forget that – why are we running?” Jingyi demanded much more forcefully, managing to stop just in time when Zizhen almost pushed him into a railing running along the walkway around the outer part of the courtyard. Within, there was a small garden and a pond, though thankfully, they were alone as far as Jin Ling could determine. Above them, the second storey of the building rose.

“The old woman showed up,” Zizhen answered, voice muffled by the fact that he was still turned around, checking whether anybody had followed them. Fortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case.

“So what – you got scared?”

Jin Ling bristled. “Of course I’m not scared!”

Between the look Jingyi shot him and the fact that even Sizhui didn’t look convinced, Jin Ling had the sudden desire to explain further. “We’re just… we decided it would make more sense to look for shushu ourselves than to keep asking people! It’s not like anybody in there was going to be helpful.” Remembering the awful things that girl had said, that was absolutely the truth!

Besides, he definitely wasn’t scared of a little old lady.

“Sure…” Jingyi snorted.

“So what are we going to do now?” Sizhui asked, apparently ready to move on, and Jin Ling had rarely been so grateful for his friends’ equanimity.

Feeling safe from pursuers, they turned to face the courtyard fully. Now that his eyes had had time to adjust, Jin Ling noticed a staircase leading to the upper storey in one of the corners.

“Shushu has to be here somewhere…” he muttered, looking at all the doors leading back into the building on both levels. It almost looked like an inn.

“Well, we can’t just go checking every door…”

Jin Ling stilled and looked at Sizhui, who looked back in dawning horror. “You can’t, though!”

“Why not?”

Ignoring his friend’s objections, Jin Ling went straight to the next door and ripped it open.

Then immediately shut it again.

He really hadn’t meant to see that, it turned out. Maybe Sizhui had it right, after all, Jin Ling thought as he tried to blink the afterimages away.

For a moment, everything was quiet.

“So what…” Jingyi started, but suddenly the door behind Jin Ling burst open again. A half-dressed, balding man stormed out, gaze zeroing in on them.

“You! How dare you interrupt me!”

“…I think we should leave…” Jin Ling wasn’t even sure who’d spoken, but suddenly, they were running once more, cutting through the garden and up the stairs to the second storey faster than the other man could follow without losing the remaining items of his clothing.

“What are we going to do now?” Zizhen asked once they’d reached the top.

Sizhui spotted it first – a door that looked much plainer than the others, doorframe unpainted and with no lantern above it.

On second thought, maybe that should have been a giveaway earlier.

Either way, there was no time to waste.

“Quick, come on!” Sizhui called, opening the door as thumps on the staircase behind them announced that the angry patron had managed to right himself enough to come after them.

There was a frantic dash inside. It was impossible to tell who it was, but someone stumbled, and they ended up tumbling in, one on top of the other, flailing limbs going everywhere.

At least the last one through had managed to close the door.

There was a moment where nobody dared to move, four pairs of eyes trained on the door, hoping they’d been quick enough.

Outside, the patron had finished his stomp up the stairs. Cursing, he stomped around on the upper level as well, then gave up and went back down again.

The Juniors let out a collective breath of relief.

“Excuse me, what are you doing here?”

Jin Ling reared back so fast the back of his head collided with Jingyi’s chin. The incident sparked a new round of chaos, but once they’d finally removed all of their collective knees and elbows from each other’s livers and ribcages, they found themselves in some sort of laundry room, light dim and damp sheets hanging everywhere.

And they weren’t alone.

Well, Jin Ling mused, valiantly trying to ignore the way his stomach was suddenly tying itself into knots, at least they’d finally found his shushu.

Chapter Text

Meng Shi, Jin Ling decided before the tea had even finished brewing, was just as shrewd as her son. He definitely hadn’t missed the look mother and son had exchanged at the sight of his golden robes; it almost made him glad he’d parted with his official headpiece earlier – there was no way they would have missed that.

She looked like her son too, pretty as porcelain, only even more delicate. Her frail appearance was belied by the firmness with which she’d complimented them into the little room his shushu – and he didn’t think he’d ever get used to referring to a boy possibly younger than himself as that, even in his head – had led them to. It was much shabbier than anything Jin Ling had ever pictured him in, the furniture old and chipped and the bed curtains draped in a way that didn’t quite hide that at one point, moths had been at them, but it was tidy and clean. The tea set they were served with was matching off-white with artfully painted little blue flowers that showed its quality. Calligraphy had been hung from the walls in an attempt to give the room an air of sophistication, though Jin Ling could tell from the handwriting that most pieces were his shushu’s work.

He and the others were crammed onto a bench and two mismatched footstools in the corner of the room opposite the door, most of which had been fetched by Meng Yao under his mother’s orders earlier. Until he’d returned, they’d been forced to stand awkwardly in the tiny room while a bowing Meng Shi apologized profusely for the inconvenience and inquired which kind of tea they preferred. Jin Ling had mostly filled that time with wondering about the proper way to acknowledge your relationship with your formerly bastard uncle’s mother who worked in a brothel. Considering what he knew of Jin Guangshan (and what more he suspected, given that he was now quite sure jiujiu and shushu had worked together to shelter him from the worst of his grandfather’s misdeeds), he was somewhat surprised to realise the question had never come up before.

Now that they had some chairs, at least they could be embarrassed sitting down. He probably wasn’t hiding that feeling as well as he should, considering he’d already managed to drain his entire cup in the short time since she’d poured it the first time.

As if she’d read his thoughts, the woman in question reached for the teapot. “We really are most honoured by your visit. More tea?”

“Yes, that is… most kind”. Internally, Jin Ling berated himself for stammering – he had definitely been taught better than that! – but now that he was actually face to face with his shushu’s not-so-dead mother, he had no idea how to proceed.

The others were no help either. Sizhui and Jingyi had reverted to their Lan upbringing, sitting side by side on the bench, presenting perfect pictures of Lan stoicism (Jingyi had assured him in the past that he was capable of that if he really tried, but it was still odd to witness) while slowly sipping their tea. Zizhen was holding his cup in a death grip, eyes going back and forth between Meng Shi and her son.

Clearly, they were waiting for his lead on how to proceed. Not that he could blame them for that.

Jin Ling was just about to open his mouth to say something – what, he wasn’t sure, possibly something about the weather? Shushu had always said that was a fairly neutral topic, and thanks to his being brought up partly in Yunmeng, Jin Ling knew a lot about the climate in the area.

Before he could go through with it and embarrass himself further by initiating a conversation on something as inane as the severity of the spring rains this year, Meng Shi, finished with her tea resupply efforts, turned to her son. “A-Yao, why don’t you run down to the kitchens and get something sweet for our guests? I’m sure they have a long journey behind them.”

Jin Ling’s gaze flickered to Meng Yao, who in his shabby but well-kept robes (that seemed to be a theme here) looked nothing like the future Jin Guangyao, who’d quite enjoyed dressing in as ostentatious a way as possible. Jin Ling had seen his clothing expenses while going through his ledgers after his death, and they’d been quite sizeable – which, of course, was quite in tune with the image the Jin Sect wanted to project to the outside world.

Mother and son exchanged another look, and then the door closed behind Meng Yao and the two of them were alone.

Well, the five of them were alone, but as he’d expected, the others were still as about much help as lumps of gold. On second thought, those might actually have been more help.

Jin Ling opened his mouth in a second attempt at conversation – maybe crop cycles were a better topic? –, but Meng Shi pre-empted him once again, her small frame straightening and shedding some of the deference she’d shown until then.

“Now, who are you really and what are you doing here?” Her eyes had a gleam in them that Jin Ling knew intimately – it was the same look his shushu had always had when dealing with a particularly troublesome delegation from another clan and trying to decide how to best wrap them around his little finger. Maybe all those hours he’d spent silently in the back of the audience hall, forced to listen and observe by his teachers while bored almost out of his mind, hadn’t been wasted after all – Jin Ling doubted many others could even tell something was amiss from that smooth face, nevermind what it meant.

Jin Ling, however, knew, and did his best not to gulp. Meng Shi had certainly recovered from the shock she’d sustained having a Jin delegation suddenly show up on her doorstep.

Then he remembered that he was required to answer.

“What do you mean? I am Jin Zilan, I told you!” If it came out a bit less courteous than it should have – well, he was just glad he’d remembered to use the correct generation name at the last second. At least the fact that the Jin branch family members numbered in the dozens and it was almost impossible to keep them all apart when you were a part of it, much less from the outside, helped him here.

Meng Shi gave him an indulgent smile, which, while very pretty (she really was exceptionally beautiful underneath her obvious frailty), was almost a bit patronising.

“Jin Zilan, you must forgive me for not believing you are only here for a casual visit, after all I and my son have heard nothing from his father’s family all his life… especially considering that you are quite an eclectic group.” From anyone else, that would have sounded like an insult, but coming from her it seemed to be no worse than a casual observation. She ran her eyes over all of them – Jin Ling supposed the Lan and Ouyang robes didn’t help. Her eyes lingered on Jin Ling last, taking in his golden robes of the finest quality Koi Tower could buy, which naturally made it the finest quality to be had in the cultivation world. At least he didn’t have to worry about her thinking him an imposter.

“So, I ask again – why are you here?” She smiled again, and her cheeks dimpled in exactly the same way as her son’s; for a moment the resemblance was so strong Jin Ling had to blink away the afterimage of his shushu’s face superimposed over hers. Where was he anyway? It couldn’t take all that long to get some snacks!

He took a sip of tea to win some time – an extremely useful tactic jiujiu had taught him –, but unfortunately, when he put down the cup, she was still dimpling at him expectantly.

“We’re here… we’re here to look at one of the shrines in, umm...” What had Sizhui’s cover story been again? If only Jin Ling hadn’t been too stunned at finally finding his shushu to remember!

While he was trying to get his brain to cooperate, Meng Shi gave him a look that made Jin Ling feel as if he was nine years old again and had recently broken a vase in his shushu’s office trying to prove his barely developed archery skills.

That hadn’t been a particularly comfortable experience either.

Zizhen was leaning in from his right, trying to whisper in his ear, but Jin Ling had had enough – he was the Head of the Jin Sect, and he was not going to sit here any longer being made to feel like a child! Clearly, she had something in mind.

“Why do you think we’re here?”

On his other side, there was a spluttering sound – apparently, some of Jingyi’s tea had suddenly gone down the wrong way. Sizhui pounded on his back until it finally decided to reverse direction and proceed to go down the correct path. Jin Ling barely noticed the commotion, too focused as he was on Meng Shi’s face as her nostrils flared just the tiniest bit. If his knowledge of her son’s mannerisms held any worth here, that meant he’d finally said the correct thing.

Meng Shi rested her chin on the perfectly manicured fingers of one hand, though the elegance of the movement was spoiled somewhat by the fact that the hand it belonged to was emaciated rather than slim. “I think – and I mean no disrespect to the good people of Koi Tower, you must believe me on that – that you heard from someone there, a servant perhaps, a sad tale of a washed up courtesan and her son with a close connection to your esteemed Sect Leader, and, desiring a closer connection to said esteemed Sect Leader, decided to try your hand at an attempt of… let us call it reconciliation, yes? Making yourself the celebrated facilitator of said reconciliation, newly in favour, of course. I hope I am not too far off the mark.”

Well, yes, actually she was, but Jin Ling could hardly expect her to guess the truth – sometimes, he wasn’t even sure he quite believed the truth yet. As it was, this was exactly the kind of intrigue one of the more ambitious branch family members was liable to get up to.

Something of that last thought must have shown on his face, for she nodded agreeably and went on. “The only thing I am unsure about is why you have chosen to include your friends in your venture. This meeting should remain rather clandestine for your little scheme to take full effect, no?”

Meng Shi’s wide-eyed expression spoke of innocence, but her eyes were sharp as a hawk’s, and Jin Ling no longer wondered where her son had got his political acumen from. The part of his mind not busy marvelling at that was feverishly trying to concoct a plan out of her words, trying to find a way to use the out he’d been given.

After all, he had been partly raised by Jin Guangyao, he knew how unwrap a thorny situation – at least if his feelings didn’t get the better of him. This admittedly happened quite often, but he’d been working on that since ascending to the peony throne. With mixed success, as the fact that he was in this situation now testified to. Still, he could turn this in his favour…

After taking another careful sip and gaining a few precious moments to solidify his idea – really, he ought to thank jiujiu for that sometime – Jin Ling put the cup down. “That is because you have made one crucial mistake in your theory”, he said, sitting up decisively and ignoring the muted gasps coming from his sides. A foot collided with his shin under the table – from the Lan side, no less! –, but Jin Ling ignored it with the self-assurance of someone who was growing used to telling an entire room of adults, most many years older than him and leaders in their own right, how things were going to be done.

“Oh?” Meng Shi’s eyes went, impossibly, a faint bit wider. Whether the surprise was false or genuine, Jin Ling couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter anyway.

He went on. “You have the wrong generation. It is not the father I am trying to impress but the son.” More gasps from all around, and Jin Ling could practically feel his friends’ gazes burning holes into the sides of his face, but it didn’t matter. He was too far in to back out now.

Maybe that’s why he’d said that in the first place.

Meng Shi’s eyebrows wrinkled attractively for the shortest of moments – genuine surprise this time, Jin Ling was fairly sure – before calm fell over her expression once again like a veil.

“Is that so?”

Jin Ling nodded, trying to hide his swallow of nervousness with the motion.

“We’ve come here directly from the Lan clan’s lectures at the Cloud Recesses, where my… I mean, Jin Zixuan, the Jin Sect Heir”, – and wasn’t it weird to talk about his father this way – “still is. I would be happy to take you to him to make introductions.”

He was, in fact, planning to do no such thing – considering that disastrous meeting not too long ago, that would probably not end well –, but he’d think of something.

Probably.

Hopefully.

A discreet elbow in his side ripped him out of his slightly panic-tinged musings – and honestly, Sizhui was the last person he would have expected that from! – just in time to catch the tail-end of what Meng Shi was saying: “…won’t be easy, unfortunately, I and my son are rather bound to this place by certain obligations. Though I assume you may be able to help with that?”

Jin Ling froze but this time managed to rip himself out of the moment without any physical prompting.

“Of course!” It came out too high the first time, and Jin Ling swallowed and tried again. “Of course. I am sure something can be done about that.” That had been the point of selling his headpiece after all, hadn’t it? Even if the thought of exchanging money for his shushu still made him slightly queasy.

Before Meng Shi could reply, a knock on the door signalled that said shushu had – finally – returned. Maybe they could leave this embarrassing conversation behind them, then? That would be nice.

Jin Ling’s hopes were shattered when the door opened. There was his shushu all right, holding a platter of what looked to be sweet dumplings – Jin Ling still couldn’t believe that he’d once been this young, it was downright creepy!

Still, that alone would have been fine.

Behind his creepily young shushu, however, barely tall enough for her own head to poke over his, stood the creepy old woman they’d been trying to get away from.

Suddenly, Jin Ling wanted very much to be back in the middle of a conversation about buying his own relatives –shushu definitely owed him big time for this.

Beside Jin Lin, Zizhen made an aborted sound of horror.

The old woman shuffled past Meng Yao and used her walking stick to point at the four young men at the table. “You! You’re the ones causing trouble with my customers! Why am I not surprised?”

“Not that stick again!”, Jin Ling heard a mutter from his left, though he couldn’t tell which of the others it had come from.

Zizhen moaned.

Ignoring the tension in the room – apparently another skill her son had inherited from her – Meng Shi bowed low. “Madam Huang, how kind of you to come up here to see me.”

The old woman didn’t seem particularly mollified. “And what are they doing here with you? Too sick to work, but having visitors on the side, are we?”

Meng Yao started forward but stopped immediately when his mother shot him a look. The old woman – Madam Huang, apparently – didn’t seem to have noticed.

Mainly because she was too busy staring daggers at Jin Ling and his friends.

Someone gulped. It might, in fact, have been Jin Ling himself.

Unsurprisingly, Madam Huang completely ignored their discomfort.

“And you! This morning, I catch you trying to sneak in here, and now you’re back and disturbing paying customers!” He walking stick swished through the air wildly in time with her tirade and almost hit Meng Yao, who dove out of the way, spilling some of the dumplings he still held onto the floor.

Manners forgotten, Jin Ling shot up. “That was an accident! And it wouldn’t have happened if you’d let us in in the first place!”

“Oh, so now you think you can come into my house and lecture me?”

“You were lecturing me first! And besides, I… What?“ Jin Ling’s head snapped around to Jingyi, who finally stopped tugging on his sleeve. And then proceeded to ignore him in favour of staring at the old woman, which as far as Jin Ling was concerned was definitely bad form.

She wasn’t that scary, after all.

Before Jin Ling could demand an explanation, Meng Shi bowed once more. Meng Yao was kneeling in front of her, collecting spilled dumplings, which just wasn’t right and made Jin Ling angry all over again.

“Forgive this unworthy one, but the young masters have business with you.”

Wait, what?

The old woman made a face as if she’d bitten into a grapefruit. “And what kind of business would that be?”

Meng Shi bowed even deeper, and Jin Ling suddenly had an inkling of an idea who this woman might be.

“The young masters would like to offer to settle the debts you have so gracefully allowed me and my son to incur.” Meng Shi’s eyes, hidden from Madam Huang’s sight by her raised arms, flashed when they met Jin Ling’s, containing none of the meekness her demeanour suggested.

Jin Ling felt rooted to the spot. This horrible hag couldn’t possibly be…

The horrible hag in question lifted her chin imperiously. “I doubt that they could, even if that were true. If they had that kind of money, I wouldn’t have caught them trying to sneak in, would I?”

Jin Ling almost replied to that – imagine anyone insinuating he was poor! – but caught himself at the last second.

To be fair, the elbow he felt collide with his side the moment he opened his mouth probably helped with that.

By the time he’d finished glaring at Zizhen (was everybody out to get him today?), Madam Huang was done expressing her disbelief to Meng Shi and had shifted her attention to the four of them again.

Jin Ling swallowed and put on his best sect leader face.

“We would be happy to take care of any outstanding accounts Madam Shi has with you.”

His head, adorned solely with Jingyi’s spare headpiece – Jin Ling hadn’t asked –, felt strangely light. In contrast, the pouch full of coins was heavy against his hip.

The haggling began.

If you’d asked Jin Ling later how exactly he’d managed to get his shushu out from underneath that woman’s thumb he couldn’t have told you, but the fact of the matter was that, just as night fully settled in, the four of them finally walked out of the Charmed Traveller victorious.

“So, dinner?”

“Really Jingyi, you’re a bottomless pit!”

“Hey, I’m still growing! Besides, not all of us were so nervous we filled ourselves up with tea!”

“I wasn’t nervous, I was being polite!”

“Sure, if you say so…”

“What are you going to do with that?”

“Huh?” Jin Ling turned to Sizhui, only to find the other boy pointing at the scroll clutched in Jin Ling’s right hand – the deed to both of the Meng’s lives. Jin Ling quickly stuffed it up his sleeve as if he hadn’t spent the entire way down from the converted storeroom Madam Huang claimed was her office feeling as if somebody was going to appear and rip it from his hands at any moment.

He shrugged as unconcernedly as he could manage. “Give it to them, I imagine. Or we could always burn it.”

That would be the safest way to keep it out of other people’s hands… though perhaps he was being a little paranoid. Then again, the memory of the way mother and son had twin dimpled at each other once he’d deposited a good half of the contents of his pouch in Madam Huang’s hands and received the scroll in exchange still twisted something in his stomach.

“Burning sounds good. Hey, anybody else up for shaokao?”

“Jingyi!”

“All I’m saying is…”

Despite the others’ antics, Sizhui didn’t seem ready for the conversation to move on just yet. “We should hand it over to them tomorrow, they deserve to have it.”

“We still need to find a carriage for them, too.” That was Zizhen, from Jin Ling’s other side, and he’d rarely been so grateful for a change of topic.

“We can do that tomorrow. I’m just glad Madam Huang let them stay one last night.” They’d agreed mother and son would officially leave the Charmed Traveller tomorrow and travel on to Caiyi Town. And then… well, Meng Shi clearly expected for her son to be introduced to his half-brother, which meant Jin Ling had about three days to figure out what he was going to do about that.

“Yes, it’s going to be a lot easier to explain all this to Sandu Shengshou without them there.”

The moment the words left Sizhui’s mouth, Jin Ling’s mind came to a screeching halt. Incidentally, Jin Ling’s body came to a screeching halt as well, causing Sizhui, who’d lagged behind, longingly gazing at a vendor’s stall, to run into him. Sizhui tried to help and got pulled in, resulting in a three-boy pileup in the middle of the road. Zizhen gave a startled laugh.

If Jin Ling had been paying attention and not face-down on the floor, he would have been very annoyed indeed.

As it was, Jin Ling barely noticed. He’d been so drunk on his victory and the horror of buying his own relatives that he’d forgotten all about jiujiu – forget trying to figure out what he was going to do when they all arrived at the Cloud Recesses, he had to figure out how to tell jiujiu first!

“What am I going to do?” Jin Ling moaned, still lying in the dirt road while the Lans started picking each other up and Zizhen swallowed the last of his snickers.

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad. He got along with Lianfang-Zun fine before it turned out he was evil, didn’t he?” Zizhen had finally regained control and reached out to Jin Ling.

“He’s going to kill me! For real, this time!” Jin Ling wailed instead of letting Zizhen help him, which would probably have been the more mature approach.

“If he didn’t kill you when you accidentally set his robes on fire trying out that new talisman, he’s not going to now, either.” Zizhen said, still waiting for Jin Ling to take his hand, who finally relented and himself be pulled up.

Behind them, Jingyi stopped brushing down his robes, surprised. “That was an accident?”

Jin Ling didn’t even notice.

“You’re right, he was pretty angry back then…”

“He’s always angry though, isn’t he?” Jin Ling shot Jingyi an angry look, which made him look eerily like his jiujiu. “… no disrespect intended.”

Jin Ling glared a bit more before finally circling back to panic. “What am I going to do?”

The boys stood there in the street for a moment, looking at each other. Finally, Jingyi spoke.

“… so, about that shaokao?”

Miles away and up in the air, Jiang Wanyin sneezed violently, causing him to almost let go of the child inexpertly balancing on Sandu in front of him. Which would have been a shame, considering the amount of work he’d already had to put into preventing Xue Yang from plummeting to his death – surely Jin Ling hadn’t ever been this fidgety, had he?

His travel companions, as expected, had been absolutely no help on that front, unless one counted his brother’s asinine comments whenever the boy managed to somehow get twisted around on the blade trying to follow a passing flock of birds with his eyes, or almost stumble off it trying dig one of his sweets out of a pocket, or slip from it while counting clouds – though he was reasonably sure that that last one had been on purpose to get a rise out of him, judging by the conspiratorial look the boy and Wei Wuxian had exchanged after the latter had stopped laughing.

No, Jiang Wanyin emphatically did not count that as helping.

Fortunately, the lights of Yunping were starting to be visible on the horizon. Now he just had to brace himself for the temper tantrum Jin Ling would throw once he saw Xue Yang…

The Cloud Recesses, the previous day…

It had been an hour since their last encounter with those ridiculous imposters, and Jiang Cheng was about ready to jump out of his skin – or at least out of his robes, which were still muddy all over even after he’d spent a good half-hour trying to brush the dirt off as best he could.

They were supposed to be in class right now, not waiting – again! – for one of the Lan elders to find the time to listen to them tell of their encounter with the annoying imposters, or whatever else they felt they needed to know. He didn’t understand why what felt like every single Lan elder needed to hear their story for himself.

Well, to be fair, it had only been two so far, and it was somewhat true that they’d still been a bit incoherent during the first attempt of relaying what had happened. But still – it rankled that they’d only been believed by the second elder because by then, their Lan golden boy had finally woken up and added his approval to their story. Jin Zixuan, of course, had swanned off like the arrogant peacock he was (or would that be peacocked off? Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure whether a whole new level of description wasn’t required in this case) after the first retelling, muttering something about his time being better spent elsewhere and having to warn his father about the imposter.

Jiang Cheng would have preferred to do the same – without the letter-writing, obviously, there was no need to give his father any ammunition about his unsuitability as an heir by letting him know he’d been bested by his own imposter
–, but for some reason, Wei Wuxian had decided that this was going to be the one day in his entire life he was going to listen to authority.

Sometimes, he wondered if his brother behaved the way he did just to spite him.

As it was, his brother sat on the bench outside the Lan meeting hall as if he’d never even so much as thought of crossing a Lan elder, patiently waiting next to Lan Wangji, who had fully recovered from whatever fit he’d suffered the previous day. At least, that’s what the healers had assured them, so Jiang Cheng definitely didn’t understand why Wei Wuxian thought it was necessary to continue to hold his hand as if he were on death’s door. Not that Wei Wuxian would have had any reason to hold his hand even if he’d been on death’s door, but at least then, he’d have had some justification.

As things stood, he wasn’t sure why Lan Wangji hadn’t shaken this unsubtle display of clinginess off as soon as it appeared. Though no, that wasn’t quite true – Jiang Cheng had, after all, noticed the looks they were each giving the other when they thought the other wasn’t looking.

If there was one thing in the world Jiang Cheng had thought he wouldn’t see in his lifetime, it was Lan Wangji giving someone sheep’s eyes.

All of this was going to give him nightmares for the rest of his life, he just knew it.

With that thought, he turned around again, ready to pace back to the other side of the courtyard – before long, he was going to wear a rut into the area in front of the elder meeting hall, not that they didn’t deserve it – when the door to said hall slid open, revealing Lan Qiren.

Oh no. At the rate his day was going, the old man was going to take one look at his nephew and Wei Wuxian and qi-deviate on the spot, meaning Jiang Cheng would have to explain to his parents how they’d not only managed to pick up imposters but also kill a teacher and be expelled from the Cloud Recesses in not even a week. The entire sect would lose face. Mother was never going to forgive him. Father was never going to speak to him again. The entire Jiang Sect would be in shambles and he would end up on the street and and…

Jiang Cheng’s entire life flashed by him in about three seconds, and then he noticed Wei Wuxian had somehow managed to jump up and remove himself from Lan Wangji’s immediate vicinity in time, leaving Lan Qiren none the wiser.

Apparently, his brother still had some modicum of sense left, Jiang Cheng thought as he tried to calm his racing heartbeat.

“Shufu?”, Lan Wangji asked gravely, having stood as well and as eloquent as ever. Wei Wuxian, thankfully, kept his peace, the hand he’d not used to hold Lan Wangji’s hidden behind his back, fist clenched around a piece of paper.

Lan Qiren nodded at them in turn – even Wei Wuxian, which somehow was the strangest thing that had happened this morning despite everything. Perhaps the peacock was going to declare his undying love for A-Jie next?

Oh no, now he really was going to have nightmares…

Quickly, Jiang Cheng smoothed his face and did his best to listen attentively.

“We have come to the decision to believe your story, as strange as it might be.” Great, Jiang Cheng had thought they were already well beyond that! He had to bite his tongue to keep from making a sharp comment as Lan Qiren continued.

“We will therefore organise search parties to look for the intruders and ask for you to remain within your quarters until they have been detained. We will inform you…”

“But we can’t just sit around and wait!”

Bold move to interrupt Lan Qiren like that! Oh, wait – that had been him. Jiang Cheng fought the urge to quail at the disappointed look his teacher shot him, which was – well, just about as hard as he would have expected. He had no idea how Wei Wuxian managed all the time.

Lan Qiren continued on as if Jiang Cheng hadn’t spoken.

“We will inform you as soon as the intruders have been found or the area has been deemed safe. Now leave; we will contact you if we require more information.”

Wait, that was it?

“But…”

“Come on, A-Cheng, you heard him, let’s go!” Jiang Cheng whipped around, bestowing his brother with the poisonous glare he’d not dared give Lan Qiren.

“Are you insane? We can’t just twiddle our thumbs while those people run all over the Cloud Recesses pretending to be us! Who knows what they’ll do next?” With his luck, somebody would think the imposter was actually him, and he’d never live it down!

“Aiya, don’t say that, I’m sure they’ll be found in no time!”

There was something wrong with his brother. Well, there was always something wrong with his brother, but right now, it was worse than usual. Agreeing to something Lan Qiren said? That was absolutely unheard of! And besides…

“You can’t know that! And what’s wrong with your eyes?”

“What? There’s nothing wrong with my eyes, hehe, silly A-Cheng…” Even as he was speaking, his eyes kept flitting over to where Lan Qiren was saying something to Lan Wangji and then back to Jiang Cheng. And it wasn’t even the sheep’s eyes he would have expected, though that would have been bad enough.

“There is too! And with your brains as well, if you want to stay inside while there’s imposters on the loose!” Jiang Cheng was getting truly angry now. Had everyone except him lost their minds?

To make matters worse, Wei Wuxian ignored him in favour of turning to Lan Qiren, who’d broken off his discussion with Lan Wangji and was looking at them both in disapproval.

It wasn’t any more fun the second time around, though Jiang Cheng supposed he had been rather loud.

“I’m sorry! My brother hasn’t had any breakfast yet, that always makes him testy.”

Jiang Cheng’s mouth dropped open, in too much shock to unleash the storm that was brewing inside of him. Wei Wuxian took the opportunity to tug him all the way out of the courtyard, still bowing to their teacher, Jiang Cheng stumbling behind, his mind still too outraged for words. By the time they’d gone around half a dozen corners, Jiang Cheng finally managed to find his voice again.

“You… I’m going to…”

“Shhh…” Wei Wuxian had the audacity to put his hand on Jiang Cheng’s mouth.

Jiang Cheng was sorely tempted to bite him.

Instead, he mumbled around his brother’s fingers: “Ahm nat jast goin ta stay insad an wait…”

Wei Wuxian made a funny face and removed his hand from Jiang Cheng’s mouth. “What?”

“I’m not just going to stay inside and wait. If you think… what is it?”

Wei Wuxian was looking at him as if he were an idiot, and that was patently unfair, considering it was decidedly the other way around.

“Of course we’re not going to do that!”

“What?” Jiang Cheng felt like he’d repeated that word way too often today already.

Wei Wuxian shrugged. “Lan Qiren is supposed to think we’re doing that, but really, we’re going to look for the imposters ourselves. After all, who better to find us than, well, us?”

By now, Wei Wuxian was sporting his usual smug look. Jiang Cheng couldn’t even say it was a bad plan, even if it was not much of one. But first things first…

“Of course. I knew that.” Jiang Cheng straightened as if he’d never had any doubts at all; no point in letting his brother know he hadn’t seen through his ploy, after all. “So let’s go!”

Jiang Cheng made to turn for the place they’d last encountered the imposters, but Wei Wuxian stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“We should go back to our rooms first, just in case someone’s watching us. Besides, I want to have a closer look at this.”

He held out the crumpled piece of paper Jiang Cheng had noticed him conceal earlier. As he smoothed it out, he recognised the talisman the intruders had used on them.

“You kept that?”

“Of course! I’ve never seen anything like it before. Who knows, maybe it’ll even help us find them!”

Jiang Cheng looked down at the unfamiliar combination of characters and signs and couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of foreboding.

Or maybe it was just hunger – they had missed breakfast, after all.

Meanwhile, in the Jin section of the Cloud Recesses disciple compound, a letter is being written…

To the Most Honoured Jin Guangshan, Leader of the Jin Sect,

Dear father,

I hope this letter finds you well. I know you asked not to be disturbed while I was away, but something has happened that even you can’t ignore I find of the utmost importance to impart to you.

Regrettably, I have to inform you that someone is running around here pretending to be me there is someone pretending to be of your exalted station on the loose in the Cloud Recesses. How this could have happened, I do not know, especially since these people seem to be idiots the imposter’s mind seems to be of inferior quality, considering they seem to be under the impression that I have already taken over the sect they do not do justice to your likeness in the least.

Be that as it may, clearly, security here in the Cloud Recesses is a joke rather lax. Nothing like this would ever be possible in Koi Tower!

As the honour of our sect demands, I of course attempted to duel the wretch but was unfortunately prevented from doing so by unfair tricks the use of foul magic. I do know, however, that whatever it was, Jiang Yanli’s brothers had something to do with it. Or at least, I am reasonably certain of that, given that they, too, seem to have pretenders on the loose here, though perhaps that sort of thing happens regularly at Lotus Pier I hold those yokels capable of anything. Either way, maybe this would be a good time to unshackle me from the Jiang girl rethink the engagement?

I know you have the attention span of a gnat for anything that isn’t young and female your time is at a premium, so I will not bother you any longer except to say that I would be happy to supply further details upon request. If you can rip yourself away from your playthings long enough, really, I’m not even sure why I am writing this find the time, I would be grateful for further instructions.

Your loving dutiful son,

Jin Zixuan

Chapter Text

Back with the adults…

By the time they arrived back on the outskirts of Yunping City, the moon was heavy in the sky, shining down on four figures sharing two swords who were gliding along just high enough to make out the chirping of the crickets from the treetops below. A soft summer breeze played with Wei Wuxian’s hair, mingling his long black tresses with Lan Wangji’s as he bent back around to steal a kiss, giggling as his husband only gripped him tighter in response, the outline of his strong arms clearly visible in the moonlight through his white robes.

Even Jiang Wanyin had to privately admit it looked ridiculously romantic. It was almost enough to make him gag.

On second thought, maybe the matchmaker had had a point when she’d blacklisted him years ago.

Jiang Wanyin himself, because fate hated him, had his arms full of sleepy preteen, who, to make matters worse, was too stubborn to admit he kept fading and had hissed like an angry cat when Jiang Wanyin had tried to simply hoist him onto his back and be done with it. As it was, Jiang Wanyin now had several scratches on his arms – the boy’s fingernails were lethal - and was precariously balancing Xue Yang on Sandu in front of him, checking periodically to make sure he wasn’t just going to completely nod off while they were still in mid-air.

At least he’d stopped trying to actively find ways to yeet himself off the sword.

Now that the boy was quiet and his brother was otherwise occupied – and really, where had that hand disappeared to? Better not think about it –, Jiang Wanyin’s thoughts kept straying to the next point on their hastily constructed itinerary (barring Jin Ling’s dealings with Jin Guangyao, which surely wouldn’t take all that long?). They didn’t yet have much of a plan beyond “kill Wen Ruohan and his cursed brood”, though Jiang Wanyin was confident inspiration would come in time – he’d certainly never gotten tired of imagining, or remembering, their grisly deaths. Even if mid-air with a child on board was definitely not the ideal place to indulge in daydreams of murder.

To distract himself, he turned his eyes to the landscape below, where the city was slowly falling asleep, the lights in the houses and huts blinking out one by one. There’d be some quarters of the city where the lights would last longer, of course, where the red lanterns would burn on until the early hours of the morning. Jiang Wanyin’s mind was once again drawn to Jin Guangyao, still young and innocent in this time.

Jiang Wanyin snorted – as if such a thing had ever existed!

As if to mock him for that though, a movement drew his attention to the child in front of him.

He stubbornly ignored the connection that was beginning to form. With any luck, Jin Ling hadn’t found him anyway, and he could use that as an excuse to move on to what would come next. If there was one good thing to come out of all of this, it was that he’d get to kill Wen Chao a second time, which was surely…

Before Jiang Wanyin could indulge his revenge fantasies any further, his brother let out a giggle (no, he was not going to look), the child in front of him started to list dangerously to the left, and the moment had passed. Unclenching his fists, Jiang Wanyin shook Xue Yang, first gently and then a little harder, until the mumbled “Stop it, I’m awake!” sounded at least somewhat believable. By that time, his anger had subsided somewhat – it helped that Wei Wuxian was now done with whatever had induced those noises earlier.

“Hey, there they are!”

It didn’t take Jiang Wanyin long to spot what his brother had seen, four figures waiting for them in a clearing. Good. Jin Ling had apparently managed to not get himself hurt. He turned his gaze back onto his brother, who was now waving with both hands, relying on Lan Wangji to keep him from slipping.

Jiang Cheng’s heart immediately plummeted into his stomach. What was it with idiots trying to fall off swords today?

“Stop that!”

“Stop what?” his brother asked, turning around on the sword, his natural gracefulness and Lan Wangji’s quick reaction the only thing to keep him from plummeting a tree’s length to the ground.

Which should be quite enough – despite his borderline dislike of the man, Jiang Wanyin had to admit that Lan Wangji wouldn’t ever let his brother come to harm if there was anything at all he could do about it –, but the annoying knot in his stomach didn’t care.

“That!” Jiang Wanyin forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down – never his best suit – before he gave himself away.

“Aww, it almost sounds like you’re worried!”

“I’m not! I just don’t want to have to deal with your husband if you go splat!” Jiang Wanyin almost winced – that hadn’t exactly come out as he’d meant it. As if on cue, Lan Wangji turned his head and – yes, that was definitely a glare.

Well, either that or constipation, and considering the circumstances he was fairly certain it was the former this time.

Almost against his will, the aborted wince came out more like a snort. “Whatever. See if I care…” It wasn’t his fault they were here – if he didn’t want to suffer Jiang Wanyin’s temper, he shouldn’t have blasted them to the past!

“That’s cold, Jiang Cheng…” The slightly hurt note in his brother’s voice really shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did. Besides, before… well, before everything, Wei Wuxian would have known he didn’t mean it.

That’s what you got for insisting on being dead for upwards of a dozen years!

Fortunately, before Jiang Wanyin’s temper could get the better of him and he said something he’d truly regret (he was fairly sure Lan Wangji wouldn’t attempt to push him off his sword while he was holding a small child, but he’d rather not chance it), they arrived at the clearing where the Juniors were waiting. As soon as they were on the ground, Xue Yang staggered off Sandu with a wide yawn and sank down in the grass.

“Jiujiu!” Jin Ling beamed and began running over to them, slowing down after a moment to continue on in a more dignified manner. For some reason, Jiang Wanyin was having heartburn again. He hadn’t even eaten anything recently!

He decided it was probably Wei Wuxian’s fault for being so aggravating.

Behind his nephew, the other Juniors approached more slowly, Lan Sizhui bowing respectfully in greeting – at least somebody knew how to show proper respect! –, the others following suit.

“Did you miss us?” Wei Wuxian sauntered forward with a wide grin as if the little spat just now had never happened, completely disregarding ceremony as always. Jiang Wanyin let out a slow breath and took the opportunity to check that Xue Yang hadn’t run for the hills. He’d gotten a lot less skittish as the day wore on, but it never paid to be too complacent, even if the boy was probably too stuffed full of candy to move at anything approaching the necessary speed to outpace a trained adult cultivator – though one never knew, Jin Ling had been slippery at that age, too.

Honestly, it was a wonder the boy hadn’t thrown up yet, though even thinking it felt like tempting fate. The Juniors didn’t seem to have noticed Xue Yang yet, which, while fortunate for Jiang Wanyin, did not speak highly of their perceptive capabilities. He made a mental note to have a talk with Jin Ling about being aware of your surroundings later.

“Wei-qianbei!“

Lan Sizhui was ducking away from his brother’s outstretched hand, evidently unwilling to suffer the indignity of ruffled hair, when Jiang Wanyin turned his attention back. Curiously, despite his earlier enthusiasm, Jin Ling now seemed to hang back, which wasn’t like him at all. He couldn’t find any injuries – just to make sure, he looked him over again –, but something was different about his nephew. The fact that he couldn’t put his finger on what was disconcerting.

“Did you find him?”

Jin Ling blanched, making Jiang Wanyin immediately suspicious.

“Well, did you?”

Jin Ling swallowed, still not looking at him directly.

“Speak up!”

Really, why was everyone insisting on being difficult today?

“Well, umm, I mean… yes?” Something was definitely going on here. The last time Jin Ling had been that cagey had been at the Discussion Conference before Jin Ling had officially received his courtesy name, and it had ended with the Senior Lan delegation having to sit out an entire day while their robes were in the wash.

Come to think of it, Jiang Wanyin was fairly certain the other boys had been involved then, too…

“What’s that supposed to mean? So you did find him? Where is he?” If Jin Guangyao was running around here somewhere, he’d really prefer to know sooner rather than later.

“Aiya, Jiang Cheng, leave the poor boy alone, we’ve barely even landed and you’re already talking business!”

Of course his brother had to go jumping in. His temper still on a short leash from earlier, Jiang Wanyin wheeled around.

“Excuse me for wanting to know what my nephew has been up to!”

At his tone, Lan Wangji managed to bristle all over without even moving a muscle. Had Jiang Wanyin not been too busy being annoyed to notice, he surely would have been impressed. Had he been a more emotionally aware person, he would have realised that this was exactly the wrong thing to say. Unfortunately, Jiang Wanyin was, alas, as a rule, not particularly emotionally aware.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes flashed. “I’m sure our nephew can do without you jumping down his throat.”

Jiang Wanyin sputtered, buying him a split second before he ruined his new-found relationship with his brother.

A split second was enough for fate to intervene in the form of one Ouyang Zizhen, who’d wandered off to the side to get away from what was shaping up to be a spectacularly angry Sandu Shengshou and had promptly proceeded to stumble over something in the high grass, depositing him on his backside.

“What the…” Ouyang Zizhen hadn’t even managed to sit up properly again before a small form shot up and backed away from him.

“Get off me!”, the small boy hissed, glaring at him furiously.

It wouldn’t have looked intimidating even if he hadn’t been rubbing the sleep out of his eyes at the same time.

“Jiujiu, who is that?”, Jin Ling asked faintly, as if he already had an inkling.

It was Jiang Wanyin’s turn to swallow.

“Yes, jiujiu, who is that?” Wei Wuxian echoed, clearly not opposed to the notion of payback in the form of bestowing public humiliation.

Jiang Wanyin considered revoking his Lotus Pier privileges.

The object of their dispute let out a giant yawn, scattering any crickets that hadn’t already been driven off by the earlier yelling.

The younger Lans shot Hanguang-Jun wide-eyed looks.

“What’s going on?”, Xue Yang demanded, his sleepiness mostly dissipated, as he gravitated towards Jiang Wanyin. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d done to win the boy’s trust so quickly.

On second thought, it probably had to do with the fact that he’d basically bought the boy’s body weight in sweets.

There was a round of gasps from the Juniors as the boy stepped fully into the moonlight.

“Hanguang-Jun?”, one of the junior Lans ventured quietly. By now, Ouyang Zizhen had managed to heave himself upright again, looking faintly sick, as if he’d been the one who’d eaten too many sweets.

“There’s more of you?” By now, the only token of Xue Yang’s tiredness was a slight lisp as he practically clung to Jiang Wanyin’s robes. It was, frankly, adorable. Not that Jiang Wanyin would have ever admitted that. Off to the side, one of the Juniors let out a soft “Aww…”.

“Jiujiu what… is that Xue Yang?”

At the mention of his name, the boy drew back, clutching his bag of left-over sweets to his chest, and squinted at them all with manifest suspicion. “How do you know my name?”

He went ignored as Jin Ling’s voice went almost whiny in indignation. “Jiujiu, you can’t… he’s evil!”

Over where the Lans had congregated, Lan Jingyi scratched the back of his neck. “He’s kind of got a point…”

Jiang Wanyin felt a small hand creeping up his sleeve, but before he could develop any further feelings of affection, he suddenly remembered that that was where he’d stored the knife he’d managed to take off the boy earlier that day. The realization soured his mood further as he crossed his arms, which had the side effect of removing his sleeve from the boy’s reach. “Telling me what to do now, are you?”

Jin Ling reflexively shook his head at the sight of his jiujiu’s narrowed eyes. “No, I…” Before he could dig his own grave deeper – and Jiang Wanyin would have totally been willing to let him - Wei Wuxian stepped forward and settled a hand on Xue Yang’s shoulder.

“Come on, he’s just a kid! Turns out even the great Sandu Shengshou can be soft-hearted from time to… ouch!” He stopped with a sudden wince, reaching down to rub his shin while Xue Yang slipped to Jiang Wanyin’s other side. “I’m not a kid!”

Jiang Wanyin had to fight the urge to snicker, the bruises Xue Yang had given him earlier that day twinging in sympathy.

Seemingly emboldened by the lack of a negative reaction – he could already tell the boy was going to be a handful – Xue Yang continued: “And I’m not evil! You, you stuck-up…” Jiang Wanyin could practically see his sleep-addled brain search for a suitable expletive and come up empty. Instead, he confined himself to making a rude gesture at Jin Ling, the likes of which a child of his age definitely shouldn’t have been privy to.

The look on Jin Ling’s face was absolutely priceless - Jiang Wanyin was torn between reprimanding Xue Yang and commending him.

There was an uncomfortable shuffling of feet as everyone stared at the future bane of Yi City, who was glaring at everyone while attempting to surreptitiously fold back the sleeves of his new robes, which kept falling over his hands. He did not look at all menacing.

In fact, Jiang Wanyin might have even heard another “Aww…” from somewhere, which he steadfastly ignored.

After they’d all stared for a while more, Lan Sizhui cleared his throat. “So we’re just going to, umm, keep him?”

Suddenly, Jin Ling inhaled sharply. Jiang Wanyin knew that face – his nephew had just come up with something. He felt a trickle of unease down his spine. Looking at his nephew, he once again realised there was something not quite right, though he still couldn’t put his finger on it.

For some reason, the other Juniors all took a step back, which surely didn’t bode well either.

Jin Ling shot them all a dark look, then turned to the adults, arms crossed and chin tilted confidently. “If you’re going to keep Xue Yang, I’m going to keep shushu!”

There was absolutely no way he’d heard that right.

“What are you talking about?”

Jin Ling’s voice was full of familiar bravado as he forged ahead. “I said, if you’re going to, to… fraternise with Xue Yang, I’m not going to feel bad about having shushu come with us!”

“What’s fratern-eyes?”, a small voice piped up with great suspicion from somewhere around elbow-height, going summarily ignored.

“So you did find him?” Wei Wuxian sounded too happy by far, and Jiang Wanyin had to restrain himself not to thump him on the head.

Then he remembered that they’d made up, his brother privileges were therefore restored, and reached right over.

“Ouch, what was that for?”

Jiang Wanyin scoffed at the exaggerated way in which Wei Wuxian was rubbing the back of his head – he definitely hadn’t hit him that hard – and turned back to Jin Ling.

“You made contact without waiting for me first?”

He was starting to regret not paying more attention to the Juniors that morning – he’d been distracted by thoughts of Lotus Pier, never burnt and so tantalisingly close, but clearly, his nephew still couldn’t be left alone for a second.

“I had to! You should have seen that place, it was awful.” All fear of his jiujiu’s reaction forgotten, Jin Ling puffed his breast out in a way that reminded Jiang Wanyin of his father at his most arrogant. Sometimes, it was hard to believe that Jin Ling had never really met him, at least not until this whole mess had started. “The woman who was running it was the worst - I’ve never met such a horrible person! And I’m sure I saw some mold on the walls, how…”

“Wait a minute – what place?” Jiang Wanyin had a sneaking suspicion, but that couldn’t be right – they’d always made sure to keep any mention of Jin Guangyao’s colourful past away from Jin Ling.

Jin Ling blinked, thrown off his rant. At least he had the grace to blush. “Umm, the brothel?”

Jiang Wanyin pinched the top of his nose to stave off the headache that was threating to build. Maybe it wasn’t too late to just turn around, go to Lotus Pier, and hide in his old bedroom hoping his miraculously alive parents would mistake him for his fifteen-year-old self…

Yeah, he didn’t think so.

Somewhere beyond the rushing in his ears, Wei Wuxian was saying something inane – he didn’t need to understand the exact words to know that – causing both younger Lans to reply at the same time. When Jiang Wanyin opened his eyes again, Jingyi was laughing, and even Ouyang Zizhen was giggling cautiously.

At least Jin Ling was still looking at him in a worried manner, clenching and unclenching his left fist in a nervous habit Jiang Wanyin knew he’d been trying to leave behind.

Slowly unclenching his teeth – ah, that’s why his jaw hurt! – Jiang Wanyin took a deep breath.

“Jin Ling! Do I need to break both your legs to make sure you follow my instructions?” He realised he’d been rather louder than he’d intended when even Wei Wuxian flinched.

“Jiujiu…”

“Don’t jiujiu me! You were supposed to find him and report back!”

“But I couldn’t just…”

“And now look what you’ve done! Where are you even going to put him? I – “

“Now, come on, we already have to deal with Xue Yang, like he says, one more isn’t going to make a difference!” Wei Wuxian put his hand on his arm in what Jiang Wanyin presumed was supposed to be a conciliatory gesture but only served to make him angrier. He whirled to face his brother and narrowed his eyes.

“You! If you knew what you were doing, we wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place!” Something told him he was dangerously close to crossing a line, and he was reasonably sure it was more than his brother-in-law’s pissed-off glare.

Jiang Wanyin took some more deep breaths, willing his annoyance to recede. Wei Wuxian didn’t say a word as he slowly simmered back down, even though he could see in his brother’s eyes that he wanted to.

He would never have admitted to being grateful for that, of course, but he was.

Once he’d decided he’d calmed down enough, he realised that even the tiny version of Xue Yang, who’d retreated back a few steps from the entire scene, was watching him with big eyes.

At least the boy hadn’t run. That would have been… embarrassing.

Jiang Wanyin swallowed to alleviate his suddenly dry mouth and brought his attention back to his nephew. “Don’t think this is over. We’ll talk about this. Later.”

Jin Ling’s head bobbed up and down frantically as Wei Wuxian stepped forward. “Well, now that that’s out of the way, how about we set up camp? Everything will look better after we’ve had a good night’s sleep.” The knowing look and eyebrow waggle his brother sent Lan Wangji during that last bit didn’t fool anyone, Jiang Wanyin was convinced.

Stood to reason that even in this situation those two would find ways to be relentlessly shameful.

Then again, his antics had broken the lingering tension nicely, so maybe that had been entirely on purpose. One could never know with Wei Wuxian.

There was a collective flurry of laying out of bedrolls, collecting of firewood and of a myriad of other tasks that needed to be done before they could bed down for the night, especially since Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji seemed to have suspiciously disappeared. Well, Jiang Wanyin had a fairly good idea what they were doing, and he didn’t want to think about it.

At least his brother was happy.

Jiang Wanyin was halfway through showing Xue Yang how to properly build a fire – no point to the boy being with them if he didn’t learn anything, after all – when his nephew passed him by on his way to draw water from the nearby creek. It was then that Jiang Wanyin finally became aware of what had been bothering him about Jin Ling since they’d come back. He reached out a hand and tapped his nephew’s ponytail. “What happened to your hairpiece?”

Jin Ling blanched.

Jiang Wanyin’s eyes narrowed.

“I still don’t know what fratern-eyes is!” Xue Yang complained.

That same day, at the Cloud Recesses…

Small sticks and leaves crackled underfoot as the four of them crept through the underbrush at the fringes of the main Lan compound. Jiang Cheng would have preferred to use the paths, but Lan Zhan was probably correct when he said that the chance that they’d be spotted if they moved out in the open was too great.

Well, he’d used fewer words than that, but that certainly had seemed to be the gist of it. Apparently, Lans were just as unwilling to be punished by their elders as the rest of the Cultivation world – who’d have thought.

Jiang Cheng was still not entirely over the fact that the rules stickler had been willing to follow them in the first place, but all it had taken was Wei Wuxian sneaking up to the window of his hut and batting his eyes at him and off they were. Because apparently, that was a thing now.

It was fortunate that Jiang Cheng was so occupied with thoughts of the intruders, or he might have been jealous of the attention.

On the way to the outskirts of the compound, they’d then run into the peacock when they’d all tried to hide behind the same bush from a group of Nie disciples. Jiang Cheng still had no idea what the other had even been doing sneaking around, but he’d invited himself to join them on their impromptu imposter hunt, bringing their number up to four.

Now Jiang Cheng was stuck here, the last of the compound’s buildings slowly falling out of sight behind them. In front of him, his brother and Lang Zhan walked almost close enough to touch. The backs of their hands brushed every couple of steps, but neither of them seemed to mind. Jiang Cheng was right behind them, Jin Zixuan next to him thankfully adhering to a much more tolerable definition of personal space.

So far, they’d seen neither hide nor hair of the annoying intruders, though they’d almost run into a Lan patrol coming towards them when they’d rounded one of the sheds just outside the compound proper. At least somebody else was finally taking this whole thing seriously!

“What do you suppose they’re doing here?” Jin Zixuan’s voice sounded stilted, but at least it broke the uncomfortable silence, startling Jiang Cheng out of his definitely-not-jealousy.

“How should I know? Take over control of our sects, most likely!” Just because he was grateful about the silence being broken didn’t mean Jin Zixuan had to know that, after all.

Lan Zhan looked back, his spine straightening almost imperceptibly, his face conveying… something. Really, would it kill him to be more expressive?

Wei Ying, of course, with his newfound preternatural Lan-interpretation powers, seemed to know exactly what he meant.

“I wonder if there’s going to be an imposter of Zewu-Jun? If they’re targeting the Jiang, Lan and Jin Sects, stands to reason that he could be next. Especially since we’re already in the Cloud Recesses.”

“We should probably warn Huaisang too”, Jiang Cheng said, frowning. Now that his brother had mentioned it, that did make sense.

“A plan to target the heirs of the great sects? Isn’t that rather brazen?”

Jiang Cheng scoffed at the peacock’s question. “What, like infiltrating the guest disciple compound with bad actors who don’t look anything like us? They didn’t even get our ages right! I don’t think –“

“Shhh!”

Jiang Cheng sent his brother a poisonous glare but nevertheless lowered his voice. “I don’t think being subtle is really high on their list of priorities.”

“Point taken.” Jin Zixuan scrunched up his nose in a way that girls probably would have called cute, but as far as Jiang Cheng was concerned it only served to make him even more annoying. Especially since girls had no business finding Jin Zixuan cute while he was promised to A-jie. “There’s still the question of who else was with them. Why’d they bring others? They can’t possibly think they can replace any of us long term!”

Jiang Cheng shrugged, realising that this was probably the longest civil conversation he’d had with Jin Zixuan since they’d been small children forced to attend the same boring grown-up meetings as sect heirs. “Who cares? All I know is I’m going to find whoever thinks they can take my place and make sure they regret it.”

“It’s a good question though – what could they be planning?” While Jiang Cheng hadn’t been looking, his brother had picked up a stick from the underbrush and was idly twirling it between the fingers of one hand. Typical – he’d never been able to keep still, even on pain of punishment.

Which just made the situation with Lan Wangji, who’d potentially been a statue in an earlier life, even odder.

“Perhaps they want gold?” Jin Zixuan suggested, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes heavenward. “And this was the easiest way they could think of?”

“Then information! It’d be easier to get that from us while we’re here than at home!”

“Not a bad idea”, Wei Wuxian interjected. At some point, he’d shifted to walk backwards as to better follow their exchange, and he was now pointing his stick at the peacock as if he were the leader of a classroom discussion pointing out a particularly insightful contribution. It was starting to piss Jiang Cheng off.

“That still doesn’t explain what they’re doing impersonating us!” Jiang Cheng could hear himself getting louder once more, but he didn’t care.

Jin Zixuan was doing the nose-scrunching thing again. “Maybe nobody was supposed to realise we were gone? So they snatch us, then –“

He stalled, but Wei Wuxian nodded eagerly, ready to take up the thread. “Then they get whatever they want from us, and because of the decoys they’ve got time to do that before anybody notices.”

Their eyes met in a moment of perfect understanding. Then each realised just who they’d connected with and immediately looked away mortified.

Jiang Cheng was ready to scream.

“But that plan is stupid!”

“Shhh!”

This time it came from Lan Wangji, which was just insulting. And why was his hand on his brother’s arm? Lan Wangji had his own brother!

“It’s stupid!” The words hissed out from between his teeth while his best death-glare hit the back of the other Junior disciple’s skull. Said Junior disciple remained seemingly unaffected, but it still somehow made Jiang Cheng feel better.

“Well, do you have a better idea?” Jin Zixuan was starting to sound annoyed as well, and oh, this was familiar territory. Jiang Cheng could work with this.

Nostrils already flaring, he whirled around to face the other boy. “Yes, how about I –“

Jiang Cheng was spared from having to figure out how to continue that sentence when a yelp rang out in front of him. He shifted his attention and was greeted by the sight of his brother, half-sprawled in Lan Wangji’s arms, having evidently tripped and almost fallen.

That’s what you got for not paying attention to where you were going!

Lan Wangji blinked, which by his standards was remarkably expressive. “Wei Ying. Careful.”

In response, Wei Wuxian slowly fluttered his eyelashes, a faint blush spreading up his cheeks. He notably made no attempt to right himself from his position.

Jiang Cheng almost regretted not just giving in and going with the imposters.

Silence settled over the four hikers once again as they continued slowly up the mountain.

Chapter Text

“You’re not coming with us, and that’s final. Now pack your things, the Mengs are going to be here soon.”

“It’s not fair. I want to help you, jiujiu!” Jin Ling huffed in frustration, his leg twitching as if he was only barely keeping himself from stomping on the ground like a toddler. Jiang Cheng pressed his lips together and reminded himself that Jin Ling was, in fact, no longer a toddler, that they were on a timeline, and anyway, he’d be damned if he was going to reward this kind of behaviour.

Just as he was about to inform Jin Ling of that last point, and arm slung itself around his shoulder, and he risked a look to his left to see his brother standing there, head cocked at their wayward nephew. For a moment, he contemplated shoving his brother away with not inconsiderable force – after all, such familiarity should not go unpunished! – , but then he saw Lan Wangji’s possessive stare zero in on them. Somehow, the man still hadn’t completely accepted that Wei Wuxian sometimes touched other people.

Jiang Cheng decided he could permit his brother to lean on him for a little while longer. Besides, dare he say it – it almost felt nice.

Then Wei Wuxian opened his mouth.

“But you are helping, A-Ling! Who else will make sure the Mengs and Xue Yang travel safely? Besides, you can see how grouchy Jiang Cheng is today, do you really want to stay near him?”

Had he just thought having Wei Wuxian near him felt nice? Clearly, his mind was addled by this whole time-travel business! Still, the Juniors were watching, so Jiang Cheng decided to hold back and contented himself with lightly elbowing his brother in the side to make him aware of his rudeness.

Said brother, of course, immediately folded like he’d been hit with a sack of bricks. “Oww! Is that how you treat your beloved brother?”

“You call me that after you say such things about me? I’ve a mind to show you grouchy!”

“Aiya, such violence! Of course you’re grouchy, you’re –“

They were about five minutes into the argument when Jiang Cheng surfaced to take a deep breath and realised that Jin Ling had given up and stormed back off to his friends. Which was just as well, as nothing Jin Ling could ever say or do would convince him to allow his nephew to come within throwing distance of Wen Ruohan if he could in any way help it.

Jin Ling was still sulking half an hour later when their discussion was finished and they were ready to leave on their self-imposed mission to rid the world of Wen Ruohan and his abominable sons. Jiang Cheng was internally lamenting his nephew’s immaturity – he’d tried lamenting it externally, but the only available audience apart from Xue Yang, and that had just felt wrong, had been Wei Wuxian, who’d run off almost immediately to “put out the fire”. Of course, for some reason, putting out that fire had somehow involved sticking his tongue down Lan Wangji’s tonsils.

Jiang Cheng was never walking to the edge of their campsite without a chaperone ever again.

Anyway, he wasn’t going to reward Jin Ling’s appalling behaviour with further attention, so he made absolutely sure to give the boy his coldest stare when he went over to double-check that the boys had packed properly for their own journey, and to remind Jin Ling of the extra rations he had made sure to put in his qiankun bag. After all, his nephew was a growing boy, and besides, if the few times the group had visited Lotus Pier together was anything to go by, Lan Jingyi consumed any available food as if he had a hole in his stomach.

There was a further short delay to say goodbye to Xue Yang – surprisingly, the kid hadn’t even tried to sneak off with their money pouches in the night. He had, however, managed to spill the rest of their congee on Lan Wangji’s robes when he’d helped take their breakfast dishes to the nearby river to be washed.

Jiang Cheng was going to make damn sure that kid went to a good home.

Finally, the adults were ready to take off. As the camp dwindled into the distance behind them, Jiang Cheng looked back and saw a carriage making its slow way through the woods, not too far from their camp site. The boys would already be on their way over to meet the Mengs, though of course none of the adults would be able to be there for that – if anyone could, Jin Guangyao was both smart and twisty enough to put two and two together and arrive at “time-travellers” if he were to somehow encounter both them and their younger versions, so they’d decided it was best if they were long gone by the time he arrived. Jiang Cheng had every faith in Jin Ling that he’d manage to successfully herd everybody to the Cloud Recesses – how could he not, after all this was his perfect nephew! – but he still wished he could be there to guide him.

After he’d dealt with the Wens for a second – and hopefully final – time, that was.

Back down on the ground, Jin Ling was in a foul mood.

“It’s not fair. I want to help jiujiu!” Huffing in frustration, he just barely kept himself from kicking at a nearby stone. “So you’ve said…”, Jingyi muttered nearby, but Jin Ling ignored that as below his dignity.

They’d taken no time at all to arrive at the rendezvous point they’d settled on the day before and were now waiting for Meng Yao and his mother, not to mention all of their material goods, to make an appearance. Why jiujiu insisted they accompany two grown adults - well, one grown adult and one very small xiao shushu, and he wouldn’t even count Xue Yang, the sooner that kid got himself lost the better – to the Cloud Recesses in peacetime, he didn’t know. What did jiujiu think was going to happen, a surprise attack by roaming demonic cultivators?

Well, maybe Jin Ling did sort of know why jiujiu wouldn’t want him near Nightless City, but he was old enough, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t fight. He was sect leader of the Jin, and if you thought about it, the Jin were larger than the Jiang, so it should be jiujiu who should be listening to him!

Jin Ling stopped for a moment, examining this argument for use in future negotiations. Why hadn’t he thought of this before?

His budding plans were interrupted by the creak of wheels as a carriage rolled around a bend in the road and became visible behind the trees that had previously hidden it.

“That’s the one we hired yesterday, isn’t it?” Zizhen asked, getting up from where he’d been lounging against a tree. By the time the carriage drew near, the Juniors were all lined up along the dirt road. Only Xue Yang, who had been playing with a sharpened stick he’d kept from the campfire, hung back while eyeing the approaching carriage suspiciously.

“You think they figured out what’s really going on?” Jingyi was bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes darting between the carriage and the impromptu welcoming committee. Jin Ling felt a bolt of unease shoot through him, but before anybody could respond, a small body pushed past him.

“Why, what’s really going on?” Xue Yang had apparently picked exactly the wrong moment to grow bored of his sharpened stick.

Wonderful. As if the kid weren’t already annoying enough.

Jin Ling shot him a sharp look. “Nothing, you pest.”

“Don’t call me that, or I’m going to tell your jiujiu you were mean to me!”

“You little…” before he could close the gap between him and the nuisance, Jin Ling felt a hand on his arm.

“They’re almost here.”

At Sizhui’s words, Jin Ling turned around and saw that the carriage was now slowly rolling to a stop in front of them. He swallowed, not even knowing why he his mouth was so dry – after all, he’d seen Meng Yao just the day before. He wasn’t even shushu, really – after all, did it count if they couldn’t remember you because you didn’t even exist yet?

His definitely-not-yet xiao shushu stepped out of the carriage first, handing down his mother after him. She was clearly wearing her best travel clothes, and Jin Ling had no problem believing that she’d been a famed beauty. No – was currently a famed beauty.

Argh, this time travel business was confusing!

Maybe for the first time in his life, Jin Ling was grateful for the many lectures on etiquette and bearing he’d had to suffer as a child, many of them from the – young man? Jin Ling still didn’t know exactly how old he was! – standing in front of him now. It meant that at least outwardly, nobody could see he was panicking, and he allowed himself to do exactly that while the new arrivals bowed in greeting.

That is, until Zizhen’s elbow softly hit his side and he realised the Mengs had long since straightened up again and everyone was waiting for him to speak.

As if he’d always meant to wait this long, Jin Ling gave a regal nod of his head – shallow enough to acknowledge their difference in station, lest they get suspicious – and told himself that if he could deal with a hall full of annoying heads of Jin branch sects, he could deal with this as well. The thought helped him get through the necessary greetings, and by the time they were talking about the arrangements necessary for the coming journey, he’d become comfortable enough that the fact that he was talking to a younger version of his dead shushu was no more than a minor detail of the current conversation.

Definitely no more than that.

Alright, maybe more of a major detail, but at least the part of his brain that wouldn’t stop freaking out about it had stopped turning cartwheels.

Really, Jin Ling thought while pointedly not staring at xiao shushu Jin Guangyao Meng Yao, his behaviour and comportment was downright commendable – jiujiu ought to see it, maybe he’d stop insisting on a dry rehearsal every time Jin Ling had to host so much as a bi-annual Jin meetup.

Then again, Jin meetups had always been the worst, especially once shushu hadn’t been around anymore to keep everybody in line. Last autumn, two of the minor sect leaders from the North of the Jin territories had gotten into a fistfight over which kind of sauce ought to go with the closing banquet’s fish dish, for heaven’s sake! And uncle called him a child…

Now that he thought about it, Jin Ling was starting to feel positively good about the journey ahead. He could do this! Who cared that Jin Meng Yao looked far too much like himself, only a head shorter?

“We hope the journey will be pleasant, and we hope to get better acquainted while – “

In the middle of this barrage of meaningless pleasantries – he’d watched his shushu dole those out often enough, thank you – he was suddenly interrupted by a loud cough.

“Actually, we have just been informed of” – there was a pause as Sizhui seemed to be searching for words – “urgent business that we need to attend to.”

Jin Ling, still riding his self-confidence high, stuttered to a stop. “Urgent business?” Not the most diplomatic way to interrupt himself, but really? And Sizhui, of all people?

Sizhui’s brow was twitching, and Jin Ling realised he was trying to wink surreptitiously but was woefully out of practice. If he’d ever been in practice for that sort of thing. “You know the… the thing!” The twitching got worse. It looked like it actually hurt.

As soon as this was over, Jin Ling was going to check him for fever. And teach him to lie better, because that? Was just pathetic.

Still, now that he’d been given an out, he wasn’t exactly averse to capitalising on it. It wasn’t like he wanted to spend the next couple of days rubbing elbows with his dead-not-dead shushu, especially since he still hadn’t worked out how angry he should be at him for the whole Guanyin Temple disaster. Pretty angry, he was sure, but at the same time – it had been easy to be angry at him and not think any further of it when he was dead, but now, when he hadn’t even done anything yet? A whole different story.

Besides, there was this whole business of decimating Wen Ruohan and his sons that he could be helping his jiujiu with instead.

Jin Ling forced himself to smile pleasantly, reminding himself that no matter what, he couldn’t be worse at it than jiujiu. Two pointedly diplomatic smiles answered him. Or maybe Jin Ling had it all wrong and that was actually Meng Yao’s natural facial expression.

And his mother’s natural facial expression.

In fact, the resemblance was a bit uncanny.

Forcing that weirdness from his mind, Jin Ling pushed his shoulders back and tried to reclaim command of the conversation. “My apologies. As my friend has pointed out, we do in fact have a prior commitment.” He stopped a moment to gauge the mood of his audience. Meng Shi didn’t move a muscle, face locked into a picture of pleasant calm, but Jin Ling could make out the slightest twitch on Meng Yao’s face. It was the same twitch that he’d always had when he’d caught Jin Ling in a lie as a child, and seeing it wasn’t exactly reassuring.

Jin Ling found his mouth had suddenly gone dry and he swallowed, thankful both were far too polite to call him out publicly – though he didn’t kid himself that all the money they’d received the previous day probably didn’t hurt. From the corner of his eye, he could see Sizhui twist his hands into the sleeves of his robe as if he himself couldn’t believe what he’d done and needed to reassure himself that he was, in fact, still there and hadn’t, presumably, gone off to the place bad little Lan’s went. Or whatever else they told naughty children in the Cloud Recesses – at Koi Tower and Lotus Pier, it had been “down the steps” or “into the lake” respectively, though he’d never understood what was supposed to be so scary about the lake, considering the children spent most of their time in there in summer anyway.

Before the silence could become any more strained, he dropped that thought and returned his focus to the conversation at hand. “We will, of course, be following you to the Cloud Recesses as soon as possible.” Jin Ling’s eyes wandered to the side, where he did his best to spear Sizhui with his jiujiu’s patented “Or else!”-glare. Sizhui let go of his sleeves and cringed back a little.

Good. That meant he’d done it right.

Somehow, Jin Ling managed to hand the two Mengs back into the carriage without any further social missteps or interfering friends. He almost breathed a sigh of relief before he realised he’d forgotten to stuff the child menace in after them. Thankfully, Xue Yang clambered up into the carriage with a lot less fuss than anybody had expected, sitting down and accepting his bundle of new clothes as it was handed up to him; maybe he was as glad to get rid of them as they were to get rid of him. Either way, it was all for the good as Jin Ling really didn’t feel like getting into a fight with a little kid. Or at least, definitely not in front of his future shushu and his mother.

No, he had bigger fish to fry.

As soon as the carriage had driven out of earshot, Jin Ling rounded on Sizhui: “What was that about?”

“Yeah, what urgent business?” Jin Ling took a moment to be grateful that Zizhen seemed to be as out of the loop as him. Even Jingyi was looking at Sizhui oddly.

Sizhui looked back at them, the most flustered Jin Ling had ever seen him – excluding various life-or-death scenarios –, then he seemed to gather himself and opened his mouth to speak. “I –“

“We’re going after them, aren’t we?”

Jin Ling whipped around as a child’s voice piped up behind them. Next to him, Jingyi swore in surprise.

Zizhen was the first of them to find his voice again. “What are you still doing here?” While he was speaking, Jin Ling’s eyes were drawn to the path the carriage had disappeared down, but it was long out of sight by now.

Xue Yang crossed his arms over his puffed-out chest. “I’m not going to keep sitting in a stupid carriage just because you say so. Also, your jiujiu promised me more sweets! You’re going to follow him, aren’t you? I heard you earlier!”

Having delivered his little speech with the utmost conviction, Xue Yang glared at them while they recovered. Jin Ling couldn’t help but remember the Xue Yang they’d met in Yi City. He’d been a lot more menacing and a lot less… cute.

Jin Ling gave a full-body shudder – heaven help him, this time travel business was going to ruin him, he just knew it.

“Soooo?”, Xue Yang ventured when they didn’t say anything for a good while, pulling out the ‘o’ as if it were dumpling dough. This made it much easier for Jin Ling to remind himself that, in addition to plain annoying, the little kid in front of them was actually a deadly terror.

He turned to the others. “I say we take him back to the carriage. They can’t have gone far.”

He was met with a round of agreement while Xue Yang’s eyes grew wide in outrage. “You can’t do that! If you do, I’ll run away again!”

“If you do that, you’ll never get your sweets.” Ah, Sizhui was apparently opting for the “logic” approach. Commendable, though overly optimistic as far as Jin Ling was concerned.

As if to agree with him, the kid glared at them even more belligerently and changed his strategy. “Take me back, and I’ll tell Madam Meng that you’re up to something. I know you are!”

“…we could just leave you here, you know.” Zizhen obviously still held a grudge because of A-Qing. Jin Ling could relate, so he echoed the sentiment. “Yes, see how you like that!”

Xue Yang took a few moments to rally himself, small hands clenching into fists angrily, and Jin Ling’s feelings of moral righteousness deflated when he remembered they were arguing with a literal child.

He took a moment to be grateful jiujiu wasn’t here to see it.

Xue Yang’s thoughts were apparently going in a similar direction. “And what are you going to tell Jiang dashu if I’m gone? Ha!”

Jin Ling felt his mouth fall open. “Hey! He’s my jiujiu, you don’t get to call him that!”

“Do too!”

“No, you don’t!”

Xue Yang blew him a raspberry in answer, which was about the point Jin Ling reminded himself, once again, of the indignity of arguing with a boy not old enough to have graduated from training swords. Calling on his mediation training and taking a few deep breaths, he restricted himself to an icy glare back.

It must not have worked, for Xue Yang’s face lit up in triumph at not receiving further pushback. Jin Ling took another deep breath and managed to ignore the overwhelming urge to strangle him. Was this what raising children felt like? No wonder jiujiu was always talking about breaking legs. Seriously, who’d have thought Xue Yang would have been so annoying even before he’d turned into a vicious murderer? He was going to make jiujiu pay for saddling him with the kid!

“We can still just get him back to the carriage…” Zizhen pointed out, but even he didn’t seem convinced of what he was saying.

“Then I’m just going to get back out again!”, Xue Yang announced, changing his plans once again. He was thoroughly ignored.

“Maybe we should all calm down a little?” Jingyi sounded uncharacteristically lost, and Jin Ling decided he’d probably never been this blindsided by Sizhui before. Not that Jin Ling could blame him. He’d laugh about it later, but for now, he had more important things to do with his time.

“We can’t take him back. We’ll barely catch up with jiujiu as it is!” Jin Ling stepped away from the others and looked around. They were all packed up from when they were going to follow the carriage back to the Cloud Recesses – good. Now which route had jiujiu said they were going to take? There were several that led to the ruins of Nightless City. Or, well, to Nightless City, Jin Ling supposed, considering it hadn’t been destroyed yet.

“Which way do you think they went?”, he asked aloud, turning back to the others and resisting the urge to pull out his sword and simply start flying. Someone was going to have to take Xue Yang along, he realised.

Uggh.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to dump him on the Mengs after all?

“It doesn’t matter.” Sizhui was staring ahead determinedly, which ought to have alerted Jin Ling to the fact that something wasn’t going as he was expecting, but he was too busy trying to figure out whether jiujiu would insist on taking the short cut over Mount Ema, almost too cold to fly even in summer, or one of the longer routes to the East or West where they’d have the chance to stop for supplies. And then his brain caught up to what Sizhui had just said.

“What do you mean, it doesn’t matter?”

“Obviously he means they’re taking the Western route. Hanguang-Jun is much too smart to risk Mount Ema, and there’s that funny story about him and that swamp on the Eastern route where –“

Despite the fact that Jin Ling had never heard that story, he had to stop Jingyi there. “But the Western route is the slowest! You can’t really think –“

“It’s not like one or two days more is going to matter. “

“Didn’t you listen to Wei-jiu? Of course it matters, we’re going to die in a couple of days if we don’t get this done soon!”

“Wait, what?” Xue Yang blurted out, but nobody paid him any attention.

Sizhui had apparently had enough at this point. “I’m not talking about routes! It doesn’t matter because we’re not following them. We’re not going after Hanguang-Jun, Wei-gongzi or Sandu Shengshou.” He said, talking straight over the other three boys.

Jin Ling looked at his friend in surprise but quickly schooled his features back into something more becoming. Xiao shushu had always been very insistent that one must look their best at all times. Jin Ling hadn’t quite mastered it yet, but he was trying. Well, he’d been trying before shushu had turned out to be evil. After that, he hadn’t been so sure he should listen to anything the man had ever taught him. Which was, admittedly, rather difficult, considering he’d taught him a lot. And now they were here and shushu was younger than him and could he just say, this entire situation was very confusing.

Speaking of things that were confusing…

“What do you mean, we’re not going after them?” Jin Ling said, his voice lost in the cacophony of the other boys asking the same question. Even Xue Yang had chimed in.

“I mean, we’re going somewhere else.”

“And where?” Jin Ling wasn’t sure who’d spoken first, but it didn’t matter, since they all wanted to know the same thing. He wondered whether the Lan rule to not talk across other people applied in such situations, but then again, he wasn’t even a Lan, so why should he care?

Sizhui visibly steeled himself before he looked up into their faces.

“We’re going to see my family.”

Clearly, he was expecting this announcement to be treated with gravity, but it was mostly met with confusion.

“…but then we’d be following the Mengs back home to the Cloud Recesses, like we were supposed to?” Jingyi finally ventured, looking as lost as Jin Ling felt.

Returning their confused expressions with a grim one, Sizhui shook his head. “I’m not talking about the Cloud Recesses. I’m talking about my Wen family.”

Well, Jin Ling mused, at least he wasn’t going to be the only one the adults were mad at for going off plan.

Somewhere up in the air and further North, Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji all sneezed at the same time.

It was the second day of their search, and they weren’t having any more luck. Jiang Cheng blamed it on the mountains. And the trees. And the tiny little bathing pools. Really, the entire countryside here was unhelpful – what was wrong with nice, large rivers and lakes that you could punt along and look inland? The rivers here were all shallow, the riverbeds steep and full of rocks, the current speeding downhill so fast he’d barely have trusted a paper boat to them.

No, he wasn’t missing home, water was just an inherently superior method of transportation!

Jiang Cheng also blamed their predicament on his brother and the Lan interloper, who were both much too busy gazing at each other and, most of all, into each other’s eyes to contribute anything of value to their search, leaving the bulk of the work up to him and the peacock.

At least the Lan elders hadn’t noticed they’d been out disregarding their orders yet. A-Jie had, of course, and she’d given them a look of disapproval that had stung worse than any training hit when they’d explained where they’d been. It had almost been enough to make him promise not to go out again, but then he’d recalled the absolute gall of those imposters and the words had frozen in his throat, even if his stomach had rebelled at the thought of disappointing A-Jie.

At least he could be reasonably sure A-Jie wouldn’t rat them out. Probably.

So, barring any sisterly complications, they were back in the outer reaches of the Lan compound, having successfully evaded the guards once again. Jiang Cheng had thought he’d known all his brother’s tricks, but apparently he’d been wrong. It was hard to tell what with his immovable face, but Jiang Cheng was reasonably certain that even Lan Wangji had looked briefly surprised at the route Wei Wuxian had taken to smuggle them all past the inner circle of the compound. Then again, how to best break the Lan rules was probably not a topic he’d ever thought about for any length of time, and Jiang Cheng knew for a fact Wei Wuxian definitely had. Probably had made notes on it too, come to think of it.

What those two saw in each other was an absolute mystery to Jiang Cheng, but whatever it was, they were at it again, each staring soulfully at the other and speaking in small whispers from time to time. About what, Jiang Cheng didn’t know. He’d enquired – loudly – , but after being shushed and the ensuing argument about that, Wei Wuxian had said some nonsense about discussing one Lan rule or another, which was clearly meant to throw him off. So Jiang Cheng had done the only thing he could – scowled at his brother and threatened to cuff him around the head – and they’d continued their hike further up the mountain, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji falling right back to it. Which left him with only the peacock for company. It had gotten so bad that he’d been forced to make awkward small talk with the other sect heir if he didn’t want to spend the morning in complete silence.

As it was, Jiang Cheng could now definitively say that, much like most people who hadn’t grown up in Yunmeng, the peacock had no idea of proper food. The only thing they’d agreed on was that the Lan way of seasoning – namely, bestowing no flavour on any dish whatsoever – was a culinary farce, but he wasn’t going to give the peacock any points for the basic feat of having working tastebuds.

He still couldn’t believe he’d been reduced to arguing about food with Jin Zixuan, of all people. Fate was definitely laughing at him.

It was almost midday now, and the clouds that had obscured the valley for most of the morning were finally lifting. At least, Jiang Cheng thought darkly, that meant they had a chance of finding their way home now without Lan Wangji leading the way, not that he’d ever have admitted to being lost in these hills that all looked the same in the fog.

By the time the sun was burning down at them from its zenith, Jiang Cheng had given up on trying to teach the peacock the finer points of proper cuisine – not that the lout would appreciate the lesson – and just hoped they were going to find something, anything, soon. Up front, Wei Wuxian let out one of his cascading laughs, and Jiang Cheng looked up from where he’d been scowling into the undergrowth, trying to see any signs that somebody had been through here recently. What were they doing now? Were they making fun of him? His eyes met Jin Zixuan’s across the path, and a brief look of commiseration passed between them, causing Jiang Cheng to shudder and look away quickly. At this rate, he was going to start bonding with the peacock, and then where would he be?

At the front of their little group, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were staring longingly into each other’s eyes for the umpteenth time that day. Jiang Cheng heroically stopped himself from falling to his knees and screaming to the heavens in frustration. The next time Wei Wuxian or anyone else claimed he had no control and needed to calm down, he was going to bring up this moment, making any further discussion moot and forcing them to concede that he was, in fact, a paragon of restraint.

He was still trying to glare holes into Lan Wangji’s back fifteen minutes later when they came to a fork in the path. Jiang Cheng watched him first look down the way on the right, which led further up the mountain next to a gurgling brook, then the other way, which disappeared into a canopy of trees almost immediately. Then he grabbed Wei Wuxian’s hand as if he had any right to do so and dragged him off to the left. “Split up now”, he bit out – and Jiang Cheng really would like to know why the other junior cultivator treated every word like it hurt – before pulling a clearly not resisting Wei Wuxian along into the forest. In fact, Jiang Cheng was fairly certain that the expression his brother wore when he turned around to call out a short “See you later!” could be described as fairly delighted.

Jiang Cheng glowered into the trees after them until he realised that his brother would not, in fact, return immediately and apologize for abandoning him for Lan Wangji. He was about to glower after them some more – just for good measure – when he felt a hand touch his shoulder, prompting him to turn his back on the path the traitor had disappeared down.

“Shall we?” the peacock said, cocking his head in the most arrogantly peacock-ish way imaginable and pointing at the path leading further up the mountain.

Yes, Jiang Cheng decided, he’d been right. Fate clearly hated him.

Chapter Text

Meng Shi looked at the curtains forming the door of the carriage as they flapped in the breeze after the boy had jumped out and seriously considered whether she had eaten something bad and this whole experience was merely a dream brought on by indigestion. He’d been such an odd boy too – fingernails encrusted with enough dirt she could tell at a glance it would take weeks to scrub out but clothes new and clean as could be.

Then again, those had been very strange people.

A-Yao looked at her, puzzlement clear on his face though she could tell he was trying to suppress it – she supposed she could let that slide, considering all that had passed in the last twenty-four hours. There was preparing your child for life, and there was… this. Whatever this was.

She’d once been paid to attend an orgy involving a barrel of carp, entirely too much leather string, and old head of cabbage and three bushels of peonies, and it had been a less confusing situation. That time, they’d kept and fried the fish afterwards. She couldn’t help but think that this time, if they weren’t careful, she and her son would be the fish.

She’d make damned sure that even if that turned out to be true, she and A-Yao wouldn’t end the same way as those carp had.

“Mother, do you think we should…?”

Meng Shi shook her head once exactly. “No. Whatever is going on there, we won’t get involved. Now please pull the curtains shut.”

Her son complied immediately, since he was a good boy, unlike the child who’d just left them so abruptly. That boy had only shared the carriage with them for a minute, yet she had immediately been able to tell that he had no manners at all. Of course, the fact that he’d been eying her jewellery as if calculating how much of it fit into his pockets hadn’t helped.

As if. She might be frail now, but she’d grown up in the streets before her beauty had provided her with another career path, and she knew all the tricks. Besides, if push came to shove, she was confident A-Yao could take him. Even if he might have need to dip into the lessons the bullies in the back streets had taught him, rather than the far too few lessons received from proper instructors she could barely afford despite them being more befitting of his rank of birth.

The point was, she was more afraid of his sticky fingers than of what those sticky fingers might attempt to do – even as she’d watched, the boy had fished a piece of candy out of his pocket and plopped it into his mouth without any attempt to keep the sweet’s juices from staining his hands. She only had the two silk dresses, and depending on how the next few weeks played out, they might soon be in need of additional funds.

It all depended on what exactly Jin Zilan had lied about, since Jin Zilan – if that was even his name – had undoubtedly lied about something. For one, she’d never heard of a Jin Zilan in her son’s generation even though she’d made every effort to keep current on the news coming out of Lanling. At least she was positive he was actually a member of the Jin family – that level of natural arrogance couldn’t be faked, and she’d met plenty of arrogant men over the years. She’d even seen it in her son from time to time, though she’d made sure he knew to hide it when it counted. After all, she’d told him, he would be able to flaunt it all he wanted once his father invited him to Koi Tower.

Over the last few months, she’d privately started doubting that day would ever come, but now fate had presented her with the perfect opportunity to turn around their fortunes in the guise of the boy calling himself Jin Zilan. He may be what he said he was, he may be a fraud, but either way, he’d given her and her son their freedom and set them on the path east. The Charming Traveller’s gossip mill had confirmed his words that Jin Zixuan, heir to the Jin Sect, was currently receiving instruction at the Cloud Recesses. If whatever intrigue Jin Zilan was cooking up wasn’t to her liking, and A-Yao’s father continued to show no interest in him… well, she was sure her son was wily enough to gain his brother’s favour of his own accord. After all, she’d taught him well, and he was a remarkably quick study – truly her pride and joy.

Maybe it was all for the best that Jin Zilan and his friends wouldn’t be joining them immediately.

Meng Shi sat up, turning her gaze forward to the road ahead. As she did so, the piece of parchment representing her and her son’s future crinkled in the wide sleeve of her dress. She couldn’t help the feeling of butterflies in her stomach – or maybe that was just the result of skipping breakfast. She should have listened to her son; she couldn’t afford to skip meals with her health as it was. Though she knew she needn’t worry – they’d be able to buy something on the road with the stipend their benefactors had so generously provided.

If this was a dream, it was a pretty sweet one.

Chapter Text

The next time his brother suggested a detour, Jiang Cheng grouched to himself as he pulled his robes out of the way of another puddle, he was not going to go with it without serious consideration whether it sounded like a good idea or not.

Even if it was probably for the best to take care of the Xuanwu early, just in case something went wrong – though the first time around the two of them on their own had managed well enough, and without any weapons to boot, so how hard could it be?

Not that anything was going to go wrong. And with Wen Ruohan out of the way – well, things ought to turn out very differently.

So there really was absolutely no need for them to spend an entire afternoon of their preciously short time here wandering through a damp, dark cave. He didn’t remember the way to the Xuanwu being this long the first time around, but then again, wondering whether they were all going to soon be summarily executed might have influenced his recollection. In the here and now, he made the mistake putting his hand on the cave wall while rounding a corner, causing it to almost immediately sink into the damp moss growling everywhere, brackish water welling out between his fingers. He snatched it back, starting to rub the moisture off on his inner robes before remembering he only had the one change of clothes he’d brought along in his qiankun bag when dropping Jin Ling off at the Cloud Recesses several decades from now.

Shaking the water off his hand instead, he glared darkly at his surroundings and wondered what he’d done to deserve ending up in this place, again. As if the previous times hadn’t been bad enough.

At least nobody was actively trying to kill them yet. If they were lucky, things would even stay that way until they found the Xuanwu.

Now that he thought about it, it was odd how insistent his brother had been that they come here and tie up that loose end. Sure, it was probably best if they arrived in Nightless City fresh and in top fighting form, but they could have touched down anywhere in the vicinity to get a good night’s sleep; there was no need to fit in this particular errand first. Now that they were actually here and traversing the cave system, Jiang Cheng was beginning to suspect his brother had ulterior motives.

Which made it all the more ridiculous that the first thing they’d done after arriving was get themselves well and truly lost. On the other hand, stone walls generally had the habit of looking the same in the dark, so perhaps Wei Wuxian did know where he was leading them. Jiang Cheng certainly wouldn’t draw attention to the fact that he didn’t know the way by asking.

After another half an hour of trudging through the near darkness, Jiang Cheng finally thought he was starting to recognise the area – of course, he mused darkly, that might also be because they were walking in circles. He was about to complain as much to Wei Wuxian when the cave floor broke off in front of their feet, giving way to the steep decline and underground lake Jiang Cheng remembered from their first visit.

Ah, now there were some not-so-fond memories.

Jiang Cheng’s preternatural cultivator’s reflexes saved him from going careening down into the dark, only next to him Wei Wuxian didn’t have that luxury. Automatically reaching out for the back of his brother’s robes, Jiang Cheng’s hand collided with Lan Wangji’s, and they both managed to snatch just enough fabric to halt Wei Wuxian’s momentum before he took a plunge. Then, as if to add insult to injury, when Jiang Cheng glared over at Lan Wangji, he found the other two man wrapped up in their own little world, neither of them paying him the slightest attention.

Oh yes, it had been a horrible idea to come here. He could be off slaughtering Wens right now instead of watching those two gaze soulfully into each other’s eyes!

Before the two of them completely forgot themselves and started making out in front of him – which would force Jiang Cheng to give up on life and willingly present himself to the Xuanwu as an appetiser – he loudly cleared his throat. “I know this must be bringing up some tender memories, but could we please focus on the task at hand?” His voice echoed around the cave much louder than he’d intended, and Jiang Cheng had to stop himself from cringing back from the noise. Or possibly from the memory of the drunken night with his brother where he’d learned that particular detail.

To cover for the movement, he crouched down and used the torch he was carrying to bring some light into the abyss before them. The light struggled bravely against the darkness as it crept down, falling on jagged rocks jutting out from the cliffside and managing to only just illuminate the narrow strip of sand bordering the Xuanwu’s lake. Jiang Cheng swallowed as he remembered Wen Chao throwing his brother off the side into the darkness, then pulled himself together and got ready to jump.

Before he could execute this plan, Wei Wuxian’s hand landed on his shoulder. “We probably shouldn’t tell it we’re coming.”

Jiang Cheng whirled around, remembering only at the last moment to lower his voice. “Are you saying I don’t know how to be stealthy?”

“I’m saying this will go a lot smoother if we can stab the Xuanwu while it’s still asleep!”

Jiang Cheng was about to counter that it had taken a full-blown brawl involving several dozen cultivators to wake it up last time when there was a soft thud. He looked around and found someone was missing. “Where did your husband go?”

It turned out said husband was already halfway down the cliff. Wei Wuxian, of course, immediately forgot that he’d been berating Jiang Cheng for exactly the same kind of behaviour and instead looked down at Lan Wangji like a puppy left behind at the store.

Jiang Cheng felt that the difference in response was rather unfair, though the thought that his brother would have absolutely hated the comparison was something of a consolation.

By now, Lan Wangji had arrived at the bottom of the cliff, and Wei Wuxian hurried after him.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, wait for me!”

Jiang Cheng spent a moment longer up top, glaring down at Lan Wangji – who was still not sparing him a single look, which didn’t do anything at all for his temper – before following behind. Soon, they’d all arrived on the shore of the Xuanwu’s lake. The water was still, not even the smallest of waves stirring in the dim torchlight. Somewhere near the middle they could see the innocuous rocky island of the Xuanwu’s shell rise out of the water. Jiang Cheng felt his heartbeat speed up – he’d missed his chance the first time, but this time his brother (and that brothernapping Lan Wangji) wouldn’t get all the glory!

Well, ideally there’d be no glory – after all, nobody was supposed to find out they’d done this – but it was the principle of the thing!

“You remember the plan?” Jiang Cheng had to swallow before he got the words out, his mouth gone suddenly dry.

Beside him, he felt more than saw his brother roll his eyes as he whispered back. “Yes. We’ve done this before, remember? You’re the one who has to catch up!"

Before Jiang Cheng could splutter an answer – and probably blow their element of surprise – Wei Wuxian was gone, melting into the darkness. Since his brother wasn’t there anymore, Jiang Cheng glared into the darkness instead and stalked off to the side of the beach he’d need to be on for their plan to work. He made sure the ground beneath him wasn’t going to flood the first time the Xuanwu raised its ugly head and settled in. On the opposite side of the beach, Lan Wangji kept busy scaling the lower part of the rockface until he was able to jump across to one of the boulders jutting out of the lake, then slowly and stealthily unwound and readied a guqin string he’d pulled out from somewhere.

Without noticing it, Jiang Cheng stroked his thumb over Zidian in response. He still couldn’t believe how lucky those two had gotten the first time. No wonder Wei Wuxian had never told him exactly how that fight had gone down!

He took a deep breath and reminded himself that these thoughts were a distraction, and distractions tended to get one killed in battle. Then he took another deep breath and settled into his battle stance, concentrating on the darkness around him and the soft sounds of the waves lapping onto the shore. After a moment, he realised that the soft droning sound he heard underneath must be the breathing of the Xuanwu, and he gripped Sandu tighter, remembering how large it had seemed in those few flashes he’d seen of it before he’d had to concentrate on getting everyone out through the underwater tunnels.

They’d left a torch burning on the beach where they’d entered from above, but even with that light to guide him, he could barely make out the peak of the Xuanwu’s shell rising from the water. A pang of worry shot through him – his brother didn’t even have the benefit of cultivation-enhanced eyesight anymore! – and he ruthlessly dismissed it as another distraction from the business at hand.

After what seemed like way too long, a sudden splash finally came from deeper in the cave, and Jiang Cheng felt himself go still. For a moment, there was no reaction. Then the giant shell was suddenly obscured by something long and thin rising out of the water immediately in front of it, golden eyes the size of his forearm blinking open and glinting like oversized dinner plates. Over on his boulder, Lan Wangji readied his cord. The Xuanwu’s neck whipped around as it caught on that something was amiss in its cave. Jiang Cheng had a moment to steel his resolve – the beast was even huger than he’d imagined! – and then he was off, using his sword to whip over the water as fast as he could and landing on one of the big, moss-covered plates that made up the Xuanwu’s shell. The Xuanwu reared its head around again at the muted thump, but before it could complete the turn, Lan Wangji’s cord snared it from the side, restricting its movement. Jiang Cheng was close enough now to see its eyes flare up with anger, and then he was past the head, pivoting around one foot as soon as he landed to strike back. Impossibly sharp teeth were coming in to snap at him, but he was ready, parrying them with Sandu, the sword clanging off the beast’s teeth with Zidian flashing in its wake, taking a patch of scaly grey skin off the monster’s check.

The Xuanwu roared in anger, diving in for another strike at him. Lan Wangji, who’d been waiting for such an opportunity, pulled the cord taught, cutting the beast’s roar short and giving Jiang Cheng a moment to reorient himself. The Xuanwu’s shell beneath him swooped up and down with every movement the beast made, and for a second, he was reminded of the endless dinners he was subjected to at Discussion Conferences.

Even with a cultivator’s constitution, there was only so much alcohol you could ingest before you got decidedly sloshed.

The shell rocked and roiled again, threatening to pitch Jiang Cheng off into the dark waters below, and he centered himself back in the moment, lashing out at the Xuanwu’s thick, leathery neck with his sword and Zidian. The Xuanwu screamed as he scored a hit, leaving a deep furrow trailing black, sludgy blood down the side of its face behind. Spurred on by this small victory, Jiang Cheng leapt back to the relative safety of the shell when he suddenly noticed his brother’s conspicuous absence in the fray. He shot a quick look around, careful not to give the Xuanwu an opening, but he couldn’t see Wei Wuxian anywhere. Even odder, Lan Wangji, still steadfastly holding on to the cord, didn’t seem like he was at all alarmed by this.

Considering that the eternal stickler acted like a mother hen around Wei Wuxian these days, the fact that he hadn’t already swarmed out to rescue him from wherever he’d managed to end up didn’t fill Jiang Cheng with the warm fuzzies. No, it could only mean one thing: He’d been right – Wei Wuxian was up to something.

If Wei Wuxian had managed to send them all to the past only to get himself killed, Jiang Cheng was going to strangle him! Even if he had to somehow find a way to send himself back even further to accomplish it.

The Xuanwu made another pass at him, and this time Jiang Cheng caught exactly the right timing and angle to gouge out its left eye, making the beast it even uglier – a feat he hadn’t been aware was possible. It let out an enormous roar of pain and anger, and Jiang Cheng used the distraction to scan his surroundings once again for his missing brother.

There! A flash of black robes, disappearing underneath the Xuanwu’s shell. Jiang Cheng had no idea what his brother was doing in there, but it couldn’t be anything good. His mind made up, he jumped down from his exposed position at the nape of the Xuanwu’s neck and followed him.

As soon as he slipped underneath the Xuanwu’s shell, he was hit in the face by a wall of foul, sticky air smelling of rot so strongly he had to stop himself from gagging. What the fuck was Wei Wuxian doing down here?

Apparently, he must have spoken aloud, because moments later the man in question poked his head around a corpse hanging down from the ceiling – charming – to do a double-take. “Jiang Cheng, what are you doing down here?”

“Me? What are you doing here! You’re supposed to help me finish off this thing, not crawl around in its innards!” As he spoke, the Xuanwu gave a lurch and screamed again, the motion almost sending both of them into the nearest wall and raining something slimy down on them.

Jiang Cheng considered looking down to check what it was but decided against it. He almost missed the damp but undeniably ordinary moss from the cave proper.

“Oh, nothing, there’s just… this thing I have to do…” Wei Wuxian shifted his eyes cagily as he spoke, reminding Jiang Cheng of nothing so much as the times they’d been caught stealing sweet steamed buns from the kitchens as children. He decided then and there that he was not having it.

“Wei Wuxian! You are going to tell me what we are doing here this instance, or so help me –“ He could have gone on, but his threats were swallowed by another ear-splitting scream, and anyway, he was pretty sure Wei Wuxian got the idea by now.

As soon as they’d both righted themselves again – Jiang Cheng finding himself elbow-deep in what had clearly once been a man’s ribcage, and he hadn’t signed up for that, no thank you – he was ready to continue laying into his brother when a miracle happened: Wei Wuxian backed down. “Fine. But we have to be quick, and whatever happens, don’t touch it!”

Jiang Cheng blinked at the sudden turn of events, then hurried to follow his brother – this thing was even larger from the inside than from the outside! “Don’t touch what?” Trying to not lose sight of the other man, he rounded a corner and was almost struck in the face by another dangling corpse - just how many people had decided to crawl around in here anyway? Or did the Xuanwu stuff its dead enemies under its shell, like some sort of trophy room?

Swerving to avoid the unpleasant obstacle, Jiang Cheng rounded a corner and almost ran into his brother, who’d stopped in front of… a sword?

“What…”

Wei Wuxian ignored his puzzlement and stepped closer to the sword sticking out of the ground. “It’s fine, A-Cheng. I just need to get this and then we can leave.”

Jiang Cheng stepped around his brother, trying to see his face and ending up on the opposite side of the sword from him. “What are you talking about?”, he tried again.

Instead of answering, his brother started wrapping his hands with strips of cloth he’d pulled from his qiankun bag, all the while continuing to stare at the strange sword. “We can’t let the Wen Sect have this, so I’ll have to take it but don’t worry, I’ll be smarter about it than last time.”

“Last time?” Jiang Cheng echoed, feeling increasingly out of his depth. He didn’t like feeling out of his depth. Wei Wuxian didn’t even seem to be hearing him, and it infuriated Jiang Cheng even further. Clearly, his brother wasn’t going to listen to his words. Well then, he’d just have to do something to get his attention.

“What are you even talking about?”, he roared, and at the same time reached out to get his hands on the sword before his brother could – maybe then, he’d finally get a proper answer!

His hands closed around the hilt, and immediately his mind was assaulted by horrible visions, shrill screams beating against his eardrums. A wave of resentment so thick it almost blotted out thought rolled over him.

And then it was over, his fingers having let go of the thing – he couldn’t call it a sword, it didn’t deserve to be called such – of their own accord, his own harsh breaths ringing in his ears. Mind still half gone, he stumbled back a step, trying to reorient himself when his gaze fell on Wei Wuxian, concern in his eyes. The gall!

“Wei Wuxian! You will tell me what this thing is this very moment!” As if to punctuate his own shouts, the Xuanwu screeched once more in the background, the ground lurching, but Jiang Cheng almost didn’t notice it with senses still reeling.

“Jiang Cheng, I can explain…”

“Yes you can, and you’ll start explaining right now!” Jiang Cheng was starting to feel as if he was on a roll when a thought struck him. “Is this why we’re here? What is wrong with you!”

Now, if Jiang Cheng had been paying attention to anything but his own anger, or if he hadn’t been distracted by the lingering disorientation from what had just happened, he might have noticed the change in Wei Wuxian’s demeanour sooner.

Unfortunately, he didn’t, so it was only when he stopped his tirade to get a breath in – and to steady himself against the continuing shaking of the floor underneath him – that Wei Wuxian cut in, looking a lot less cowered than he would have liked, and he realised he might have misjudged the situation.

“Fine, you can rail at me all you want later, but I’m taking the sword and we’re getting out of here now.” While he’d been speaking, he’d finished wrapping the cloth strips from earlier around his hands, and once he finished that he gingerly took the sword and tied another long swath of cloth around it that Jiang Cheng hadn’t even realised he had.

Jiang Cheng himself was still gaping at his brother like a guppy at this point. He only recovered when Wei Wuxian was already halfway across the room. By this time, of course, he was more than aware that he’d lost that particular argument – but spirits get him if he was going to admit it!

“Hey! I was talking to you!” He ran after his brother, dodging the occasional unsavoury puddle or ceiling ornament until he was close enough to snag one black sleeve. “You can’t take that thing, it’s evil!”

Wei Wuxian ripped himself free and whirled around to face his brother, and Jiang Cheng was sure he was going to spout some nonsense about how he could use the resentment in that thing for good – as if! – when both of them were propelled to opposite sides of the inner shell by a huge boulder crashing through from the outside.

Jiang Cheng jumped back up as fast as he could, his entire left side coated in something sticky – he hadn’t seen exactly what it was that had broken his fall, though whatever it was, it smelled even worse than the rest of this place – and blinked the stars out of his eyes just in time to see a giant, malevolent eye glare at him from much too close up. He blinked again, and the razor-sharp teeth inches from his chest came into focus.

Oh. Not a boulder. A head.

For a moment, Jiang Cheng didn’t know whether he should be proud or worried that he’d pissed off the Xuanwu enough that it had apparently missed him and gone looking.

Then, reality asserted itself, and he barely managed to dodge the teeth snapping at him by a hair, assisted by what was apparently an extremely well-timed tug on the cord still wrapped around the Xuanwu’s neck on Lan Wangji’s part.

Jiang Cheng could hear Wei Wuxian pulling himself together somewhere on the opposite side of the beast’s head. Its single remaining eye flickered towards his brother, and that was when Jiang Cheng knew he had to do something, right now. He was not going to let his brother be spun into some sort of slime cocoon by a giant monster.

Even if he was really, really annoying. And apparently in the habit of carrying off fantastically evil swords.

Now, Jiang Cheng was known all over the cultivation world as a skilled, ruthless fighter, and for good reason. However, in this moment? He was simply extremely, incandescently angry. Angry at the world for sending him back to this time when he’d just started to make his peace after much too long. Angry at his brother for his inexplicable need to hide critical information and play around with powers he shouldn’t even touch. Angry at the Xuanwu for interrupting what had clearly been an essential conversation.

And so he did something that wasn’t particularly skilful, but definitely ruthless, and absolutely good for both stress relief and anger management.

He punched the Xuanwu straight in its one remaining, dinner-plate sized eye.

The beast howled in pain, trying to pull up and away in a panic but bumping its head into the underside of its own shell instead.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t done yet. You could say that maybe – just maybe – he’d built up a lot of stress and anger over the years.

“I was talking to my brother!”, he heard himself yell as he lashed out with Sandu, blade coming down on the Xuanwu’s neck and slicing clean through half of it.

The creature gave one last soft gurgle, its head flopping once, twice, blood spraying everywhere, before it fell to the ground and was quiet. The floor they were standing on began to list sideways.

Wei Wuxian walked up behind Jiang Cheng. “Well, it’s certainly learned its lesson now.” He reached out to put an arm around Jiang Cheng’s shoulders, then made a face when he came into contact with the disgusting ichor now covering him from head to toe.

Water was beginning to flood the cave-like structure that was – had been – the Xuanwu’s shell. Lan Wangji poked his head in from the side. “A-Ying good?”

Wei Wuxian gave him a quick grin. “Yes, I’m fine.” Turning back to Jiang Cheng, he pointedly removed his arm, various kinds of foul liquids now dripping off it slowly. “Though I think we could both very much use a bath. Good thing there’s a lake nearby!”

Jiang Cheng looked at him, something slimy slithering down the nape of his neck and into the back of his robes at the movement: “Oh, shut up.”

Crouched behind some tall grass between his friends, Jin Ling was rapidly starting to regret his life choices. Or at least the choice to not insist on talking through what they’d do once they arrived here.

“So, is this the right one?” Making sure to keep his hand within the cover of the flora surrounding them, Jingyi pointed at what must have been the twentieth hut they’d staked out. As with all the ones before this one, Sizhui shook his head.

“No, I don’t think so. I can barely remember the place, but I don’t think there was a well right next to it…”

Jin Ling forced himself not to heave a sigh. After all, he’d gotten to meet his father – even if that had been under less than ideal circumstances –, why shouldn’t Sizhui get to see his family? Only, from what Jin Ling remembered of the day Sizhui had told the other Juniors of his secret origins (and hadn't that been a shock), they’d all died before he’d even been tall enough to come up to Hanguang-Jun’s waist, and his memory of anything from that time was spottier than a silk robe after the moths had been at it.

Thus, their extended romp through the grasslands that were home to one of the Wen branch families. Until they’d come here, he’d always thought all Wens had lived among rock, flames and smoke, though now that he reflected on it there obviously had to have been Wen farmers, too.

He swatted half-heartedly at mosquito that had been buzzing around his head for the last minute. This was stupid! They could be helping jiujiu. They could be on their way back to the Cloud Recesses. He could be meeting his mother! Frustrated, Jin Ling made to roll himself up off the ground when he was pulled back down by his robes again.

“Shh! Stay down!”

Jin Ling pulled a face, but obediently sank back down into the grass. He didn’t have anywhere to go, anyway. That didn’t mean he couldn’t complain, though. “Why are we hiding again?”

“Because otherwise, if they see us checking out every home here, they’ll think we’re suspicious!”

Jin Ling sent an exasperated look Sizhui’s way. “And we’re not suspicious right now?”

“Right now, they’re not seeing us.”

“Umm, guys…”, Zizhen’s voice cut in, but Jin Ling wasn’t yet ready to abandon the conversation.

“Have you had the thought that maybe this would go faster if we didn’t have to sneak around?”

“I need time to think!”

“Really, you should pay attention to this…” Zizhen was starting to really annoy Jin Ling.

“It took us half a day to get here, how much more time do you need?”

Sizhui was starting to look kind of cross now – a feat Jin Ling was fairly sure he hadn’t ever achieved before. “We spent a lot longer getting Lianfang-Zun!”

“Guys-Xue-Yang-is-talking-to-the-people-in-the-hut.” Zizhen said without stopping for breath, and as soon as they’d parsed that sentence, the other boys’ heads whipped around.

Indeed, Xue Yang, in his shiny new robes, was standing on the stoop of the hut, conversing with a woman resting a flat-bottomed basket full of summer vegetables on her hip.

And now he was pointing in their direction. Brilliant.

“I don’t care if Sandu Shengshou likes him, if he doesn’t stop doing things like that that kid is staying here…” Zizhen muttered darkly as they all rose from the grass, the game well and truly up.

Instinctively, Jin Ling pulled his shoulders back and puffed out his chest, trying to look as if he was in the habit of sitting around next to rice fields in random backwater towns and that furthermore, that habit wasn’t anything extraordinary at all.

The woman and Xue Yang were walking in their direction now. Jin Ling had no idea what he’d told her, but so far, she was neither screaming nor running away, both of which would have been completely natural reactions to Xue Yang as far as he was concerned. Then again, right now there were probably still a few years to go before those reactions became the norm.

By the time they’d clambered back up onto the main path – Sizhui taking the lead since this had, after all, been his idea –, there was no putting off the encounter any longer. Thankfully, the woman didn’t have any objections to opening the conversation herself.

“Hello, I’m Wen Fen. Your little friend here has told me you are looking for someone?”

To his credit, Sizhui barely missed a bit, smiling at the woman pleasantly. “That’s… not untrue.”

The woman’s gaze darted from one of them to the other, eyes growing wide as she realised she wasn’t just talking to random farm boys. As the silence stretched to become uncomfortable, Sizhui found the words to continue: “We’ve come here from far away. I’ve been told I have family in these parts and I’d like to meet them.”

Jin Ling could see Sizhui fisting his hand into his robe sleeve as he wondered why the other boy hadn’t simply lied – surely he couldn’t think the Lan rules applied to this situation as well?

Who was he kidding. Of course he did.

“That’s wonderful. It would be an honour to show you the way to the manor if you are lost?”

Somehow, Sizhui kept from giving a noticeable reaction. “That won’t be necessary. We don’t want to be any trouble.”

“Nonsense, it wouldn’t be any trouble at all. At least let me show you to the market, I was going there anyway.” Without waiting for an answer, Wen Fen turned around and walked back the way she’d come from, clearly expecting them to follow. Which, after some frantic whispering during which Sizhui insisted he was not going to waste his one chance, they did.

After checking that Wen Fen was far enough ahead, Jin Ling snagged Xue Yang’s sleeve as he passed him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What? That’s what he said you were here for.” Xue Yang looked honestly confused and, now that Jin Ling thought about it, why wouldn’t he? Still…

“Don’t you think there’s a reason we didn’t want them to see us?” He started walking so they wouldn’t fall too far behind, pulling the boy after him.

“You were taking forever!” Xue Yang ripped himself loose and folded his arms. “I want to get back to Jiang dashu. He’s much nicer than you!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is –“ Wait, why were they arguing about this again? Jin Ling was really starting to hate this kid!

He let out a long breath to calm himself before continuing. “Look, you’re going to behave yourself from now on and stay put when we tell you to stay put. Understood?”

Xue Yang merely blew him a raspberry, tongue a shiny pink from the sweets he’d been eating, and ran ahead on the path to catch up with the others.

Jin Ling stifled a sigh before following. Only a few more days, he reminded himself, then he’d never have to see the menace again.

Somehow – and Jiang Cheng wasn’t entirely sure how – he’d managed to go the entire awful, horrible previous day of running around the Lan mountains with only the peacock for company without throttling said peacock. Or, alternatively, breaking his legs and running away so he couldn’t follow.

But that had been yesterday, and today he was looking forward to another day of watching Wei Wuxian moon over Lan Wangji before he was ditched and forced to spend the day with Jin Zixuan. Or rather, he was not looking forward to it. Not at all.

Therefore, he was almost glad when they left their rooms in the morning for another day of searching – really, where were those people? How were they going to achieve their nefarious plans if they weren’t even around to be found! – and, just after meeting up at the edge of the guest disciple section, ran smack dab into Lan Xichen. Or at least as smack dab as trained cultivators (or cultivators-in-training) ran into anything. At any rate, Lan Xichen was there, they were out in the open and not in their rooms as prescribed, and he had very clearly seen them.

Was in fact, very pointedly looking at them right now.

Jiang Cheng was almost relieved. Maybe that meant today he’d have some acceptable company? Not that his brother was all that acceptable – not with the way he’d taken to talking about Lan Wangji of all people given the slightest opportunity –, but he was better than the peacock. Even if they would probably be punished for sneaking out.

On second thought, maybe he wasn’t that relieved at all. Maybe, on the contrary, he was panicking.

By the time Lan Xichen opened his mouth to speak, Jiang Cheng was already mentally composing the letter he’d send to his father explaining why, exactly, they’d been expelled from the Cloud Recesses.

Which was probably one of the reasons why it took him a moment to realise that Lan Xichen wasn’t looking upon them in disapproval at all. No, in fact, he seemed to be – happy?

“Wangji, there you are! I was worried when I couldn’t find you at the jingshi.”

Jiang Cheng blinked, but no – still no disapproval incoming. Dare he hope that he hadn’t lost any chance of his father’s good opinion forever?

Now that his brain wasn’t otherwise occupied anymore, Jiang Cheng noticed that Lan Xichen wasn’t merely smiling – he was positively beaming!

“I was worried the intruders had returned or some other ill fortune had befallen you, but I see now the opposite had happened – I am so happy you have finally found friends!”

Lan Wangji, for his part, stared back at his brother, neither confirming nor denying this. “I am well”, he finally stated, inclining his head and sounding less like the words had been pried out of him by force than usual.

He must really like his brother, Jiang Cheng decided.

Wei Wuxian, not to be outdone by this effusive display of affection, beamed right back at the elder Lan brother. “We’re thrilled to be with Wangji too – he’s amazing!”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes heavenward – partly because of the ridiculousness of such a statement, partly to avoid having to see the truly besotted look Wei Wuxian was bestowing on Lan Wangji.

Previously to coming to the Cloud Recesses, Jiang Cheng had heard everywhere that Lan Xichen was an incredible cultivator, one of the most accomplished of their generation. That must have been a lie, considering that he didn’t seem to pick up anything out of the ordinary from those two at all. Instead, he simply inclined his head, oblivious to their shamelessness. “I am glad you are getting along. However, shouldn’t you be more careful?”

“Going to prepare. Need to be ready.” For somebody who acted like he’d never broken a single rule in his life, ever, before the last couple of days, Lan Wangji was sure quick to conjure up a cover story, Jiang Cheng mused.

Lan Xichen took a moment to ponder that before responding. “I will not stop you, though I would urge you to be careful. The infiltrators are still at large and might be dangerous.”

Lan Wangji managed to rip his eyes away from Wei Wuxian long enough to nod at his brother. “Understood.” That must have been enough information for Lan Xichen– or possibly the two had some secret language between themselves involving means Jiang Cheng wasn’t privy to – for the older brother nodded as well before stepping aside to let them pass.

“If anyone asks, I will tell them you are training. Now go have fun with your friends.” Jiang Cheng winced inwardly at being called a friend to both Lan Wangji and Jin Zixuan, but there was really nothing he could do unless he wanted to land them all in hot water.

Once they’d all filed past Lan Xichen without the older cultivator revoking his tacit permission, Jiang Cheng’s shoulders dropped.

And shot right back up again when Wei Wuxian turned around, shouting a much too loud “thank you” back the way they’d come.

Putting his elbow to good use, Jiang Cheng informed his brother of his displeasure. “Idiot, do you want everyone to hear us?” And what did Lan Wangji think, glaring at him like that?

“He let us go, we’re fine!” Wei Wuxian, rubbing his side, had the gall to glare right back at Jiang Cheng.

“Oh yes? And what of all the others who could see us?”

“You worry too much, A-Cheng!”

“We’re not out of the compound yet.” Wait, was that Jin Zixuan? Agreeing with him? What was this world coming to!

“You be quiet!”

“Hey, I’m on your side!”

They continued bickering until they reached the border of the compound proper, at which point Wei Wuxian grabbed an unresisting Lan Wangji’s hand and the two of them practically skipped off ahead.

Yes, Jiang Cheng been right – he was going to be alone with the peacock for the day, again.

Maybe today they’d be lucky – maybe they’d finally find their quarry, and this entire farce would come to an end.

And if they didn’t – well, when he eventually snapped and murdered the peacock, he could at least blame it on the intruders.

Chapter Text

Deep within the province of Shaanxi, three massive mountains jutted up to the sky. The old scrolls told of a time when these mountains had spewn fire and rock, almost obliterating an entire generation of cultivators and common people alike. Now they had been quiet for a thousand years or more, and only scholars and travelling singers still remembered stories of the time when rivers of red had run down the valleys, destroying everything in their path and finally pooling in the plains now abundant in vegetables and fruit and grain. So bountiful were the harvests that it was said the people there barely knew hunger, and could afford to sell a third – nay, some years even half! – of their harvest and still keep their stores full for the winter months.

A not insignificant portion of that bounty regularly went back up the valleys and mountains, back up to the three mountains where the red rivers had once come from, to feed that great behemoth of human habitation, the Nightless City. The centre of power of the Qishan Wen Sect, it was cradled by the three dormant volcanoes. At its heart lay the Scorching Sun Palace, taller than any other building and dwarfed only by the three perpetually snow-capped mountains, where the main Wen family lived and trained, surrounded by elegant buildings housing in turn scores of cultivators sworn to the main branch. In front of the Scorching Sun Palace was a big plaza, wide, shadeless steps leading down from the centre of Wen power to the very borders of the city. Separated by a wall from this oppulence lay the lower town, inhabited by common-born tradesmen and artisans. Over the centuries, it had grown bit by bit to accommodate hundreds of families, so that the entire population of the Nightless City was now estimated to number in the thousands, all fed and supplied by the fertile plains below.

As befitting a city of this size, it was never quiet, trade going on at all times of day, and – helped along by a copious amount of well-maintained public street lanterns – all times of night. The watchtowers along the city walls were manned around the clock, ever vigilant guardsmen and -women making sure that nothing was amiss within the city and without, a well-trained force garrisoned within the barracks located at the three main entrances, to mirror the three main valleys winding their way downwards between the mountains. So well protected was the Nightless City that it was said none of its citizens had gone to bed and woken up to find their home under attack in living memory.

This, it turned out, was quite a problem if one planned to sneak in and, say, partake in the assassination of a few select individuals among the leadership of the Qishan Wen. Which, incidentally, was exactly what Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian, and Lan Wangji intended to do.

They’d managed to make it through the outer walls by pretending to belong to one of the many merchant caravans passing in and out of the city during the morning rush, blankets thrown over their shoulders to disguise the distinct colours of their robes. Jiang Cheng still hadn’t gotten rid of the distinct odour of Xuanwu in his nostrils, despite the fact that he’d changed into what was presently his only other set of robes and had dunked himself in what seemed like every body of water they’d come across on the way from the Xuanwu’s cave to here. Wei Wuxian had, of course, found this hilarious and it had taken several – increasingly graphic – threats to stop him from commenting on it constantly.

Or, considering that threats hadn’t ever worked on Wei Wuxian before, maybe it was merely that they’d all gone quieter the nearer they’d come to the Nightless City.

Now that they were finally here, none of them seemed to feel much like talking anymore, not even Wei Wuxian, whose mouth usually ran like a brook during the spring thaws. They were loitering in a doorway near one of the gates leading to the inner sanctum of the main Wen Sect, pretending to play a game of dice while waiting for an opportune moment to make it the rest of the way in without being discovered. Occasionally the gate opened, offering a glimpse of the wide expanse of the plaza in front of the Scorching Sun Palace. If Jiang Cheng closed his eyes, he could still see the killing field it would once again become if they failed, the place so many had died in that the stench of rotting bodies had hung around for weeks.

The place his sister had died in.

Needless to say, Jiang Cheng made sure to keep his eyes open and trained on the gate, only now and again reaching down for the dice to aid their charade. It shouldn’t have surprised him that Wei Wuxian routinely had something so frivolous with him; at least this time, it was working in their favour. He was just about to initiate a new round when he felt more than saw Lan Wangji tense beside him.

“It’s happening.” At Wei Wuxian’s voice, Jiang Cheng had to force himself not to whip his head around. When he finally looked, he could see the gate open, four Wen soldiers in their black-and-red garb and their distinctive helmets marching out and taking up the position of their fellows who’d been so far guarding the gate.

What happened next would be crucial.

The officer who’d gone off duty stepped away from the gate and took off his helmet, his compatriots crowding around him. Jiang Cheng’s knuckles turned white around the dice as they started discussing something. There was some arm waving and headshaking before the group finally started moving, away from the gate rather than through it. Jiang Cheng let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. Now if only…

The group turned right into a side street, and it was all Jiang Cheng could do not to whoop. Wei Wuxian grinned fiercely, an expression Jiang Cheng suspected was mirrored on his own face. Even Lan Wangji’s eyebrows dipped slightly, showing his satisfaction.

Or so Jiang Cheng supposed. He still hadn’t figured out exactly what constituted a facial expression on the man.

“Now’s our chance.” Without waiting for confirmation, Jiang Cheng set off for the side street the Wen soldiers had disappeared into, barely slow enough as to not arouse suspicion. It was a narrow lane, the backs of stores opening onto it from both sides, usually deserted as far as they’d been able to discover. It was full of trash discarded by the stores, cobbles lose from poor maintenance, and except for the occasional stray dog or cat, nobody but soldiers looking for a shortcut from the gate to the barracks ever used it.

Which made it perfect for their purposes.

Soon, they were several houses deep into the street and, apart from them and the soldiers, it was still deserted. Jiang Cheng was starting to believe they’d actually pull this off.

Obviously, he should have known his brother better. Wei Wuxian looked first at Lan Wangji, then him. “You think it’s time? I think it’s time!”

“What are you doing? They’re going to hear us!” Having instinctively shifted to glare at his brother, Jiang Cheng’s eyes darted back to the soldiers they’d been following and noticed that, indeed, one of them had suddenly stopped in the middle of the street.

Wei Wuxian jostled his shoulder as he passed him. “Only if you keep yelling!”

Without waiting for a response, he leapt ahead and landed in front of the soldiers. “Hi there! I don’t suppose you’re going to make this easy?”

Instead of answering, the lead soldier pulled his sword. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Aw, so you’re going to be difficult…” Before any of the soldiers could react, Wei Wuxian pulled out a talisman and slapped it on the lead soldier’s chest, who immediately crumpled to the ground.

The soldier next to him went to scream – whether it was in shock or to call out for help the world would never know, for Zidian wrapped around his neck and cut off any sound he could have made. He fell down, choking. On the other side, Lan Wangji felled a third soldier with a strategically placed sword pommel to the head. The fourth soldier tried to run but found himself hemmed in on all sides by the three cultivators and was summarily dispatched as well. As soon as that was done, Jiang Cheng whirled around to Wei Wuxian.

“What do you think you’re doing? They could have yelled and given us all away!”

Wei Wuxian finished prying the talisman off the first soldier’s chest. “You worry too much, Jiang Cheng! I had it under control.”

Jiang Cheng felt his face go red. “You had it under control?” That’s what his brother would say, and here of all places?

Before he could have a full-on fit, Lan Wangji stepped in. “Need to go.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes snapped to the mouth of the alley. They were still the only people here, though that could change at any moment – Lan Wangji was right, they needed to get out of here. Still, he couldn’t help himself. “This isn’t over!”, he hissed at Wei Wuxian as he bent down to grab one of the dead soldiers.

Wei Wuxian wisely chose not to answer. Either that, or he was distracted by the way Lan Wangji’s biceps strained as he picked up another of the soldiers.

Probably the second, Jiang Cheng decided, feeling bitter.

Investigating the alley earlier, they’d found an abandoned noodle shop, doors and windows nailed shut, and that’s where they dragged the corpses now, making sure to rearrange the boards on the door so nobody would see the back entrance had recently been used. Only once they were safely inside, with no calls signifying they’d been noticed sounding on the outside, did Jiang Cheng allow his shoulders to slump in relief.

“Your idiotic plan seems to have worked so far.”

Realising he was being addressed, Wei Wuxian looked up from where he was arranging the bodies just so. For a moment, a feeling of vertigo gripped Jiang Cheng – the last time they’d both been in this place, the combination of Wei Wuxian and corpses hadn’t worked out so well for either of them – before reality reasserted itself.

“Told you it would work. I still wish we wouldn’t have had to kill them.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. Sure, these particular soldiers hadn’t done anything – yet. What was it with his brother and saving Wens? When his gaze came down from the heavens, or rather the dirty ceiling, Lan Wangji had reached out to his husband, running a hand down his arm comfortingly. “No choice.”

“I know.” Wei Wuxian allowed Lan Wangji to pull him into an embrace. At least they weren’t making out, Jiang Cheng thought darkly before clearing his throat. “Then let’s get on with it.”

“Mah, Jiang Cheng, give us a moment!” Wei Wuxian protested but obediently started stripping the nearest Wen soldier of his uniform.

Jiang Cheng almost regretted being so sharp with him – he must truly be feeling bad if he didn’t even pretend to put up a fight. Well, nothing to be done about that now.

They went to work.

Jin Ling couldn’t help feeling intrigued as they followed Wen Fen back to the market. He’d only ever been taught of the Wens as wicked people who’d killed his family and Ied Wei Wuxian astray, but the closer they came to the marketplace, the more what he saw seemed to be normal village life. There were men and women toiling away in the fields, young girls running after toddlers, elderly men and women sitting on their stoops and chatting while smoking pipes or shelling peas. Not exactly the bloodthirsty monsters needing to be exterminated he’d been led to believe.

Then again, Wei Wuxian had made him rethink quite a number of his preconceptions in the last year or so.

Eventually, they reached the market square, where Wen Fen offered one last time to lead them to the manor house before she disappeared into the crowd. The market was loud and busy, exactly like any other market Jin Ling had ever been to. It was hard to imagine that all these people would be dead a scant few years from now.

“Hey, look, meat skewers!”

Ugh, obviously Jingyi, the bottomless pit, would notice that first. Still, the spell that had fallen over them was broken, and they slowly started walking down the aisles, Sizhui looking wide-eyed at the people around him. Jin Ling followed his gaze, seeing stalls with pomegranates and apples piled high. There was an old man using brass scales to weigh some figs. He handed the purchase to a girl, younger than Jin Ling, who folded it into a cloth square before slinging the bundle over her shoulder.

Had his grandfather killed that girl too? Or had it been the war before that?

And the man stacking those crates, was he the one who’d killed his mother?

Jin Ling was ripped out of his musings when his gaze happened to fall to his right, where Xue Yang was.

Or rather, should have been.

“Hey, where’s Xue Yang?”

As it turned out, Xue Yang was a few stalls back, trying to liberate a woman’s purse from her pocket. In retrospect, they really should have been expecting something like this.

“What do you think you’re doing?”, Jin Ling scolded as he dragged the boy back to the others by the arm, hoping the woman hadn’t noticed anything. He would have let Zizhen deal with the kid if Jin Ling hadn’t had the distinct impression that Zizhen was going to strangle Xue Yang for real if forced to converse with him for anything resembling a longer period of time. Sizhui had enough on his plate right now, and Jingyi was trying to make sure Sizhui didn’t run into anything while staring, so apparently the job of minding the menace fell to him, Jin Ling.

Joy.

“Let me go! What do you care what I do anyway? She wasn’t going to notice, I’m a good at this!” Urgh, Jin Ling had no idea how Xue Yang had managed to grow into an adult the first time without anybody strangling him!

“That’s not the point! I told you to stay out of trouble.”

Xue Yang crossed his arms, which Jin Ling had already noticed meant he was planning to be particularly obnoxious, and raised his chin. “You’re just walking around. It’s boring! You’re not even buying me anything.”

Oh, so that was what this was about. This was all jiujiu’s fault – if he hadn’t given the kid everything he’d wanted yesterday, they wouldn’t even be having this conversation!

“You annoying little… don’t you think we have better things to do than – “ Jin Ling caught himself and thought it through. Maybe jiujiu had been on to something? “If I get you some sweets, will you be quiet and not cause any trouble?”

Xue Yang’s eyes sparkled in a way that made Jin Ling vaguely suspect this would come back to bite him in the future, but he nodded eagerly enough. “Sure! Can I have some with sesame?”

Five minutes later, they were once again walking down the main thoroughfare of the market, Xue Yang happy munching on sticky sesame bun. More were wrapped in cloth in Jin Ling’s qiankun bag in case he needed to bribe the kid again. Jingyi had given into temptation as well, an empty meat skewer stick dangling from his fingers.

Suddenly, there was a commotion somewhere in front of him. A small boy, barely out of toddlerhood, pushed through between the legs of the adults, racing towards them as he looked back and laughed.

“Ning-ge, you’re never going to catch me!”

The crowd parted, and a boy about their own age appeared. He was wearing a fine robe with the Wen insignia, marking him as a high-ranking member of the Wen branch family. That was not what punched the air out of Jin Ling’s lungs, though.

No, what had them all freeze in place was the fact that they knew that face. Sure, usually it was much paler, with black veins crawling up its neck and onto its cheeks, but the black eyes and delicate features were the same.

It was Wen Ning, future fierce corpse, whom he’d hated all his life for killing his father. Even after the truth had come to light at Guanyin Temple, it had been hard to let go of that.

Jin Ling was so stunned he didn’t notice the small boy barrelling towards him until he was knocked over into Jingyi, both of them ending up on the ground. Even then, he continued to sit there, ignoring Jingyi’s elbow in his liver and the muddy water slowly soaking into the fabric of his golden robes as he stared and stared. While he wasn’t aware of it at the moment, the other boys weren’t faring any better. Without anybody noticing, a fly flew into Zizhen’s mouth, which had dropped open in surprise. Or rather – without anybody noticing except for Xue Yang, who was watching the scene while slowly licking the last of his bun from his fingers. Maybe something interesting was finally going to happen?

Wen Ning ran up to them, panting, and immediately started to bow repeatedly. “I’m s-sorry. That was n-not… A-Chen, Ap-p-pologize to the cultiv-vators.” He looked more and more frazzled as he spoke. Jin Ling had a hard time imagining this overly polite boy with a stutter as the feared Ghost General.

Next to Jin Ling, the boy – A-Chen? – jumped up, and Jin Ling could see he was swallowing down giggles as he did as he’d been told. “Sorry, sir! I didn’t mean to run into you.” See, now there was an obedient child! Why couldn’t Xue Yang be more like that?

Wen Ning looked at Jin Ling, who was still sitting on the floor in a puddle and starting to feel self-conscious about it. “Y-you’re all d-d-dirty and we-wet. You sh-should come with me. A-Jie will h-help.”

Even as the other boy had been speaking, Jin Ling had started to heave himself up. “That won’t be necessary, we –“

“That would be very nice. I mean, we’d appreciate it very much.” And there Sizhui went interrupting him again. Jin Ling was starting to get annoyed at this new habit his friend had developed.

In the meantime, poor Wen Ning’s gaze darted back and forth between them as if trying to decide whom to respond to. Xue Yang couldn’t resist: “Don’t worry, they’re always like this.”

“Always like what?” Jin Ling almost bit his tongue when he noticed he’d fallen for the bait. Why did this kid get under his skin so easily?

Xue Yang’s smile widened, as if he knew exactly what Jin Ling was thinking.

“Stupid.”

Jin Ling, dripping muck from the ruts the carts carrying goods had left behind that morning, made the very deliberate decision to not flick that muck all over the younger boy.

Sometimes, it was really hard being bigger person. No wonder jiujiu was so angry all the time!

Wen Ning seemed to have gathered his courage while Jin Ling had been deciding to not murder Xue Yang for what seemed the umpteenth time that day. “Pl-please. We’d be h-honoured to have you. You c-can wash?”

His eyes tentatively darted to the two muddied members of the party, leaving no doubt as to who he was referring to. Sizhui was looking at Wen Ning, an unusually raw, hopeful look in his eyes that Jin Ling found it impossible to deny.

The local Wen branch family manor, it turned out, was about fifteen minutes outside the village. As they were walking, Jin Ling tried not to stare at Wen Ning, who was clearly uncomfortable with all the attention. Sizhui was visibly torn between trying to learn as much about his family as he could and not making the shy boy any more uneasy. At least it was fun to watch Xue Yang fend off the exited questions of A-Chen, who’d turned out to be Wen Ning’s cousin. Watching the boy avoid the increasingly enthusiastic toddler’s overtures of friendship – and keeping himself ready to intervene should it be necessary – also helped him ignore the drying mud stiffening up his robes.

By the time they arrived, it was starting to get dark, and Jin Ling could only see the shadow of a large, sprawling estate. Wen Ning turned to face all of them and bowed again. “P-Please wait. I will t-talk to A-Jie. She’ll h-have r-rooms for you.”

Wait, what?

Jin Ling waited until Wen Ning had disappeared into the building, taking his baby cousin with him, before he whirled on Sizhui – this could only be his fault.

Zizhen got there first: “What did he mean?”

Sizhui fisted his hands into the sides of his robes before letting go and standing up straight. Well, straight-er. The Lan Sect in general had really good posture.

“I told him we were here to visit a friend and find family and could use a place to stay. It’s not a lie.” The last added somewhat defensively, and Jin Ling couldn’t believe he’d still care about that at this point.

“And what if they find us out?”

“How? Nobody could possibly believe this!” Sizhui gestured among them. Jin Ling had to admit he had a point.

“Believe what?”, Xue Yang said, eyes sparkling with mischief, and Jin Ling almost groaned in frustration.

Sizhui looked started for a moment – really, they had to stop forgetting that the kid was there! –, then seemed to rally himself. “Staying here is my best chance. And – there’s something I need to make sure of.”

His tone immediately raised Jin Ling’s suspicions. Before he could comment, Wen Ning returned with a gnarled old servant woman in tow, introducing her as the one who would show them their rooms and the baths.

Sizhui stiffened beside him.

“Wen-popo?”

It had been said in a whisper, but remembering what Sizhui had told them of his past Jin Ling knew he’d lost the argument.

“I take it back – this is a stupid idea! Why did I agree to this?” Jiang Cheng’s whisper sounded louder than he’d intended as they crossed the empty plaza. His ill-begotten black-and-red robes itched, and he resisted the temptation to scratch himself. Clearly, the Wen Sect was not in the habit of spending coin to ensure their soldiers’ uniforms were of good quality.

Wei Wuxian seemed woefully oblivious of the death glare aimed his way. “We’ll be fine. They didn’t suspect a thing at the gate!”

“Or we’ll be dead! There’s only three of us and an entire palace of them, in case you’d forgotten!”

And yes, maybe he hadn’t exactly been averse to coming here, but now that he was here, everywhere he looked he was swamped with bad memories. The worst memories, really, and could anyone blame him for being the tiniest bit tetchy?

“Wei Ying more powerful.” And of course Lan Wangji would be on his brother’s side. It’s not like he’d expected anything else.

“Oh yes? You want to recreate what happened last time? We’re trying to stop a war, not start one!”

Jiang Cheng realised he’d gone too far when Wei Wuxian flinched. He could feel Lan Wangji’s eyes burning a hole in the side of the Wen helmet he was wearing, but it was too late to take it back now.

Just as well that they’d arrived at the steps leading up to the Scorching Sun Palace.

“Shh, we’re almost there!” Jiang Cheng would have hit his brother about the head if he hadn’t still felt guilty for earlier. Besides, such an action would have been sure to draw the attention of any guards looking their way.

The stairway seemed to go on forever and at the same time, they were up at the main entrance of the palace much too soon. When he turned his head, he could overlook the entirety of Nightless City. He’d never seen it like this – bustling and untouched by war – and he had to admit that it looked quite pretty, if one went in for such things. Personally, he preferred the tranquil atmosphere offered by Lotus Pier.

There was another group of guards stationed inside the entranceway, and Jiang Cheng had to remind himself to relax. He was just a normal Wen henchman, reporting for duty, nothing to see here. He was still slowly unpeeling his fingers from where they’d automatically gripped his sword – hidden in the layers of his stolen uniform, so it wouldn’t be recognized – while Wei Wuxian was already in full swing, charming the guards. Later on, they’d have nothing odd to report – only a batch of soldiers reporting for duty, as it happened several times a day.

Jiang Cheng felt the old familiar sting and told himself it wasn’t jealousy.

It didn’t take any time at all and they were in. In their own time, the Scorching Sun Palace had been left to go to ruin, but here, the high columns and great halls still stood proudly. Jiang Cheng almost couldn’t believe they’d actually managed to get in.

“Remember, we’re here today to figure out the lay of the land, nothing more!” He reminded the other two and took the lead. Walking the area as if he knew where he was going when in reality he had no clue was harder than he’d expected. The palace was surprisingly deserted, though he supposed there was no need to guard empty halls during peacetime.

He was about to remark on this to his companions when he turned a corner and spotted a door guarded by several heavily armed soldiers. Before they could see him, Jiang Cheng thrust out a hand to keep his companions from following and stepped back into the previous hallway.

“What?” Wei Wuxian hissed.

“Not here.”

They retraced their steps until they ended up in a little alcove a few hallways back where their voices wouldn’t carry beyond the immediate space.

“What did you find?”, Wei Wuxian said as soon as they’d made sure they were the only ones in the room.

“They’re guarding something. We should find out what it is.”

“You want to steal from them?”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “I was thinking more of the main family. Isn’t that the plan – find Wen Ruohan and his misbegotten sons, kill them all, stop the war?”

Wei Wuxian looked at him as if he was a particularly slow child. Jiang Cheng did not appreciate this.

“You just want to burst into the main chamber and murder Wen Ruohan? Don’t you think that’ll make things worse?”

Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes. “Keep talking to me like that and I’ll show you worse. We’ll need to kill them, one way or the other.”

If Wei Wuxian was in any way phased by his rising ire, Jiang Cheng couldn’t see it. “Sure. But I’d prefer not to get killed myself. Done that once, cannot recommend.” The skin around Lan Wangji’s eyes tightened at the nonchalance in his tone, and even Jiang Cheng winced. Wei Wuxian himself, sticking his head out into the hallway proper to make sure they were still alone, remained oblivious to their distress.

Jiang Cheng let out a breath and tried again. “So what’s your idea?” Now that he was a bit calmer, he could admit to himself that they really should have talked about this beforehand instead of assuming they were all on the same page. Then again, fantasizing about killing Wen Ruohan had been extremely satisfying.

Wei Wuxian shrugged. “You’re right. Security here doesn’t seem particularly tight so far, so if they’re guarding something, we should probably find out what it is.”

“Agree.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “If you think so, why didn’t you say that immediately?”

Wei Wuxian ignored him, already lost in thought. “What we need is a plan how to get in without causing a ruckus…”

Peacetime, it turned out, made people terrifyingly complacent.

The plan Wei Wuxian came up with turned out to be laughably simple – in fact, Jiang Cheng had called it ‘mad’ upon first hearing of it. It could be summed up in one sentence: March up to the guards as if they owned the place, inform them that they were their early replacements, watch them celebrate their early break, and wait until they cleared the premises.

Still, there was absolutely no need for Wei Wuxian to be so smug about it.

“Told you it would work!”

“Shut up and help me with this door.”

It turned out the door the soldiers had been guarding was locked, but a simple lock was no match for three seasoned cultivators. Wei Wuxian poked his head in first, making sure the coast was clear. Entering last, Jiang Cheng pulled the door shut behind him and turned around. To his surprise, the room wasn’t filled with treasure or even the private chamber of some high-ranking Wen or other. Far from it – it looked like a normal, if slightly spacious, office.

“So what do we have here…” Wei Wuxian reached up to pull off his Wen helmet, leaving his hear mussed and sticking out every way.

The sight was lost on Jiang Cheng. Lan Wangji, however, pursed his lips in appreciation.

Jiang Cheng stepped up to one of the desks and searched through the parchments there, eyes lingering on each just long enough to get the gist of it. Grain shipments, pay calculations for the garrison at the Northern gate… Nothing that he wouldn’t expect. Nothing that need to be guarded within an already guarded palace. Maybe the Wen Sect was more paranoid than the empty corridors might lead to suspect after all? “This here is completely ordinary bookkeeping. Absolutely useless.”

Wei Wuxian, investigating another desk, shook his head without looking up. “I don’t know. If they were going to all the hassle of guarding this place, there must be something… “ He faltered, grabbing at a half-unrolled scroll on the desk and unfurling it fully. His gaze narrowed in a way that let Jiang Cheng know immediately that he’d found something important.

“What is it?” In three steps, he was across the room and pulling the scroll from his brother’s hands.

“… the Jin Sect will remain neutral unless pressed … special attention to securing the border to the Nie Sect …” Jiang Cheng looked up, shocked. “They’re already planning the war?”

Wei Wuxian merely grinned. It was an ugly grin that reminded Jiang Cheng uncomfortably of his most infamous deeds as the Yiling Laozu. “Well, I guess we won’t have to feel bad about killing them, then.” Lan Wangji, who’d been reading along over Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, squared his shoulders at his husband’s tone, making him seem even more broad and well-built than usual.

Jiang Cheng clenched his fists, something hot and ugly swelling in his belly. “I wasn’t planning on feeling bad.” He let the scroll fall back onto the desk to hide how much his hands were shaking.

Jin Ling had been right – how could they have ever intended to let the war play out the same way it had the first time?

Wei Wuxian nodded, as if he hadn’t expected any other answer from Jiang Cheng. “Doesn’t help us figure out how to do it, though.”

As if his words had summoned them, there were suddenly footsteps outside the office. Within seconds, the three of them had crossed the room and plastered themselves to the wall near the only entrance.

An imperial-sounding voice penetrated the door. “Wen-zongzhu and his heirs will be back from their inspection tour tomorrow. Make sure everything is ready… why are there no guards here?” For a second, Jiang Cheng dared to hope whoever it was would go looking for the guards rather than entering. His hopes had no sooner formed than they were dashed to pieces. When the footsteps didn’t move away again, Jiang Cheng took a last look around, but there was nowhere three grown men could hide, and with the contents of the office in disarray as they were their ruse would be well and truly up.

The door started to creep open, and Jiang Cheng made a decision. With reflexes born from years of practice, he positioned himself in front of the door. Two quick nods had Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji splitting up on either side. Jiang Cheng allowed himself to feel a split-second’s satisfaction that the teamwork they had been forced to develop during the war still existed before he settled into his ready stance. He would deal with whoever came in first, and they’d take any stragglers. They couldn’t afford for anybody to scream, or to get away and warn the rest of the palace.

The voice was still talking. “There should be –“

The door opened, Jiang Cheng’s every nerve singing in readiness, his hand on Sandu’s pommel, and he…

…froze in place.

Jiang Cheng felt acutely aware of the blood coursing through his body, his spiritual pathways pulsing, he knew he should react, but in front of him…

In front of him was his living nightmare. Wen Zhuliu, looking exactly like the day he’d… he’d… mutilated him.

“I killed you!”, Jiang Cheng stuttered out dumbly, cursing himself in the same breath.

Wen Zhuliu’s eyes widened in surprise, his hand – the hand that had taken everything from Jiang Cheng – reaching out.

Without any conscious decision on Jiang Cheng’s part, Sandu flashed through the air, taking Wen Zhuliu’s hand off at the wrist. Feeling as if he were a passenger in his own body, he somehow managed to step away in time to avoid the worst of the blood spray and watched as a knife came out of nowhere, cutting Wen Zhuliu’s throat and effectively silencing him before he could scream down bloody murder on them.

Oh, it wasn’t out of nowhere. The knife was attached to his brother.

Jiang Cheng blinked at Wei Wuxian, trying to get himself under control, and after a moment or two, the sound came rushing back in. He became aware that Lan Wangji was dealing with whoever had been with Wen Zhuliu. Wei Wuxian was looking at him, worried.

“A-Cheng, are you alright?”

Jiang Cheng let out a breath, lifted his chin and forced himself to look down at the corpse of the man who’d haunted his nightmares for years, even long after his death, as if there was nothing to it. “Of course I am. Don’t be stupid.”

Wei Wuxian pressed his lips together for a second as if he didn’t quite believe him before clearly deciding to let it go. He turned to look at Lan Wangji, who was stacking the corpses of two Wen officials against the closed door, then down at Wen Zhuliu, slowly bleeding out on the floor, and finally back at Jiang Cheng again.

“So much for keeping a low profile, huh?”

Chapter Text

Once a season, the head of the Wen Sect and his immediate advisors left Nightless City for a week or two to travel through the provinces under the family’s control. They stopped at the bigger cities, making a grand show of meeting the local dignitaries, and the small as well – different ones each time – so that everyone in all the country would know their names and their faces. It was an old custom, and certainly there was a lot of goodwill to be gained by turning up and granting small mercies. The other half of the truth was that it was hard to keep secrets from your lord when he was liable to show up at any time.

There goes Wen-zongzhu, the people would say, why, didn’t he send several carts with food after the harsh winter two years ago?

Or – this quietly, hand over mouth: Don’t look, there’s Wen-zongzhu, who had half the old men in Wanjia town hanged when it turned out they’d stopped sending their sons to the annual spring muster.

There was a group who quite enjoyed these inspection tours, though. For the palace staff, they offered the opportunity to finally let go a little. There was still work, of course – there was always something to clean and fix, after all, and when better than to get at all the hard-to-reach or public places than when there weren’t watchful eyes looking out for your every mistake –, but there were more special pleasures too. During the summer inspection tour, for example, it was practically tradition for the head cook to invite all the servants for a picknick on the balcony of the main dining hall. There they dressed in their finery, gazing in at the empty hall of the elites and feeling like big, important people themselves for once in their lives. Nor was it unheard of for one of the lower guards to invite their sweetheart to the extensive palace gardens to show them how lovely nature could look, even in the big city.

The night guard for the Hall of Contemplation, a longish fellow with a fading pimple on his chin, was there right now, the girl on his arm giggling as they sat down on a stone bench encircling a massive ginkgo tree. With Wen-zongzhu and his sons set to return the next day, he was cutting it close, but she’d only been able to beg this evening off from the owner of the shop where she worked, and he’d been courting her for quite some time and looking forward to this outing. With any luck, they’d be married by spring.

The Hall of Contemplation could guard itself this night, he decided, while she leaned his head on her shoulder. He sank back, content.

Meanwhile, in the Hall of Contemplation, three men who would never know that they’d only escaped discovery due to a fickle shop owner’s whim were dragging three bodies across the polished marble.

“You sure it was here?” Now that the adrenaline had worn off, the nature of this new problem they had on their hands was starting to dawn on Jiang Cheng. Why had he listened to his brother instead of going with his own first instinct? Hiding in the throne room and attacking at the first opportunity would have been a perfectly serviceable plan! Worst of all, he couldn’t even yell at Wei Wuxian about it because, if the trail of blood they were leaving behind didn’t give them away – and they’d definitely have to get rid of that as soon as possible –, him yelling at the top of his voice surely would.

Jiang Cheng bunched Wen Zhuliu’s robe tighter in his fist as he dragged his body past a pillar and shot an annoyed look at this brother’s back. Said brother naturally remained oblivious to his displeasure.

“Yes, I’m su– oh, here it is!” Wei Wuxian the dead official he’d been hauling along on the floor, took a moment to wince at the sound it made, and reached behind a wall hanging, fiddling with something. A second later, the wall hanging bulged out as a hidden door behind it sprung open. Jiang Cheng followed him into the small, dark room it led to and found himself standing in a supply closet.

Wei Wuxian turned to face Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji. “See? It’s perfect! We’ll lock them in here, jam the door, and with any luck, by the time anyone finds them we’ll be long gone. Or at least far enough away nobody will suspect us.”

Jiang Cheng could feel his nostrils flare. Sure, he couldn’t think of a better plan either and they could hardly leave the corpses lying out in the open. Still… “If this backfires, I’m blaming you!” He was pretty sure he heard something like a growl issue forth from Hanguang-Jun’s direction when he poked his index finger into Wei Wuxian’s chest. Jiang Cheng considered himself a brave man, however, and therefore barely blinked.

It wasn’t as if Lan Wangji could start anything in their current position.

No, the thing that caused him to almost growl back was the hearteyes Wei Wuxian immediately aimed over Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. Did those two ever stop?

By the time Jiang Cheng had withdrawn his hand from his brother Wei Wuxian had fortunately stopped looking at his husband as if he was contemplating what else one could do in a broom closet. Unfortunately, he also seemed to have completely forgotten Jiang Cheng’s threat. Instead, he reached out, pulled a towel from one of the shelves lining the walls and held it up.

“So – who’s hiding the bodies and who’s cleaning up?”

Sizhui was acting incredibly weird.

It wasn’t even his usual brand of weird, the kind that most of the Lan Sect shared. No, Sizhui had become borderline rude – for him, at least – staring at people much longer that was necessary and being much more assertive about inserting himself into the Wen household than he’d ever seen him about anything. For some reason, he’d become incredibly interested in the kid they’d met at the market and had even tried to arrange a playdate for Xue Yang over dinner.

Jin Ling had almost snorted his soup through his nose at the look on the pest’s face at that.

Now it was the next morning, and he and Zizhen were left alone with nothing much to do. Sizhui and Jingyi had disappeared shortly after breakfast for the mysterious playdate, taking Xue Yang along with them. Jin Ling didn’t even want to know what they’d had to promise him for behaving himself. Either way, he pitied the poor Wen kid for having to put up with him.

As grateful as Jin Ling was to not be responsible for minding Xue Yang for once, it wasn’t like he and Zizhen could continue the search for Sizhui’s relatives by themselves when Sizhui didn’t even know how they looked like. Everywhere the two of them turned, servants were buzzing around doing – something, Jin Ling hadn’t asked and it wasn’t as if he could simply order them gone. When he’d tried earlier, the girl who’d come in to make his bed had looked at him with big eyes until Zizhen had grabbed his elbow and dragged him out of the room, having the nerve to apologize all the way.

It wasn’t that Jin Ling was sulking. It was just – how come Sizhui got to spend time with his family when Jin Ling himself hadn’t even seen his mom yet!

“Do you hear that?”

Jin Ling looked up from where he’d been sulking meditating on the current situation in a corner of one of the estate’s outer courtyards. “Hear what?”, he said, but even as he said it he noticed it too – the distinctive clashing of practice swords against each other drifting in from somewhere behind the building. “Guess there’s a training ground around here.”

“You want to go check it out?” Even as he spoke, Zizhen was starting to move in the direction the sounds were coming from, and Jin Ling scowled. “And do what? We’re probably much better than anybody here, it’ll be boring.” From what he remembered of his lessons, the members of the Wen Sect living in his area had specialised in healing, not the military. And besides, they’d been pretty much annihilated in the war, so how good could they be?

Zizhen was now almost straining to round the corner. “Come on. What’s the worst that could happen? Maybe we’ll find out something that’s useful. Maybe we’ll find Sizhui’s parents! Wouldn’t that be great?” Zizhen stopped fidgeting for a moment as he mentally pictured reuniting their friend with his long-lost relatives.

Jin Ling grunted as he got up himself. “And even if you did, how would you know?”

Zizhen nodded eagerly, seeing his plan succeeding already. “Easy! We only have to show them Sizhui, they’ll definitely recognize their child. Isn’t that what parents do?”

Jin Ling rolled his eyes in his best imitation of his jiujiu. “He’s not even born yet.”

“They’ll know.” Zizhen sounded sure of himself as they started walking down a small dirt trail leading around an outhouse and into some trees behind the building. After a minute or so, the trees gave way, revealing a well-hidden training field. Two figures in Wen disciple robes were sparring in its centre, taking advantage of the cool morning breeze, a boy and a girl looking to be a year or so younger than Jin Ling and Zizhen. They… weren’t bad, actually, especially considering that Jin Ling had expected anybody of the branch Wen here to be abysmal at fighting.

The Ghost General had an unfair advantage and clearly didn’t count.

The boy was just finishing up a series of attack strikes on the girl, who blocked expertly, then went down on one knee with the momentum of the block to come up behind him and jab the pommel of her wooden practice sword at his back. He only barely manged to jerk forward in time to avoid what would surely have been a painful bruise, whirling around to lock swords again.

“Not fair! That was my point!”

“That was a stalemate, and you know it!”

“I certainly don… who’s that?”

The girl stopped bickering to point at Jin Ling and Zizhen with her training sword, the boy following her line of sight. Seeing no point in keeping hidden now, the two stepped out from underneath the shadow of the trees.

“Who’re you?” the boy said, taking a half-step in front of the girl who shot him an annoyed look and moved to stand beside him instead. “Yeah, and what are you doing here? These grounds are only for members of the Wen Sect!”

Now, it must be said that Jin Ling, prior to becoming sect leader and therefore head of the entire Jin Sect, had been a quite pampered kid, certainly the apple of his jiujiu’s eye. Due to his exalted position of sect heir, he’d never had much contact with other children on eye-level, barring a couple of summers in Lotus Pier when he’d been very young. He’d certainly never been made to feel unwelcome in such uncertain terms.

This was totally to blame for what came next.

Hearing the girl’s frankly suspicious tone, Jin Ling dug his heels into the soft dirt of the training arena and narrowed his eyes. “How dare you speak to me like that!”

Undaunted, the girl lifted her chin and looked down her nose at him, which should have been impossible since he was almost a head taller. “How dare I speak to you like what?”

The boy, looking back and forth between them and not wanting to be left out of the fight, gripped his training sword tighter. “What A-Bao said! You didn’t even tell us your names yet.”

Jin Lings nostrils flared, and he pushed his shoulders back. Though he wouldn’t have put it in those terms, nobody was going to out-arrogant him! “I’m Jin Ru–“.

A giant sneeze split the tension of the training ground, causing all those present to lose track of the conversation.

Another.

And another.

Finally, Zizhen came up for air, rubbing his nose on a handkerchief that had materialized out of his sleeve. “Sorry. Umm – hi. I’m Ouyang Zhen and that’s my friend, Jin Zilan.” As he came up from the bow he’d fallen into, he flashed Jin Ling a pointed stare, and Jin Ling almost glared back before he remembered – right, fake names. He quickly followed suit, bowing in turn.

The two teens who’d been sparing took a moment to digest what had happened before the boy nodded. “Ah, you’re the kids A-Ning brought in last night? I thought you’d be younger.”

Jin Ling sputtered, feeling himself go red, and only Ouyang’s foot nudging his own stopped him from escalating the situation again. Somehow, he managed to take a deep breath and swallow down his outrage. “Yes. And you are?”

The girl blinked, clearly expecting a more uncivil response and feeling wrong-footed for the first time in the conversation. “Uh, sure. I’m Wen Bao, and this is my twin brother Wen Bai. I’d say nice to meet you, but we were kind of in the middle of something.”

Now that Jin Ling looked, he could clearly see the resemblance. Both had the same wide cheekbones and naturally upturned mouths. To add to the similarity, both had shoulder-length black hair, though Wen Bao wore hers straight down, while Wen Bai had his swept back in a small, messy bun.

A couple more strands of hair escaped as Wen Bai turned his head towards his guests and grimaced. “Don’t take it personally. She’s always this blunt.”

The girl elbowed him.

“Hey, it’s the truth!”

“But you can’t just say that!”

“Why not?”

Soon, the two seemed to have completely forgotten their audience, and Jin Ling and Zizhen stood there watching them bickering for a moment before Zizhen cleared his throat. “Umm…”

The twins snapped their attention back to their guests, Wen Bai still absently rubbing his side. Wen Bao found her equilibrium first. “Oh! Right. Umm, as I was saying, we were busy sparring, so, if you don’t mind –”

“Actually, why don’t you join us? You look like you’d know what you’re doing”, Wen Bai interrupted his sister, ignoring the glare she sent him in favour of looking Jin Ling and Zizhen over. Something in his demeanour told Jin Ling Wen Bai had an ulterior motive for the offer – apart from annoying his frankly scary sister. Before he could figure out what it might be, Zizhen nodded and started walking toward the racks where the training swords were kept. “Sure. It’s not like we’ve got anything better to do.”

For once, luck was on their side, and they managed to do a decent job of removing any traces of their impromptu murder session. By the time they’d finished rubbing down the floor between the Wen’s secret planning room and the supply closet, it was past midnight and still, nobody had shown up to ask them what, exactly, they were doing or why they were there at all.

Jiang Cheng was seriously starting to question how they’d had such a hard time beating the Wens the first time around if this was their idea of security.

While Hanguang-Jun and Jiang Cheng had been working on removing any evidence of their crime, Wei Wuxian had stacked the corpses up in the back corner of the closet with surprising skill, repositioning a cupboard so they wouldn’t immediately be seen from the entrance. Jiang Cheng decided not to question where he’d gotten such skill in handling dead body parts while completely ignoring the way a body was meant to bend– such way lay madness and, more importantly, more detailed information about his brother’s chosen field than he’d ever wanted to know.

By the time they reconvened, the moon was already on its way down in the sky. Unanimously, they decided there was no point in leaving now, and so they resumed their rounds.

They still had their uniforms, after all, and so far, they’d served their purpose as camouflage well enough.

It turned out that sparring with the Wen twins was quite fun – not that Jin Ling would ever admit it, he still had his pride. So it was in a considerably better mood that he and Zizhen returned to their rooms to wash up before lunch. They walked in to find the other two Juniors already there, Sizhui pacing along the back wall in what would have been a measured step – for anybody else, that was; for Sizhui, it was definitely a sign of unusual agitation. Unless Jin Ling was mistaken, he was also very much doing the Lan version of wringing his hands in front of him, so that – also very unusual.

The third strike came when, rather than acknowledging the new arrivals, he kept right on talking. “… and if we do nothing, they’re all going to die. We can’t do nothing!”

Jingyi, sitting cross-legged on a meditation mat, gave the newcomers a small wave and remained settled back comfortably as if he’d been listening to Sizhui’s diatribe quite a while already. Having nothing better to do at the moment, Jing Ling and Zizhen joined him on the floor.

In the meantime, Sizhui turned another corner. “I know Hanguang-Jun, Wei-gongzi and Sandu Shengshou are already taking care of it, but what if something goes wrong? Or what if –“ He stopped, having finally noticed the new arrivals. “Oh. You’re back!”

Jin Ling didn’t deign to answer the obvious, jumping straight to the topic at hand instead. “What’s this about doing nothing?”

Sizhui let out a sigh far too exhausted for this early in the day. “I was saying, we need to stop everyone here from dying!” He plopped down on the meditation mat next to Jingyi with less deliberation than Jin Ling had ever seen Sizhui give anything. Somehow, he still managed to look preternaturally graceful while doing it.

No, Jin Ling wasn’t jealous at all.

Besides… “Jiujiu’s already doing that.” Really, what had gotten into his friend?

“There, I’ve been telling him that for half an hour!” Jingyi practically crowed, tossing his hands in Sizhui’s direction in vindication.

“What if something goes wrong?”, Sizhui said, running his hand through his hair and setting the headband that marked him as part of the Lan Sect askew in the process. If Jin Ling hadn’t already known something was seriously bothering him, he’d have now. Not that he was going to let such an accusation sit regardless.

“Are you saying jiujiu doesn’t know what he’s doing?” Jin Ling could feel his hackles rise at the slight.

Sizhui looked pained, and Jingyi snorted. “That’s not the problem. It’s more that – saving Wen lives is probably not his priority?”

Jin Ling had to bite down the first instinctive response he had to that. And the second. By the third, he’d started thinking of Wen Bai and Wen Bao and that they probably didn’t deserve to die either, no matter what his teachers had said. Maybe a different approach was asked for? That was something he’d learned to do since he’d taken over as sect leader – deflect to a more palatable part of the problem at hand and hope everything else would fall into place. Hopefully, one of these days, it would work. “What brought this on anyway?”

Jingyi shot Sizhui a coy look. Before Jin Ling could start wondering if maybe they were keeping secrets from him and Zizhen, Sizhui squared his shoulders. “Remember the boy we met yesterday, A-Chen? He’s my big brother.” His voice turned soft. “Didn’t even know I had one.”

Jin Ling’s eyes grew round for a moment as he processed that particular piece of information, and then he immediately started asking the important questions. “Wait, you willingly inflicted Xue Yang on your own brother?”

Next to him, Zizhen leaned forward eagerly. “You found your family? That’s great, I’m so happy for you!
Sizhui smiled, though he didn’t look nearly as happy as Jin Ling would have expected. “I know I should leave everything to Hanguang-Jun, but now that I’ve found them, I feel like I need to at least do something.”

Oh, this could be bad. “You can’t tell them, they’ll never believe you!”, Jin Ling said.

“I know.” Sizhui sounded pained.

The four boys fell into silence until, after a moment, Zizhen jerked up from where he’d slumped against the wall. “I know! Why don’t you write them a letter and tell them to only open it in an emergency? Then, if nothing ever happens, it won’t matter!”

Jin Ling went to roll his eyes, but to his alarm, the others looked intrigued by the suggestion. Jingyi put a hand to his chin. “Maybe we could hide it too, to make doubly sure?”

Sizhui nodded as if this wasn’t the most hare-brained thing he’d ever heard. “We’ll need some way for them to know they need to look for it, though…”

“Maybe a second message?” Zizhen shook his head. “No, that would make sense…”

Jin Ling had heard enough. “None of this makes any sense, listen to yourselves!”

“Then what do you think Sizhui should do?”, Zizhen said.

“I don’t know!” Why was everyone looking at Jin Ling as if he was the problem? That just wasn’t fair! It wasn’t like they could put them on a cart and send them somewhere else like they’d done with xiao-shushu, Sizhui’s family actually wanted to be here!

Nobody said anything for a while.

Finally, Jingyi stood up and stretched, his back cracking after sitting still for so long. “Anyway, how about we go get some lunch now? We still have another day or so to figure something out before we need to leave.” Somebody’s stomach growled in sympathy, breaking the sombre mood they’d all fallen into.

They were halfway out the door by the time Zizhen turned to Sizhui and spoke. “Not that I particularly care, but what did you do with Xue Yang?” He looked hopeful in a way that had Jin Ling wondering if maybe he was picturing them throwing Xue Yang down a well, or into some other inaccessible place where he’d never bother them again. It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant thought.

Jingyi shrugged. “Dunno. Sizhui was upset so I told him to go out and play. I mean, what could go wrong?”

The four Juniors looked at each other for a bit. Sizhui winced.

Jingyi gave a sheepish grin. “…on second thought, why don’t we go find him?”

Every morning, the sun dawned on the Scorching Sun Palace in one fell swoop. It started slowly, creeping up the outside flank of the volcano on the Nightless City’s eastern side, right up until it touched the glittering snow at its summit. Once there, it gained speed – racing down the other side, it illuminated the very top of the highest towers first, glinting off the polished roof tiles, signalling the roosters it was time to crow. Then, as if the tops of the towers had been ahead in time, the sun fully passed the mountain’s summit to shine evenly on the city below, the rich parts and the poor.

It shone on a young shop assistant walking home, hoping she wouldn’t be too tired for her day’s work, wondering if she should accept her suitor’s proposal. He wasn’t much to look at, so much was true, but he was better spoken than the young man her mama wanted her to marry, and he seemed honest. And those gardens had been so very pretty.

It shone on the roof of the barracks where a young man, love drunk with her perfume still in his nose, was creeping into his bunk while absently wondering if the floor in the Hall of Contemplation had always sparkled that cleanly.

And it shone on the Scorching Sun Palace, bustling with activity on the morning of the day where Wen-zongzhu and his sons were set to return from their inspection tour. The servants’ supervisors sent out their underlings one last time to make sure everything was ready. Everything was, except for one broom closet on the second floor with a stuck handle, but Wen-zongzhu would hardly care about that so it was set aside for later; there were more important matters to see to.

By the time the day was well and truly upon the city, all that was left to do was collect the stragglers and make sure they, too, took their place in the traditional formation welcoming the Wen leadership back to the palace.

It was around this time that Jiang Cheng and his two companions were exploring the Eastern part of the palace. They’d had an impromptu war meeting just before sunrise and decided that their next order of business would be to simply hide in the main Wen family’s rooms and surprise them where they’d expect it least and where hopefully, nobody else would be present – after all, if Wen Zhuliu was to be believed, they were expected back today.

Naturally, this would only work if they could find the family’s living quarters first. So far, they’d had no luck.

Giving his head a minute shake, Lan Wangji closed the door of the room he’d peeked into.

A few doors further down, Jiang Cheng almost growled in frustration as he finished checking his own room. The only thing they’d come across so far was a servant girl setting up some flower vases – thankfully she’d bought their disguise –, and it was starting to wear on his nerves.

Wei Wuxian finished his investigation across from them and went ahead, walking backward as he continued speaking to them. “We’ll find it sooner or later; it has to be here somewh–“ A carpet edge tripped him.

Fortunately, something was there to break his fall.

Unfortunately, it was a Wen officer.

The Wen officer, who’d appeared out of a previously hidden junction in the hallway, was growing more and more red-faced as Wei Wuxian clutched at his uniform in order to keep himself upright.

Finally, Wei Wuxian managed to get his feet under him. “Uh, sorry about that. Sir.” Wei Wuxian reached out slowly and patted the officer’s uniform collar back into place.

The officer, whose face by now was an unnatural shade of puce, sputtered.

Wei Wuxian retracted his arm and grinned in what Jiang Cheng was sure he thought was a winning fashion. “Maybe it would help if you tried breathing?"

Jiang Cheng slipped his hand into his robes to feel for the pommel of his sword.

“What are you doing here?!”

The officer’s voice echoed down the hallway, and Jiang Cheng almost imagined he could see his brother’s hair being pushed back by the force of the officer’s shout.

Wei Wuxian, because he had no common sense at all, turned back to Jiang Cheng. “A-Cheng! See, there’s someone who can shout almost as loud as you!”

Jiang Cheng could practically feel his eyes bug out of his face, and he had to bite his tongue not to prove him right immediately. At least he could see that Wei Wuxian had also moved his hand into the folds in his robes where he knew his brother kept Chenqing, so he wasn’t completely ignoring the severity of the situation. Just stupid.

Jiang Cheng was still staring at his brother, trying to decide how to distract the Wen officer – and, as he could see now, his underlings filing in behind him – from his brother’s foolishness when salvation came.

From an unlikely source, true, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Jiang Cheng did hate owing anything to Lan Wangji, though.

“Sir. Patrolling!” His brother-in-law’s voice ripped Jiang Cheng from his one-sided staring contest.

The officer took a moment before turning more fully to Lan Wangji, clearly making the choice to ignore Wei Wuxian’s weird antics. Huh, who knew Lan Wangji’s habit of mincing words could come in so handy?

“There are no patrols here today! You are supposed to be at the Welcoming Ceremony! What is your excuse?!”

Jiang Cheng blinked, wondering if the officer ever spoke in anything less than shouts, and Wei Wuxian shot him a triumphant look. Jiang Cheng bit his tongue again to keep himself quiet. It was starting to hurt.

There was a moment where nothing happened. Then, suddenly…

“Got lost…” Jiang Cheng could practically hear the question mark at the end of that statement. When exactly had they elected their least talkative member as their spokesperson?

For a wonder, the Wen officer seemed to swallow it. Now that Jiang Cheng had had a moment to take in the scene, he realised that the officer had seemed slightly frazzled even before Wei Wuxian had stumbled right into him. Not frazzled enough that he feared their previous night’s deeds had already been discovered, but still, what was going on?

“Then get unlost! In fact, get to the Welcoming Ceremony right now! That’s an order!”

Ah, yes, the mysterious Welcoming Ceremony.

“Of course, sir. Sure, sir. Right away, sir.” Wei Wuxian bowed and started moving in the direction of his brother and husband. He was stopped by the Wen officer’s hand on his arm.

“It’s the other way!”

Privately, Jiang Cheng was starting to wonder how the officer’s underlings hadn’t lost their hearing yet.

“Of course, right…” Wei Wuxian reversed course, yet the officer didn’t let go of him.

“I’ll send someone with you! So you won’t get lost again!”

The look the officer shot Lan Wangji had Jiang Cheng reconsider if he hadn’t realised something more was going on but was too busy to deal with it right now. The officer then gestured at some of his underlings.

“You! Escort them!”

As soon as they were around the corner and Jiang Cheng could be sure their two escorts weren’t looking, he elbowed Wei Wuxian in the ribs. “Are you trying to get us killed?”, he hissed.

Wei Wuxian looked at him, wounded, and hissed back. “It worked, didn’t it.”

“Only because he”, Jiang Cheng inclined his head towards Lan Wangji, “saved us. You dolt!”

Lan Wangji didn’t look moved by the faint praise in the slightest. In fact, if Jiang Cheng was learning to read him – and with the amount of time they’d been spending together, that was a distinct possibility – he looked rather miffed.

Ah yes – probably shouldn’t have elbowed Wei Wuxian earlier if he wanted the great Hanguang-Jun on his good side. Not that he cared.

Wei Wuxian, at any rate, seemed undaunted by both admonition and bodily harm, choosing instead to make a nuisance of himself by trying to see over the heads of their current handlers. “Where are we going anyway?”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “How am I supposed to know? Now be quiet!”

Miraculously, his brother chose to listen. As they continued following their escort in silence, Jiang Cheng reminded himself that if he held out long enough, he’d get to kill Wen Ruohan for it in the end.

Surely, that would be worth it.

There was no way this was going to be worth it, Jiang Cheng told himself as he followed Jin Zixuan home after another unsuccessful day of searching the Gusu Lan mountains. Unless, of course, they found the imposters, in which case he was reserving judgement – though at this point, he was beginning to wonder if they’d all been wrong, and this entire experience was nothing more than the result of some very confused minds. Or worse – a prank.

Today, he’d been forced to spend an entire hour enduring a stilted conversation about fish harvesting with the peacock. Short of a miracle, nothing could make up for that.

Wherever the imposters were – and Jiang Cheng had the growing suspicion it wasn’t in the Cloud Recesses anymore –, he hoped they were having an even worse time than he was. Impossible as that seemed.

Hundreds of miles north, Jiang Cheng was not having a good time. When he turned his head, he could tell Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji weren’t particularly enthused either. Or rather, Wei Wuxian didn’t and looking up the stairs leading up to the Scorching Sun Palace and thinking of the last time they’d stood at attention here, Jiang Cheng could make an educated guess regarding Lan Wangji.

All around them, long rows of men and women dressed in the same Wen soldier’s garb stood lined up, the midday sun burning down on them as they waited for the Welcoming Ceremony. Which was apparently the traditional greeting given to the Wen ruling family whenever they returned to Nightless City.

Jiang Cheng knew he had a reputation as something of a hardass as a sect leader, but even he’d never imagined being quite this pompous. It was almost enough to make a Jin weep.

Thanks to their status as latecomers, they’d been given a place right in the front row next to the stairs, which surely meant that Wen-zongzhu and his sons would pass right by them. Which would have been perfect for their purposes, except for the fact that there’d be a hundred or so witnesses to whatever they did. Which meant that Jiang Cheng would have to stand there and respectfully bow to vermin he’d much rather eviscerate. At the thought, he could feel his molars grinding against each other until he had to remind himself to unclench his jaw or risk injury.

After they’d stood this way for a while – Jiang Cheng was getting worried that by the time they were done here, his teeth would be no more than stumps – there was finally some movement down the line. A whisper travelled up the ranks in waves, “They’re here!”. Jiang Cheng felt into his robes for Sandu, hoping the feel of its hilt under his fingers would calm his racing thoughts. Looking down the line, he could see Wei Wuxian’s back was tight as a bow, and even Lan Wangji looked a little peaky.

“Remember, don’t do anything stupid!”, Jiang Cheng whispered, though he wasn’t sure if he was addressing them or himself. At any rate, it was good advice, looking at the masses of Wen soldiers around them. Nobody needed a second massacre here and – yes, better not to think about that right now.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Wei Wuxian’s voice sounded strained, but the hand that had been creeping towards Chenqing stilled.

Before Jiang Cheng could decide whether to count that as a win, another wave of whispers went through the waiting soldiers, and once it was through Jiang Cheng could see a group of people appear at the end of the corridor formed by the lines. It took him a moment to pick out Wen Ruohan, followed immediately by his sons. When he did it was as if something had punched the air out of his lungs. It took all he had not to react. Once he had himself back under control, he could feel a burning in his stomach starting up. He’d thought he hated the man, only that had been nothing, had been the flickering of a candle compared to a blazing forest now that he saw the three of them in the flesh.

They were walking down the line of soldiers, people bowing wherever they went like stalks of grain with the wind, and suddenly it didn’t seem so important that they were surrounded by dozens upon dozens of witnesses. All that mattered was quenching the fire that had sprung up within him, demanding satisfaction.

Wen Ruohan and his sons were closer now. Red was flashing behind Jiang Cheng’s eyes, the same colour as Wen Ruohan’s undertunics.

Twenty steps.

Jiang Cheng’s knuckles clenched white around Sandu’s hilt in his robes as he forced himself to bow down to the people who’d decimated his family.

Ten steps.

His mouth was dry as the desert hills in the Northern Nie territories. At the same time, sweat gathered at the nape of his neck and ran down to drip off his chin. The approaching footsteps sounded painfully loud.

Five steps.

His breath rasped in his ears. His legs were tensed up, as if ready to leap. He was not going to be able to stop himself.

Here.

Wen Ruohan was there, right in front of Jiang Cheng, his boots moving into his field of view. When Jiang Cheng chanced a glance up, he could see Wen Chao’s grinning face not half a step behind. He could taste blood in his formerly dry mouth – he’d bitten his tongue in his efforts not to move or shout, not to give anything away.

But he’d stayed still. He’d made it.

Then, just as Jiang Cheng started to force himself to relax the hand on his sword…

Wei Wuxian stepped forward.

Chapter Text

Time stood still and was moving much too fast at the same time. Jiang Cheng blinked, and between one second and the next, he found himself a step closer to Wen Ruohan, heart beating fast at the thought that they were actually going to do this, going to do this now, what was Wei Wuxian thinking there were too many people and…

Another blink, the rasp of Sandu sliding out of its scabbard in his ears, and then Wei Wuxian stretched out his hand and…

… patted Wen Ruohan’s robes?

Even with reflexes honed by years of fighting, Jiang Cheng would have had a hard time reversing his blade’s path in time had Sandu not dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers and slid back into its scabbard. On Wei Wuxian’s other side, Lan Wangji gave a barely noticeable jerk that let him know that his brother-in-law hadn’t been prepared for his husband’s antics either.

In the split second he’d taken his eyes off him, an attendant had pulled Wei Wuxian away from Wen Ruohan and pushed him back into the line of soldiers – at least he wasn’t going to be immediately decapitated for accosting Wen Ruohan in front of everyone.

Good. That meant Jiang Cheng could do that himself later.

Wei Wuxian bowed to Wen Ruohan, deep enough Jiang Cheng could see the back of his neck – Jiang Cheng had to supress a distasteful sneer at the thought of showing that level of respect to that man, he didn’t know how Wei Wuxian was managing without vomiting – and started to speak without coming back up:

“A thousand apologies, Wen Zongzhu, but there was a –“

“– a bee? You had to save Wen Ruohan from a bee?”

Wei Wuxian started to turn towards him. Jiang Cheng didn’t wait to hear his reply – there was no way whatever was going to come out of his mouth wasn’t going to be completely inane.

“And even if there was a bee, you should have let it sting him until…” A guard crossed the intersection of the corridor Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng were mopping up, and he barely managed stop talking in time. Now that they’d miraculously managed to scrape by what would surely have been a very public execution – no thanks to his brother – he really didn’t feel like tempting fate.

Once the guard had passed, Jiang Cheng returned to the topic at hand.

“I can’t believe you almost got us killed over a bee!”

Wei Wuxian scrunched up his face for a moment and then tried again. “Ah, that’s –“

Yeah, Wei Wuxian didn’t get to finish sentences. Not if he pulled shit like this.

“Unless there was no bee, which, I’m not sure if that would be better because if there wasn’t, it’s probably another of your hair-brained plans!”

The broomstick Jiang Cheng was holding creaked alarmingly in his hands. It occurred to him that he’d probably said the word “bee” more often in the last five minutes than he’d said it in the last five years.

From the corner of his eye, Jiang Cheng saw Lan Wangji’s left eyelid twitch just the slightest bit, which by now he’d learned to not only spot but also interpret as a sign that the man was getting annoyed. Or possibly catching a draft in the open hallway.

Either way, Jiang Cheng didn’t care. He was already annoyed enough for the both of them, and he wanted answers. Answers!

“So, you’re not going to say anything about the mysterious bee? I’m not surprised, that’s usually –“

“You’re right!”

“I am?” Jiang Cheng took a beat, then immediately caught himself. “Of course I am.”

Wei Wuxian for his part looked slightly wide-eyed, as if even he was surprised he’d finally managed to get a word in. Apparently, for once some kind of prompt was in order to get him to elaborate. “I’m right about…”

“There was no bee.” Wei Wuxian said, looking inexplicably proud of himself. The broom handle in Jiang Cheng’s hand gave way with a loud crack. Wei Wuxian’s face fell.

“If there was no bee, I hope you better have a really good explanation!” Jiang Cheng could have sworn he was using a reasonable tone of voice until he noticed Lan Wangji’s eyelid twitch again. Wei Wuxian had the audacity to actually flinch, then make a show of turning around to the intersection. “Shh, keep your voice down.”

“The fuck am I going to keep my voice down! You nearly made me start the war five years early!”

Wei Wuxian gestured urgently down the hallway, currently empty of anyone but the three of them. “If you go on like that, the guards will start paying attention!”

Jiang Cheng paused a moment to take a deep breath and remind himself his idiot brother had a point; he was never going to get to the bottom of this if the guards arrested them. He then continued, in a marginally more reasonable tone of voice – that is, in a tone absolutely not proportionate to the unreasonableness of the situation they found themselves in: “First you lie about the bee, and then you shush me!”

At the end of the corridor, one of the guards poked his head around the corner, and the three cultivators-in-disguise quickly busied themselves mopping up. Jiang Cheng quickly turned so his body concealed his broken broom.

Once the guard had wandered off again, Wei Wuxian lowered his broom from where he’d been poking at an imaginary spiderweb on the ceiling and returned his focus to Jiang Cheng, opening his mouth as if to start explaining. One look at Jiang Cheng’s face was evidently enough for him to reconsider his next words, for he swallowed and started again. “Really, A-Cheng, this is going to help us!”

Jiang Cheng realised that his face was, in fact, starting to hurt, and forced himself to lower the ferocity of his frown a notch.

“You do realise we only survived because Wen Ruohan didn’t want to make a scene in front of everybody?”

An oh, how that smarted. Once Wei Wuxian had finished his hastily stumbled apology, Wen Ruohan had barely roused himself enough to give them a contemptuous once-over before murmuring something to one of his military advisors and moving on. Jiang Cheng could only surmise that Wen Ruohan had thought dealing with them himself absolutely beneath him, which was good for their immediate survival but very, very bad for Jiang Cheng’s pride. And his palms, as he’d had to drive his fingernails into them to keep still.

It was only after the Welcoming Ceremony that the shouty officer – and no, he didn’t sound like Jiang Cheng, no matter what Wei Wuxian said – had found them and put them on cleaning detail as a punishment. Which was how they found themselves sweeping this backwater hallway, while Wen Ruohan and his evil offspring were still roaming around freely and very much alive.

In the here and now, Wei Wuxian still hadn’t explained anything. Forgetting that he’d broken it, Jiang Cheng tried to wring the handle of his broom in agitation and ended up with a splinter in his left thumb instead.

“Yes, but it solved our problem.” Wei Wuxian had the audacity to grin while he said it. To be fair, he didn’t know about the splinter. To be even more fair, he absolutely had no business grinning in the first place.

The broom handle cracked into even further pieces as Jiang Cheng used it as a crutch to control his temper. “That’s great! What problem? The problem that we’re too inconspicuous?” Usually, Wei Wuxian wouldn’t stop running his mouth like an Yunmeng waterfall, it figured that today of all days would be the day he chose to clam up. Clearly, his brother was constitutionally unable to not behave in the most annoying way possible.

Lan Wangji looked pointedly down the hallway before giving him a level look. Somehow, it was different from his usual level looks, and Jiang Cheng knew it was aimed at him. Great, so now he was the one causing the problem? Jiang Cheng glared back at the two of them and tried to resist the temptation of digging what was sure to be an enormous splinter out of his thumb. He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction.

“The problem that we can’t be sure where the Wen bastards are.” Wei Wuxian still looked way too satisfied with himself.

Jiang Cheng blinked, then reached out lightning-quick to crowd him against the wall. “And what does that mean?”

Rather than be intimidated, his brother gave a lazy look over Jiang Cheng’s shoulder – probably calling off his Lan attack dog – before smirking back up at him. “That I stuck one of my portable tracking arrays on his underrobes.”

“There’s no such thing as a portable tracking array.” If there were, Jiang Cheng would have stuck one on Jin Ling as soon as he could walk and saved himself a mountain of trouble. It turned out, toddlers were the absolute worst at getting into places they shouldn’t. Possibly worse than Wei Wuxian.

A flash of horror went through Jiang Cheng as he imagined the toddler Wei Wuxian must have been before he ruthlessly supressed that line of thought for the sake of his own sanity.

Thankfully, his brother didn’t seem to have noticed his lapse of attention and was still in full-on gloating mode. “There wasn’t… until I went and invented it!”

Jiang Cheng growled and let go of Wei Wuxian’s collar – when had his hands ended up there? – leaving a pinprick of blood behind where his thumb had been. “You’re telling me that now?”

Wei Wuxian straightened up, looking even more smug, if such a thing were even possible. “It’s all very experimental, but the theory works out and I think I’m about at the point where they might start working the way they’re meant to instead of –”

“What do you mean, might start working?” Leave it to his brother to use a situation like this to fiddle with one of his inventions. Lan Wangji reached out to unrumple the front of Wei Wuxian’s uniform. Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes at the obvious display of affection. He was about to tell them to save it for when they were alone when the sound of footsteps came towards them down the hallway, followed by an ear-splitting voice.

“Soldiers, assemble!”

Looking somewhat dismayed at having his thunder stolen, or possibly at having to leave his husband’s tender ministrations, Wei Wuxian extracted himself. “Guess we’ll have to play along a while longer”, he said, sounding way too chipper, before sauntering off. Jiang Cheng spent a moment stewing on the fact that nobody except for him was taking this situation seriously enough before realising he was falling behind and scrambling after the other two men after dumping his broken broom in the corner.

By the time he arrived, everyone else had already arrayed themselves in a neat little half-circle. Jiang Cheng slotted into the back next to his brother, hoping his late arrival wouldn’t be noticed. Wei Wuxian was still smirking. Jiang Cheng shot him a glare from the corner of his eye. “This isn’t over, you know”, he hissed.

Wei Wuxian’s mouth twitched. Lan Wangji, standing on his husband’s other side, leaned forward slightly to give Jiang Cheng a judgemental look before sliding back into place.

If they ever managed to get out of the Nightless City alive, Jiang Cheng was going murder them all. Or, alternatively, he was going to go home and pay an extensive visit to that one pond where those incredibly loud bullfrogs lived and you couldn’t even hear yourself think.

Nobody else believed him when he told them screaming along with the frogs was actually amazingly calming.

“… and you better succeed in finding them, because believe me, otherwise, you will regret it!”, the officer finished up. Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes. What had he missed?

“What’s going on?” he whispered, taking care only Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji would hear. He could be quiet if he wanted to, damnit!

“They’re trying to find Wen Zhuliu and the other guards,” Wei Wuxian hissed back in a tense voice, belying his easy-going posture.

Before Jiang Cheng could react to this information with the appropriate amount of dismay, the shouty officer transferred his attention to them.

“You! Since you’ve been a special pain in my neck, and you clearly can’t be trusted with anything important, I’ve got a special job for you. Everyone else, dismissed!”

The soldiers around them dispersed, presumably to comb the palace for Wen Zhuliu, never even knowing that he and his unlucky companions lay in eternal slumber on the floor of a supply closet. At least their mission was safe on that count.

As the officer came towards them, Wei Wuxian’s eyes grew wide, giving him an innocent expression that reminded Jiang Cheng of better days. Not that he’d ever been innocent, mind, but that expression had sure gotten them out of a bind. Or three.

Unfortunately, the officer seemed to be the rare person absolutely immune to Wei Wuxian’s charm.

“Now for your special assignment”, he started in a volume sure to peel paint straight from the wall, “there’s a supply closet with a stuck door over in the Hall of Contemplation…”

“And I hope you take the time to think long and hard…“, what did jiujiu always say during speeches like these? Oh, yes –, “…long and hard about the kind of cultivator you want to become.” Jin Ling nodded to himself - there, that sounded about right!

Xue Yang looked up at him from where he’d been scrubbing the wooden walkway leading up to the pantry shed. To Jin Ling’s displeasure, he didn’t look particularly chastised.

Odd. That line had always worked on him when he’d been small!

Instead, Xue Yang dropped the rag he’d been using and sat back on his heels, looking up at Jin Ling with barely concealed hope. “Does that mean you’re going to teach me how to be a cultivator?”

Jin Ling almost dropped his sword. “What? No! Where’d you get that idea?”

“You just said I’m going to be a cultivator.” Ah, that mulish tone was much more in line with what he expected of Xue Yang.

“I…” Jin Ling reviewed what he’d been saying and came to the conclusion that, oh, yes, he had. “I didn’t mean it like that! What I meant was, you need to start behaving properly!”

Xue Yang stared at his hands in his lap for a moment before meeting Jin Ling’s gaze again. “Why? Nobody else does it. Behaving properly doesn’t get you anything!”

Ugh, having to look after the kid was so annoying! How come Jin Ling had drawn the short straw again? The others must have been cheating! “That’s not how it works! You’re supposed to be a good example for everyone else.”

The kid gave his left hand one last tug and crossed his arms over his tiny chest. “A good example for who? It’s not like anyone cares what I do.”

Oh, for… “Well, maybe that’s the reason!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Jin Ling knew he’d said the wrong thing. Before he could take it back, Xue Yang jumped up, shoving past Jin Ling as he went. By the time Jin Ling had collected himself, he’d disappeared into the treeline. Jin Ling watched him go and tried to push down the uncomfortable feeling that had suddenly made itself at home in his chest. What did he care that Xue Yang of all people was upset? He could go and fall down a well for all Jin Ling cared!

Then again, jiujiu would probably not be happy if they lost Xue Yang, so he should better go and find him. Yeah, that must be the reason for that uncomfortable feeling.

To distract himself from the sudden urge to apologize, Jin Ling picked up the rag Xue Yang had used to wash the wooden planks and dropped it in the wash bucket, putting both to the side. The walkway was as clean as it was going to get, and it wasn’t like Jin Ling wanted to supervise any further punishment. Without quite meaning to, Jin Ling found himself following Xue Yang into the forest.

He didn’t have to search long. A few steps in, there was an uneven clanging sound, the source of which turned out to be Xue Yang, whacking a stick against a tree over and over again.

Jin Ling stopped a couple of trees away, trying to think of what to say. What would jiujiu do in this situation? Jin Ling scrunched up his face. Probably not do something so stupid in the first place!

Fed up with himself, Jin Ling forced himself to blurt out the first thing that came to mind: “You’re going to hurt your back like that.”

Xue Yang jumped, narrowing his eyes at him when he realised who’d spoken. “What do you mean?”

Jin Ling squared his shoulders, more confident now that they were on a topic he understood. “I said, you’re going to hurt your back if you swing it like that. First of all, you’ve got to keep your back straight. Like this.” With his sword still in its scabbard, he demonstrated the proper posture, landing a hit on an imaginary opponent. “See? That way, it’s much easier to stay in control of the blade.”

While Xue Yang was still looking at him with suspicion, there was a much less hostility in his expression, which Jin Ling counted as a win. Emboldened, he gestured at the boy: “You try again.”

Xue Yang shot him another mistrustful look. Despite this, when he pulled back his stick to hit the tree this time, it was clear he’d been paying attention to Jin Ling’s instructions and was trying to follow them. Invested despite himself, Jin Ling stepped forward. “That’s better, but you need keep your elbow lower, let me…“

To his surprise, Xue Yang let Jin Ling drag his arm into the proper position.

“You’re right, that feels much better!”, the boy said after he’d tried a couple of times more.

Jin Ling huffed. “Of course, didn’t I tell you? You’re going to need to know these things if you’re going to be a cultivator.”

Xue Yang smiled back at him, showing off the gaps in his milk teeth. Jin Ling hoped he hadn’t just made a huge mistake.

At least that feeling in his chest was gone.

After the life he’d lived, Jiang Cheng prided himself on being a decently pessimistic person – at least, that’s what people like his brother said. Personally, he merely considered himself someone with a firm grasp on how much life enjoyed kicking you when you were already down. Still, no matter what you called it, even he would have been hard pressed to imagine this particular scenario.

At least there was a silver lining - he could make sure his brother knew exactly who was to blame.

“What did you say again – by the time anyone finds them, we’ll be long gone?”, Jiang Cheng was trying to imitate his brother at his most annoying – and doing a pretty good job at it, if you asked him. Lan Wangji, who was standing next to the closet door trying to find the best angle to pretend to pry off the hinges in case another set of guards came by, stopped what he was doing to glare at him. Jiang Cheng was fairly sure he could tell by now, despite the fact that the man hadn’t moved a single facial muscle.

Wei Wuxian pulled a face from the side of the door, where he was fulfilling his self-appointed job of keeping the wall hanging that usually obscured the supply closet entrance out of the way. “Aiya, no need to repeat that!”

Jiang Cheng ignored the interruption and carried on. “We’ll be far away, and no one will ever find us!” As if to underscore his point, he’d barely finished speaking when a pair of guards entered the hall. Guards had been coming by frequently in the half hour they’d been here, proving that the search for Wen Zhuliu and the other missing Wen officers was in full swing.

This, of course, meant that it was almost impossible for them to simply sneak off and start looking for their targets, not unless they wanted to leave even more dead or incapacitated Wen soldiers in their wake, upping the chances they’d be discovered before fulfilling their self-appointed mission. Hence the need for more detailed planning, all while putting on a show of trying to break down the supply closet’s door as ordered whenever a patrol came by.

Giving Wei Wuxian one last sour look, Jiang Cheng shifted his weight to his back foot and kicked out with his other leg, knowing the patrolling soldiers wouldn’t be near enough to see he was merely giving the door a light tap. To the side of the door, Lan Wangji was pulling on the upper hinge with what seemed to be a lot of effort, though he knew the other man would only be using a fraction of his strength despite his muscles bulging under his stolen uniform.

As soon as the patrol had disappeared out the other side of the hall, Jiang Cheng stopped the charade he’d been keeping up for their benefit and relaxed back into a more comfortable stance. “We better figure out what to do soon or I swear I’m going to start kicking things for real!”

Wei Wuxian turned away from where he’d been watching his husband fake-pry at the door hinge of the supply closet, his face curiously red. “Huh?”, he said, eloquently.

At the sight of the shade of his brother’s face, a suspicion formed in Jiang Cheng’s mind. Ruthlessly crushing it, he told himself they simply didn’t have time for him to react appropriately to his brother’s shamelessness, besides, if he strangled the both of them, getting out of this mess would become that much harder.

“We need a plan!”, Jiang Cheng repeated, fighting flashbacks of the time he’d found a drunken Wei Wuxian composing poetry about his husband’s various muscle groups.

He still had nightmares about that evening, and not only because his brother’s rhyming skills were atrocious.

Said brother still hadn’t said a thing, so Jiang Cheng continued, “Unless you want to stay here until the stench of their corpses starts wafting out of that room, at which point we might as well turn ourselves in!”

Wei Wuxian suddenly straightened up, a smile catching on his features that had absolutely nothing to do with Lan Wangji. “A-Cheng, what a wonderful idea!”

Oh, that didn’t sound good at all. “Wei Wuxian, what –“

“A-Zhan, break that hinge!”

“– the fuck are you…” Jiang Cheng stopped in shock as Lan Wangji, after barely a second of eye contact with his husband, ripped off the hinge he’d only been pretending to destroy so far. The door sagged to the side immediately, and after that it took Lan Wangji no effort at all to completely dislodge it. A sharp stench drifted out from the small room behind, as Jiang Cheng had known it would.

He was livid. “Are both of you out of your minds?”

Wei Wuxian, the loon, was still grinning. “Don’t worry, this is going to work for sure.”

Before Jiang Cheng had time to form a reply, the patrol that had just left came running into the hall, likely called back by the sound of the hinge snapping. Immediately, Wei Wuxian turned to them, eyes going comically wide. “Oh no, they are all dead!”, he exclaimed, in a tone that had Jiang Cheng’s eyes rolling in their sockets. Thankfully, the new arrivals were too busy following the shaky hand Wei Wuxian was pointing at the dark entrance of the supply closet to pay attention to him. Lan Wangji, the traitorous hinge-snapper, hadn’t moved a muscle, though whether this was due to his customary stoicism or because he was used to his husband’s antics Jiang Cheng couldn’t tell.

While the guard’s backs were turned, Wei Wuxian pulled the other two men close. “Play along”, he said under his breath in a normal voice, then fell right back into histrionics, throwing out his arms in distress at the discovery. “You can’t be serious?”, Jiang Cheng complained, grabbing his brother’s shoulder, but by now the soldiers had completed their first cursory inspection of the bodies. Jiang Cheng let go of Wei Wuxian and stepped away so he’d have room to manoeuvre if it came to a fight. The distance would also make it harder for him to throttle his brother should the immediate need overwhelm him, which at this point seemed quite possible.

“What happened?” One of the members of the former search-slash-patrol team said, proving that he wasn’t the sharpest arrow in the quiver. Jiang Cheng had to bite his tongue to keep from reacting. In the time it had taken to get himself under control, Lan Wangji had taken up the torch.

“A tragedy - the great Wen Zhuliu has been slain”, he said, staring the soldier straight in the eye as he did. Had this been any other situation, Jiang Cheng would have had to give him credit for at least going to the effort of forming a proper sentence.

In this particular situation, it only served to draw attention to themselves, making them seem like hapless fools. Which Jiang Cheng was fairly sure was the point.

He could practically feel his brother’s gaze boring into the side of his face, and he chanced a quick glance only to see Wei Wuxian give him a tiny, encouraging nod. Jiang Cheng wondered if it was too late to leave these two to their fate and get out while he still could.

Probably.

Besides, if he left his brother alone, he’d likely get himself killed. And then A-Ling and the other Juniors would be sad, because for some unfathomable reason they’d grown fond of the idiot.

Yes, he definitely couldn’t let A-Ling be sad.

Having justified his future actions thus, Jiang Cheng restricted himself to quickly and discreetly glaring back at his brother before contributing to their charade. “Oh no, whoever could have done such a thing?”, he wondered aloud for the two soldiers’ benefit, gesturing for extra emphasis.

The soldier who hadn’t yet spoken narrowed his eyes at them before turning to his companion. “I’m getting officer Luo”, he said, his tone clearly indicating that he considered the entire situation above his paygrade and, worse, a supreme bother. With one last look at them, he turned on his heel and abandoned his companion, quick footsteps echoing through the hall after him.

To his left, Wei Wuxian was clearly struggling not to appear altogether too satisfied. Since the remaining soldier had elected to wait a clear distance away from them – a smart choice considering what was likely heading their way, maybe Jiang Cheng’s first impression had been wrong after all – and was currently fiddling with a button on his uniform instead of paying attention to his surroundings, Jiang Cheng felt safe leaning into his brother’s ear.

“I hope you’re happy now – that officer’s definitely going to use us as scapegoats.”

A hard glint entered Wei Wuxian’s eyes, though his tone was still smug. “I’m counting on it. Let’s hope he kicks us all the way up the chain.”

Yes, that was exactly what Jiang Cheng had been afraid of.

The sun was setting by the time Jin Ling and his temporary disciple – he still couldn’t quite believe that had happened – made their way back to the manor. The wind had picked up during the afternoon, enough so that Jin Ling had found it prudent to grab the smaller boy the back of his robes lest he be blown off the path, and by the time the two reached the rooms the group had been given a drizzle had joined it. Wet and cold, Jin Ling was starting to be well and truly miserable.

Xue Yang, on the other hand, wasn’t feeling any of it.

“Guess what happened!” He yelled, pushing open the door, “Jin Ling showed me how to best hit people!”

“You did what?”, Zizhen cried, outraged. Jingyi put down the writing brush he’d been fiddling with. “You know”, he said, “there’s safer ways of getting out of having to babysit him next time.”

Jin Ling nudged the kid further into the room, then closed the door behind him. “That’s not true.” He frowned, realising his meaning could be misconstrued. Before he could clarify, Xue Yang had started spinning around the room, so pleased with the world he hadn’t even noticed Zizhen calling him a baby. He stuck out his skinny arm started hitting an imaginary opponent with an equally imaginary sword. “You do it like this, and this, and like this!” With every swing, rainwater dripped everywhere as if to further underline his point.

Jin Ling had to admit, not without pride, that his form was definitely much better than it had been earlier that afternoon.

Zizhen turned an accusatory glare at Jin Ling. “We leave you two alone for an afternoon, and you start giving him murder tips?”

“I wasn’t giving him murder tips!” Jin Ling finally managed to catch Xue Yang’s arm. “Stop it! You’re going to knock something over.”

Xue Yang scoffed angrily, though he didn’t start up again when Jin Ling let go of his arm. “You said I need to practise. How am I going to get better if I don’t practise?”

“No practising in the house!”, Jin Ling said, feeling faintly ridiculous. Xue Yang crossed his arms over his puny chest and scowled up at him.

“Stop that. If you’re going to be a cultivator, you need to listen to your teachers!”, Jin Ling said, only realising what he’d said after he’d said it. Jingyi, the traitor, took one look at his expression and started sniggering.

At least that seemed to have done the trick as far as Xue Yang was concerned. The boy stopped scowling and shrugged out of his wet outer robes, leaving with a last calculating look to go change in the next room. Jingyi turned around to Sizhui, who, as Jin Ling only now noticed, was sitting at a small writing desk in the corner, staring at some parchment. “You see that? I think Jin Ling has managed to housetrain the kid!”

“That’s nice”, Sizhui said, clearly not paying the slightest attention. Jin Ling stepped closer, barely noticing how his own robes were now dripping all over the floor. “What are you doing?”

“He’s writing a message to warn everyone one here of what’s coming.” Jingyi said, scratching behind his right ear and looking thoughtful. After a moment, he shrugged. “Might come. You know what I mean.”

Jin Ling forgot all about the water running down the back of his collar. “I thought we agreed that was a bad idea?”

Sizhui looked up, proving that he’d been paying at least some attention after all. “No, you decided it was, and then nobody else had a better idea!” Jin Ling didn’t think he’d ever heard Sizhui be so belligerent, and he had to concentrate to stop his mouth from dropping open in surprise. Sizhui – probably realising he’d just broken some of the trillion Lan rules – grimaced and went back to staring at what he’d been writing. Or not writing. Jin Ling could see now that there wasn’t an awful lot on the page yet. “I need to do something, so unless you’ve got a better idea, this is it.”

Jin Ling didn’t have a lot to say to that, so instead of arguing he followed Xue Yang to change out of his wet clothes. He was almost done by the time there was a knock on the door. Jin Ling quickly tied off his sash and reached up to check if his headpiece was sitting properly, only to remember at the last second that he’d left it at the goldsmith’s in Yunping City. Taking a deep breath to center himself, he returned to the main room.

Wen Ning was at the door. “It’s fine, you’re not interrupting us at all”, Jingyi was saying. Even Sizhui had given up his post at the writing desk to come closer. A quick glance showed that Xue Yang was keeping his distance in one of the corners, though at least he didn’t seem to be up to any mischief.

Wen Ning stepped inside, leaving the umbrella he’d been carrying by the door. “Th-thank you.”

The four of them stared at each other awkwardly until Wen Ning bowed. “I w-would like to f-formally invite you to lunch tomorrow on b-behalf of my sister. She would v-very much like to meet you.” Over his head, Jin Ling exchanged a quick glance with Zizhen. They’d both been wondering why they hadn’t met Wen Qing yet.

Taking their cue from Sizhui – this was his family, after all – the four of them bowed as well as soon as Wen Ning came up for air. “We would be honoured to attend”, Sizhui accepted for them all. More awkward small talk followed, and before long, Wen Ning was on his way again, duties fulfilled. Xue Yang slunk out of his corner and back to the other room. Jin Ling wondered if he should order him to go to sleep – he had a vague idea that children his age ought to be in bed by now.

“An invitation from the lady of the manor? Looks like we’re making some waves”, Jingyi said, pulling Jin Ling out of trying to remember when he’d turned in at that age. He pulled a face. “That’s not good. People shouldn’t even know we’re here at all!”

“Maybe it’ll give us some new ideas”, Zizhen, ever the peacemaker, said while glancing at Sizhui’s half-written letter.

Jin Ling tried to remember what he knew about Wen Qing. It wasn’t much – jiujiu had never liked talking about that part of his past much, and he’d only caught enough in the aftermath of a Discussion Conference when jiujiu had had a bit too much of Nie-zongzhu’s baijiu to gather she’d been important to him –, but from what he’d heard, she’d been extremely shrewd.

They’d have to watch out.

Jiang Cheng stared at the closed doors to the Wen family’s official reception chamber and tried to prepare himself for finally getting to chop off Wen Ruohan’s head. On the one hand, he thought he ought to feel at least some guilt for technically coming here without prior provocation. On the other hand… Jiang Cheng took a moment to listen to his innermost feelings.

Nope. Not even a smidgeon of guilt. He didn’t think any was going to show up, either.

Wei Wuxian’s plan had worked like a charm, and they’d been swiftly kicked up the ladder of command, none of the officers eager to be the one to tell Wen Ruohan his right-hand man had been murdered in his own home. The last, an older man with a giant bushy moustache hanging down either side of his chin, had practically shoved them into the small antechamber they were waiting in now before closing the door with an unremorseful “Better you than me, lads”. The only downside of their swift rise to meet the upper echelons of the Wen clan was that his brother was going to be absolutely insufferable with success.

Then again, Wei Wuxian was always insufferable, and provided they all survived, Jiang Cheng thought he could be the better man and let it go this time. And there was no way they wouldn’t survive.

Failure was not an option.

Jiang Cheng gripped his sword tighter. Any moment now, the door was going to open, and they’d be face to face with the chance to change the world’s future for the better. He took a deep breath and started going through one of the mental exercises he’d learned as a child to deepen concentration. This was the moment they’d been waiting for, the moment…

An elbow to his side ripped him from his thoughts.

It turned out to be Wei Wuxian’s elbow, who was in his husbands embrace, and the two were –

“What are you doing?”, he hissed, remembering at the last second to keep his volume down. It looked like they were making out, but surely even his brother couldn’t be that shameless?

Wei Wuxian didn’t even have the decency to blush as he untangled his face from Lan Wangji’s and turned to Jiang Cheng, one arm still on his husband who, Jiang Cheng couldn’t help noticing, rather than shaking it off seemed to be leaning in. “Oh! You done brooding?”

Jiang Cheng scowled. “Don’t change the topic!”

A change came over his brother’s face, and he turned serious, letting go of Lan Wangji. “Wen Ruohan is in there. We’re going to fight him soon. Who knows if we’ll make it out.”

Jiang Cheng turned to face the door, suddenly uncomfortable. Well, more uncomfortable. “Of course we’ll make it out, don’t be ridiculous.” He ignored the way Wei Wuxian’s words echoed the thoughts he’d had just moments before. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lan Wangji reach for Wei Wuxian’s hand again, saw Wei Wuxian reaching back.

And if there was a small part of him that maybe wanted to hold someone’s hand too, sometimes – well, he was good at squashing that part. In fact, he didn’t need to hold anyone’s hand, least of all Lan Wangji’s.

Still, when moments later Wei Wuxian leaned towards him so their shoulders touched, he didn’t comment.

They waited like that until there was movement behind the antechamber’s door. Jiang Cheng straightened. Next to him, Wei Wuxian’s hand snaked down towards Chenqing, still hidden in his robes. “Looks like things are starting to happen.”

“Mhm”, Lan Wangji commented, and for once, Jiang Cheng understood him flawlessly.

The doors opened.

Chapter Text

Jiang Cheng barely noticed the servants being dismissed as the big double door fell shut behind them.

The room they had stepped into was decorated in reds and blacks, giving it an oppressive atmosphere. Jiang Cheng thought longingly of the light, airy designs at Lotus Pier, where there were few rooms that didn’t lead directly out to one of the ponds or at least the gardens in one way or another – obviously, Lotus Pier was much more beautiful.

And no, Jiang Cheng didn’t only think that because he was biased.

He still remembered spending hours in rooms such as this in frantic meetings immediately after the end of the Sunshot Campaign, trying to forge a new world order, desperate not to let anybody see how out of his depth he felt.

At least back then, they’d lighted the place properly.

Now, with the Wen Sect at its height, the candles were all placed behind red screens, bathing the room in a bloody glow that raised the fine hair on Jiang Cheng’s neck. He refused to let it bother him, telling himself it was nothing but the draft from the high ceiling, held up by four tall, black pillars intricately carved with scenes from what Jiang Cheng supposed was the Wen Sect’s history.

Instinct kicked in. This might have been a minor audience chamber, but unless things went completely sideways (always a possibility with Wei Wuxian involved, and that was before you factored in Wen Ruohan), it would also soon be a battlefield – better to get the lay of the land now.

Behind them, there was a set of big double doors. Immediately across from the entrance, past the firepit in the middle of the room ringed by the pillars, steps lead up to a dais. The wall to the right of the dais held what looked to be a small private library, shelves upon shelves filled with books and scrolls; to the left, seat cushions were neatly arranged around a low table. The entire back wall behind the dais was taken up by a huge woven wall hanging showing Nightless City that would have looked ostentatious even in Koi Tower.

And in front of it, as if posing for a family portrait, were the current leading members of the Wen family.

Seeing them, Jiang Cheng had to swallow down bile and remind himself that striking now might well give away their advantage.

Wen Chao was standing halfway down the steps, looking at the newcomers with a bored expression on a face framed by greasy hair. His brother was on the other side of the dais, standing by a small reading desk next to the library. Judging by what looked to be a letter still in his hands, he’d been in the process of sifting through some missives.

And at the top of the Dais, Wen Ruohan, lounging in an intricately carved, almost throne-like chair, with an attitude as if the world belonged to him. He raised a hand, beckoning them to step around the fireplace.

Oh, how Jiang Cheng longed to be the end of them all! His breath hitched, his grip tightening on Sandu’s hilt underneath his robes. He itched to slide it out of its scabbard and put it to good use, perhaps by pinning Wen Ruohan against the wall so his sons could experience how it felt to see your father’s lifeless body. Or maybe he’d carve that stupid expression off Wen Chao’s face first so Wen Ruohan would have the displeasure of knowing his line was going to end with him before his own demise?

Ah – decisions, decisions. What was the plan anyway? In fact, why didn’t they have more of a plan?

It was around this time that Jiang Cheng realised that, if they’d really been Wen soldiers, they’d be bowing right about now.

Pah, he was definitely not subjecting himself to that indignity again – not that his companions seemed to be particularly eager to, either.

Before Jiang Cheng’s thoughts could spiral any further, a rude voice interrupted them. “Hey, isn’t that bee guy?” Wen Chao walked down the dais’ steps to point his finger at Wei Wuxian, which – rude. Only Jiang Cheng got to be rude to Wei Wuxian! Oh, how he was going to enjoy teaching the bastard a – hopefully final – lesson.

His blood singing in anticipation, he took a deep breath and loosened his shoulders, hoping that if anybody noticed the movements, they would put them down to a lowly Wen retainer fighting nervousness at being brought into his leader’s exultant presence.

As if.

Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian had given up trying to hide his face behind his bangs and was looking faintly irritated he’d been recognized. Good – maybe that’d teach him to make a spectacle of himself!

“Wen-xiaogongzi is too kind, it was an honour to assist Wen-zongzhu”, Wei Wuxian finally got out, a bit less smooth than usual. By the way a muscle jumped on his forearm, Jiang Cheng could only guess he was clenching his fist around Chenqing in his pocket. His eyes narrowed the tiniest bit – it seemed his brother had been contemplating starting their scheduled massacre and decided at the last moment not to get down to business yet.

About that…

He didn’t know what kind of second thoughts Wei Wuxian was harbouring, but there was no time like the present. Weighing the pros and cons of simply striking first and trusting his companions to follow, he almost missed Wen Ruohan’s next words.

“Oh, I think we’ve got something far more interesting here. Not that I’d expect you to notice.” Jiang Cheng had to fight the automatic instinct to hunch into himself at the universal tone of fatherly disapproval before he realised that firstly, he wasn’t the one being chastised and secondly, Wen Ruohan was definitely not his father.

Then he registered the meaning of what Wen Ruohan had said and his mouth went dry. Next to him, Wen Wuxian’s hand twitched for Chenqing again.

Wen Ruohan himself was not done making the most of what he clearly saw as a teachable moment, transferring his attention to his other son. “Maybe your brother has something else to add?”

Wen Xu, not wanting to be lumped in with his brother, put down the parchment he had been fiddling with and turned his full attention on them. It was hard to remember beyond all that had happened between their families during the war, but Jiang Cheng hazily recalled meeting him at various discussion conferences when he was a child, trying not to trip over his own feet, say something stupid or do anything else that might embarrass his parents. This time, it was Jiang Cheng trying to hide his face as Wen Xu’s eyes narrowed, and – there it was, the dawning of recognition in his eyes.

“Jiang Wanyin?” Wen Xu sounded puzzled.

Great, that was going to be a problem. Or it would be, if they’d been planning on letting anyone leave this room alive.

The shadows from the firepit painted Wen Ruohan large against the tapestry-covered wall as he rose. “…and Wei Wuxian. Tell me, what is the Jiang Sect’s business here?” At least nobody had recognised Lan Wangji yet; likely because the Lan Wangji of this time, being neither a first-born son nor a favourite, had only recently started attending official functions; or perhaps it was the lack of his sect’s customary white robes.

Wei Wuxian, eyes going wide, affected innocence. “The Jiang Sect? Wen-zongzhu, what are you –“

In a flash, Wen Ruohan was halfway down the dais, looming over them and making it hard for Jiang Cheng to keep his composure “Don’t act like I am stupid! I knew who you were as soon as you played your little trick earlier. What I cannot figure out is why. I was going to let you implicate yourselves further before having you apprehended, though it seems you have decided to come to me instead…” He raised his chin, looking down at them with his arrogance on full display. “So you see, the game is up. You can either tell me why you are here now, or Wen Zhuliu will assist you in finding your voice later; he should be here any second. Either way, you better hope your parents are ready to pay a pretty sum for you.”

“I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible”, Wei Wuxian said.

Wen Ruohan took a beat to look Wei Wuxian up and down before answering. “Maybe not for you, bastard. But I am sure Jiang Fengmian would like to have his heir back.”

Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure what happened next. One moment he was standing in front of the firepit, and the next he was at the foot of the dais with Wei Wuxian’s hand gripping his shoulder like a vice. “Let me go”, he hissed between clenched teeth, the amused sparkle in Wen Ruohan’s eyes stoking the fire of his anger further. Wei Wuxian squeezed his shoulder once, either in warning or support, before removing his hand. It was only then that Jiang Cheng noticed Lan Wangji had come forward as well, glaring up the dais in a way that for once was easy to read.

Where Jiang Cheng ran hot, Wei Wuxian’s voice was clipped and cold – if not mockingly polite – when he addressed Wen Ruohan: “Apologies, I misspoke. What I meant was that you will not be able to rely on Wen Zhuliu on this or any further matters.”

Wen Xu, who had come to flank his father together with his brother, raised a haughty brow and fell for the trap before his father could quell him with a gesture. “I hardly think you are one to dictate Huadan Shou’s time.”

Wei Wuxian leaned forward slightly, as if imparting a secret: “Perhaps. It will be rather hard, though, for him to do anything. Seeing as we killed him.”

The Wen sons flinched back. Even Wen Ruohan looked stricken for a second. Jiang Cheng noticed the other man’s knuckles tighten around the hilt of his sword, and his own sword hand spasmed in response. Before anything could come of it, Wen Ruohan regained control over himself.

“Preposterous. For the likes of you to best a man such as him…”

That did it. Sandu was already halfway out its sheath by the time Jiang Cheng’s mouth caught up with his actions. “I enjoyed it, and I’ll enjoy gutting you like a fish.”

That seemed to finally get through. Wen Ruohan’s face turned red as his infamous temper took over. “I’ll have you sent home in pieces!”

Jiang Cheng roared right back. “You just try!”

Seconds later, their swords clashed.

The next morning dawned early, with Sizhui up at daybreak to go commune with his Wen relatives – and hopefully not dropping hints of everyone’s potential future demise left and right. There was changing the future, and then there was getting stuck because someone had decided they were quite too suspicious to be roaming around freely. Surely, whatever jiujiu was doing, he was going to be more subtle than that.

A shiver ran down Jin Ling’s back and he blinked.

Then Xue Yang dropped his brush onto his inkstone with a force that was entirely inappropriate, splashing ink all over the table and the parchment he was using, and the moment was lost.

“This is boring!”, Xue Yang exclaimed, head flopping down on the table. When he came back up, more ink was smeared liberally over his cheek. “I already know how to write!”

Jin Ling cursed the fact that he’d been officially declared the Only Person Xue Yang Listened To by his friends, which meant that he was stuck with the brat while they got to follow Sizhui around while he met his extended family.

Traitors.

In a vain attempt to save his sanity from having to deal with an overly active Xue Yang, he’d taken the boy to the library hoping he’d be able to entertain himself with some books, only to realise the boy was barely literate.

Case in point, the parchment in front of Xue Yang, now covered in dark, unsightly ink spots – well, even more dark, unsightly ink spots. The boy’s technique was atrocious. Jin Ling held the parchment up between two fingers. “This isn’t writing, this is chicken scratch.”

“That’s too not chicken scratch! That’s my name!”

Jin Ling narrowed his eyes and inspected the uneven strokes. “That’s not your name. I think this says… ‘Insufferable nuisance’?” At least, Jin Ling thought it did – if you moved some of the strokes around.

Xue Yang’s eyes went wide and he jumped up. “I’ll kill Yang-gege! I paid him good coins to show me how to write my name!” He made to storm out of the library, and Jin Ling barely managed to snatch him by the back of his robes. “Hey, stop, where do you think you’re going?”

Xue Yang’s hands were bunched in fists. “I told you, I’m going to get Yang-gege for this!” Jin Ling was suddenly glad they weren’t in Yunping City anymore – he had no doubt that, whoever this Yang-gege was, he was going to regret messing with Xue Yang.

“I’m assuming this Yang-gege isn’t currently withing easy walking distance, so why don’t you…” ‘sit down and continue with the lesson’, Jin Ling had meant to say, but looking at the hurt masked by anger on the boy’s face, he changed his mind. “You know what, help me straighten this place out and then we’ll go practice sword forms for a bit, how about that?”

The angry frown on Xue Yang’s face cleared up immediately. “Yes!”

“…after you’ve had a good wash.”

“Nooooo.”

Some basic stances and an additional trip to the wash house later, Jin Ling’s group of five showed up to lunch only to find it was a much more formal affair than they’d expected, held to welcome Wen Qing back to the manor after she’d been away for some time due to official sect business. There were a good three dozen people present from all over the valley, milling around in the reception hall before lunch began in earnest.

Jin Ling would have voiced reservations if only Sizhui hadn’t looked so thrilled at the prospect of meeting everyone. Besides, what were they going to do? Considering they’d been personally invited, leaving now would have drawn even more attention. In no time at all, Sizhui was pulled in to talk with his parents – not that they were aware of that. It was easy to see the resemblance, and that realisation churned uneasily in Jin Ling’s gut, considering it was his family who’d likely murdered them.

Jin Ling didn’t have long to dwell on the feeling, though, because a hand landed on his arm. He shrugged it off and turned around. “Hey!”

“Jin Zilan, Ouyang Zhen, fancy meeting you here!” Wen Bai’s smiling face greeted him.

Jin Ling stared at him in confusion for a moment before he recalled that those were the fake names they’d given. “Wen Bai. Wen Bao.”

He stared some more, waiting for them to properly greet him.

It was beginning to get awkward.

Only when Zizhen elbowed him did he realise – as someone who was definitely not the Jin sect leader, he was the one expected to defer. He flushed, hurriedly joining Zizhen in a bow before coming back up. He could only hope his faux pas had not been spotted.

By the way Wen Bao was biting her lip, it was a vain hope.

Still, if they found any of their behaviour odd, at least the twins had the grace not to mention it. Instead, Wen Bao pulled at the sash of the formal dress she was wearing – Jin Ling had the impression she didn’t often wear fancy clothes – and addressed him. “So you’ve been invited to the party, huh? And that must be the kid I’ve heard so much about.” She nodded her head at Xue Yang, who’d snuck up to stand next to Jin Ling.

Xue Yang puckered up his face. “You’ve heard of me?”

“Only bad things.” Wen Bao assured him with a laugh. Jin Ling felt a flash go down his back. What had Xue Yang been up to that he hadn’t noticed?

Xue Yang preened while Wen Bao turned her attention back to Jin Ling. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to our parents and then we can go off and talk about something that’s actually fun instead of the latest regional inspection tour or whatever.”

Jin Ling had no idea what she meant by that, but she certainly didn’t seem enthusiastic about it.

Wen Bai grimaced. “Sorry, she hates these receptions. She thinks they’re boring.”

It was obvious Wen Bao was restraining herself from rolling her eyes only by the skin of her teeth – and that likely only because of the older woman who’d spotted their group and was now bearing down on them. “Because they are. Now smile while you meet my mother, and maybe I’ll show you where the best seats are.” Jin Ling looked around. Sizhui was being introduced to yet more relatives, and Jingyi, having spent more time with the family over the last few days than any of them except Sizhui, was playing with the toddler who’d turned out to be Sizhui’s brother.

Telling himself he was worrying over nothing, Jin Ling gave in.

“Sure, why not.”

Provoking Wen Ruohan personally by attacking him directly might have been a mistake, Jiang Cheng thought.

Or he would have thought so, had he had the time between dodging Wen Ruohan’s blows and making sure that Wen Chao, the little shit, didn’t hit him from behind. Which wasn’t that much of a problem, really, considering Wen Chao’s targeting skills were as dismal as ever and, judging by the fact that a golden cup had just almost clipped his father’s cheek, he’d already run out of throwing knives.

Apart from that, Jiang Cheng didn’t have time to notice much. Wen Rohan was as adept at handling his sword as his son was inept, making him a terrifying opponent that required all of Jiang Cheng’s concentration unless he wanted to end the day with his insides on the outside – and it didn’t help that Jiang Cheng was wearing a Wen soldier’s bulky uniform rather than his familiar robes. He could tell by the sounds of fighting that somewhere behind him on the other side of the firepit, Lan Wangji was clashing with Wen Xu, keeping the more competent Wen brother occupied and probably getting some sweet revenge of his own in, provided the Lan Sect rules allowed for such base pleasures. Jiang Cheng had no idea where Wei Wuxian was, which probably meant he’d strike at the instant everyone expected it the least.

Something to deal with later.

Jiang Cheng ducked another sword swipe and used the movement as a distraction to snap Zidian out towards his opponent’s ankle. Wen Ruohan side stepped it expertly, the purple streak no more than glancing the outside of his boot – still enough to hurt, but not enough to cripple him in any significant way. Still, the hit left him unbalanced, gaining Jiang Cheng precious seconds. He used them to jump halfway up the dais, giving himself a moment to survey the room and see that Lan Wangji and his opponent had moved on into the rows of scrolls. As he was watching, the outermost row toppled over, spilling scrolls across the floor on that side of the room. Several of them rolled directly into the firepit, igniting with little puffs. Suddenly, Wei Wuxian appeared, darting out of what was left of the private library and picking up one of the scrolls, already smouldering at one end. “Duck!”, he called, and then lobbed it straight at Jiang Cheng’s face.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened in automatic outrage before his brain caught up, but his body was already moving to dodge the flying projectile. He followed its path with his eyes as it sailed past him – and straight into Wen Chao’s forehead, who was trying to sneak up on him using the throne at the top of the dais as cover.

Or maybe he’d been trying to hide there - he was cowardly enough for that to be a distinct possibility.

Now sporting an angry red streak across his face, Wen Chao screeched and dashed the scroll to the floor, where it ignited the ostentatious tapestry covering the wall, flames starting to lick up its bottom. Dark satisfaction filled Jiang Cheng – how about Wen Chao see his home go up in flames for once!

The inattention cost him immediately, as a flash of pain streaked down his upper arm and gave him barely enough warning to wrench himself out of the way before a now caught-up Wen Ruohan could do more than superficial damage. Wen Ruohan didn’t let up, and Jiang Cheng found himself ascending further to the top of the dais, uncomfortably aware that Wen Chao was still up there, and even he was unlikely to miss an adult-sized target at this distance. He grunted as he caught one of Wen Ruohan’s full-bodied swipes on Sandu’s blade, the back of his heel colliding with the rise of the dais’ top step and probably putting him in danger of falling flat on his arse if he hadn’t already been tensing his body in preparation for hurling the momentum of Wen Ruohan’s strike right back at him. Wen Ruohan gritted his teeth as the move forced him to put his weight on his bad foot.

“I’m going to enjoy breaking you”, he spat into Jiang Cheng’s face, the flames from the tapestry – now completely ablaze – reflecting in his eyes.

Feeling a ball of white-hot rage cursing through him, Jiang Cheng almost forgot himself, but before he could raise his arm for a premature killing blow – leaving himself wide open in the process – there was a loud crash as a large section of the tapestry came down, sending a plume of flame and smoke across the room and separating Wen Ruohan and Jiang Cheng as both sought not to be crushed by the weight of half a wall’s worth of burning fabric. By the time Jiang Cheng came up for air, he found himself next to the seating area he’d noticed earlier.

Less than a sword’s length away, Wen Chao, burn marks marring the left side of his body, was trying to put out his robes while trying to simultaneously not cough out his lungs. He hadn’t noticed Jiang Cheng yet.

Jiang Cheng didn’t believe there was something like a fair fight against someone like Wen Chao. Still, he’d been looking forward to making this slow…

Ah well.

He was about to stab Wen Chao from behind when something pushed the other cultivator into the wall, causing the last remaining portion of burning tapestry to come down on top of him. There was a sharp cry. Wei Wuxian materialized out of nowhere next to Cheng Jiang. The two brothers looked down as Wen Chao fought to get out from underneath the fabric, muffled screams already starting to taper off. “That kill was supposed to be mine this time!”, Jiang Cheng complained. Then, without waiting for a reply, he stabbed Sandu into the now only sluggishly moving bundle, just for good measure.

And revenge. Most definitely for revenge.

Before he could do it again – and oh, he wanted to – he was interrupted by a loud bellow from the other side of the room. Apparently, daddy dearest had noticed his son’s demise. Wei Wuxian, who’d been watching Jiang Cheng’s actions rather appreciatively up until that point, cocked his head in the direction the shout had come from and was off like a shot.

Jiang Cheng swore.

Then, he followed.

Chapter Text

Hurrying after Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng skirted the brightly burning dais and emerging out of the smoke on the other side to find Lan Wangji and Wen Xu still locked in a duel. While Jiang Cheng had been busy dealing with Wen Ruohan and then Wen Chao, Lan Wangji had managed to corner Wen Xu on the other side of the room. Even if Wen Xu’s dark robes hadn’t sported several suspiciously bloody-looking patches, it was easy to see who had the upper hand.

Lan Wangji drew his arm back for what looked to be a killing blow when Jiang Cheng noticed what had drawn Wei Wuxian: An enraged Wen Ruohan, bearing down on Lan Wangji’s unprotected back from behind. Jumping over a pile of destroyed furniture, Jiang Cheng rushed to close the distance between them and, as soon as he was in range, snapped out his arm. Zidian unfurled, this time striking true and curling around Wen Ruohan’s sword arm at the same time as someone barrelled into him from the side, wrenching him into two directions at once. With a grunt of pain, Wen Ruohan dropped his sword, only to catch it with his other arm and strike at Wei Wuxian – and of course it had been Wei Wuxian who’d been foolhardy enough to bodily tackle Wen Ruohan. The strike went wide as Wei Wuxian stepped back. Too late to stop his momentum, Wen Ruohan overbalanced and stumbled further away from them.

At the sickening sound of metal sliding out of flesh, Jiang Cheng’s eyes jerked to the corner to see Lan Wangji step back from Wen Xu, flicking blood off Bichen in the process. Wen Xu was on the floor, hands grasping at the hole in his chest in a vain attempt to hold in life before his body went slack. Jiang Cheng took a deep, steady breath – they’d almost made it, now all that was left was to cut the head off the snake.

Seeing what had happened to his son, Wen Ruohan let out a hoarse cry. He had ended up between the main entrance and the fireplace, his shadow flickering over the walls, cast by the roaring flames that were even now eating their way through the back half of the room. His hair, which had been immaculate every other time Jiang Cheng had seen the man, was a mess, his left arm hanging limply by his side. Jiang Cheng’s own hand clenched in satisfaction at the sight, his thumb stroking Zidian as he reminded himself not to make the mistake of underestimating the man.

Jiang Cheng noticed his compatriots had lined up next to him as if they’d planned this moment. For a few breaths, the battle came to a standstill as both sides sized up the other.

“I should have destroyed your wretched sect decades ago”, Wen Ruohan finally broke the silence – or as silent as the room could be, with half of it merrily burning away. As if to underscore that statement, someone banged on the door. It didn’t budge – the heat from the fire must have warped the frame. For once, it seemed luck was on their side.

“You’re never going to destroy anything again!” Jiang Cheng could fell the hate pool in his belly, rubbing up against the Golden Core that wasn’t really his. One way or another, this was going to be over soon.

It was hard to tell in the flickering light, but Jiang Cheng could have sworn something sparked in Wen Ruohan’s eyes. “Oh, there’s nothing going to be left of Lotus Peer or the Cloud Recesses when I’m done with them!” Barely having finished speaking, Wen Ruohan raised his sword and ran at them. Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng scattered, and the battle resumed.

It was not a fair fight – they had years of battle experience Wen Ruohan knew nothing about, even if he had a cruelty they could not hope to match. It was dirty and brutal, Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng batting the Wen Sect leader back and forth, robes growing more bloodied as time went on. Wei Wuxian had disappeared again, but Jiang Cheng had not a speck of concentration to spare to think of his brother.

Not, that is, until he heard the high notes of Chenqing. Jiang Cheng ducked under a swipe of Wen Ruohan’s sword and kicked out, hitting Wen Ruohan in the chest and gaining enough breathing room to check what was happening.

He blinked and almost missed Wen Ruohan’s next swipe, caught instead by Lan Wangji. Over in the corner, Wen Xu was rising with the blank eyes of a fierce corpse. Jiang Cheng swallowed his immediate distaste for the display of demonic cultivation – now was not the time. Instead, he stepped back, trying to draw Wen Ruohan into the path of his former son. Lan Wangji, catching up a breath later, switched to Jiang Cheng’s side of the room.

Wen Ruohan raised his sword into a guard position and turned towards them, deciding which of them to go after. Jiang Cheng could pinpoint the exact moment he saw what was left of Wen Xu. His eyes widened, and horror flittered over his expression before being replaced by hate. “Who did this? How –“

There was no more time. Wen Xu had reached Wen Ruohan, and Wen Ruohan, caught completely off guard, managed only a half-hearted block before his son’s sword stabbed through his stomach. Wen Ruohan fell to his knees, a gurgling rasp escaping his throat. If he was trying to say something, it was lost as Wen Xu’s fierce corpse took another swing and separated his father’s head from his body. What was left of Wen Ruohan toppled over.

The music stopped.

There was a clanging as Wen Xu’s sword fell from nerveless fingers, shortly followed by Wen Xu’s corpse. Now, resting beside the remains of his father, it was nothing more than a common corpse once again.

For a moment, there was no sound but the merrily crackling flames slowly consuming more and more of the room – in fact, if he hadn’t had other matters on his mind, Jiang Cheng would probably have started being worried about the architectural stability of the ceiling – and the noise of someone, or several someones, trying to break down the main entrance.

Weren’t they going to be surprised.

Jiang Cheng’s blood was still up, and he had to take several deep breaths through his nose to keep himself from doing anything unwise – if nothing else, Lan Wangji would probably frown upon corpse desecration. Or maybe not, considering he’d married Wei Wuxian, who had absolutely no standards in that regard.

Then the realization hit of what they’d just accomplished. There was going to be no war, no massacre of Lotus Pier, no more deaths from here on out. The blood rushed to his head, and Jiang Cheng had to lock his knees so they wouldn’t give out.

When Wei Wuxian’s voice came, it almost sounded as if it came from far away. “So, we did it?” He sounded unsure, as if the same wave of relief that had swamped Jiang Cheng had almost felled him too. It helped Jiang Cheng pull himself together – he was not going to look weak in front of his brother and brother-in-law!

Making sure he projected as much disdain as he could in his voice, he set out to reply: “Obviously, unless you think –“

Plonk!

Unappreciative of the rude interruption, Jiang Cheng turned his gaze to the entryway, where a piece of metal was now sticking out of the door. Whoever was trying to break in had found an axe.

Great.

“Should leave”, Lan Wangji opined, his first words since he’d killed Wen Xu – and he must be feeling pretty elated too, Jiang Cheng supposed. “You think?”

Lan Wangji gave him a blank look that was probably the Lan equivalent of eviscerating someone with your eyes.

Wei Wuxian was already on task, crossing the room in purposeful steps that had Jiang Cheng slightly alarmed considering he was running towards the room’s library. Which, by now, was well and truly on fire. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Wei Wuxian had started pulling at a jumble of shelves that had gotten overturned in the fighting and now lay in a heap near the wall. “There was a servants’ entrance here somewhere – A-Zhan’s right, we need to get out of here before they come in!” Said ‘A-Zhan’ was already hurrying to help his husband. Typical.

“We took Wen Ruohan and his sons. We can take whoever’s on the other side of that door!”

“And he recognised us! We can’t risk that again.” As Wei Wuxian spoke, Lan Wangji pulled the last set of shelves free with a mighty heave. Jiang Cheng wanted to argue that he was more than up to the task of killing as many Wen soldiers as necessary, but the heat was almost painful by now and he was acutely aware that they needed to get out of the room sooner rather than later. Quite before he knew it, Jiang Cheng was already running to join the other two men. Wood splintered as the axe bore down again, this time breaking off a significant portion of one of the door’s carved panels. It was obvious it wouldn’t last much longer.

Jiang Cheng arrived at the servants’ entrance almost the exact same moment Lan Wangji managed to wrench it open. Thankfully, there was no one on the other side; it was likely the kind of entrance nobody but the cleaning staff ever used or cared about. Jiang Cheng was about to step through when he noticed Wei Wuxian had turned back to the room.

“What is it now?” Jiang Cheng was growing impatient – were they going to leave, or not? On Wei Wuxian’s other side, Lan Wangji was sporting his typical stoic expression – spoiled only by a streak of ash across his forehead –, but his hand on Wei Wuxian’s elbow said he felt much the same.

“Just a moment, I’m making sure they can’t follow us…” Wei Wuxian pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket, and Jiang Cheng could barely make out some kind of array. “What is that?”

“That,” Wei Wuxian said, positioning the parchment in a way that seemed deliberate, and pulling a small pin out of another pocket, “is the second part of the portable tracking array I told you about.”

“The one you stuck on him? We don’t need to track Wen Ruohan anymore, he’s dead!” Also, right over there, but Jiang Cheng refrained from adding that particular fact for the sake of brevity.

Wei Wuxian nodded, intent on his work. “Yes, but I didn’t get to tell you what happens when it fails.” Before Jiang Cheng had a reply for that, Wei Wuxian jammed the pin he was holding into a nexus point on the array.

Wen Ruohan exploded.

Jiang Cheng found himself propelled backwards through the servants’ door. In front of them, the ceiling of the reception chamber finally gave up its fight and caved in.

That would certainly be enough to keep anyone from following them.

Jiang Cheng rudely shoved off the person who’d landed on top of him – judging by the lack of vociferous complaints, it had to be Lan Wangji. Once he’d managed to get himself up, he looked around. “Wei Wuxian?”

“Yes?” Wei Wuxian’s head shot up from where he’d been in the process of removing a shiny wet… something from his person. Considering the odds, Jiang Cheng didn’t even want to know. Besides, there were more important matters to discuss: “Promise me you’ll never use that tracking array on me!”

And then they hit the ground running.

Much to Jin Ling’s relief, lunch went rather well.

To his surprise, even Xue Yang behaved. Somehow, they’d managed to install him in the yard at the children’s table without the boy fighting it tooth and nail – neither figuratively nor literally, both of which Jin Ling had been concerned about when the idea first came up. He would have been suspicious if he hadn’t been so relieved. Still, the four of them made a point of checking on the boy every fifteen minutes or so. While he was stuffing himself with truly enormous amounts of food given his size, he wasn’t causing any problems, so they agreed to let him be.

This meant that, rather than spending his time sorting out various disasters caused by Xue Yang, Jin Ling got to sit with Zizhen and his new friends and have a pleasant meal talking about trivial matters. Having been treated as the future sect leader by most of his peers from a young age, Jin Ling was unaccustomed to the anonymity.

It was kind of nice, despite the occasional social slip-up.

After lunch, everyone had lingered, turning their gathering into a sort of afternoon party. Jin Ling was almost ready to believe they had managed to handle the entire affair scot-free when a servant arrived at their group and invited them up to the main table. Across the room, Jin Ling could see another servant collecting Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi. Seeing no other choice, Jin Ling followed the servant to the top of the room, where Wen Qing was holding court. Wen Ning was sitting at her side, pushing some sweets around on the plate in front of him and looking very much like he didn’t want to be involved in any discussions.

Jin Ling could relate.

It turned out, meeting Wen Qing wasn’t at all what Jin Ling had imagined.

Not that he’d imagined it much at all, on account of the whole her being dead thing, but from the little jiujiu had said, there’d been a certain shape to their relationship, almost as if he had… fancied her?

Jin Ling had tried to imagine his jiujiu with a woman sometimes – and of course he knew the story about him being blacklisted by the matchmaker –, but it never quite made sense. When he thought about jiujiu, he thought about him belonging to Jin Ling, and that was that. Which was rather selfish, he supposed, but he’d only recently matured enough to notice even that.

While their group made the proper bows and greetings – no elbow in his ribs necessary this time, thanks Zizhen – Jin Ling tried to catch a glimpse of the woman who’d apparently captured his uncle’s interest before being burned alive.

By Jin Ling’s grandfather.

Yeah, better not think of that.

Once the formalities were over, the boys shuffled onto a row of low cushions that had been provided for those in audience with the head table.

Wen Qing, apparently not one for small talk, came straight to the point.

“I hear one of you is looking for relatives in the valley? I would be happy to see what I can do to help.” Her eyes roamed over the four of them, finally coming to rest on Lan Sizhui before any of them had the wherewithal to formulate a reply. “Hmm, I’m thinking it might be you. Am I right?”

Huh, the stories about her being quick to grasp a situation had certainly not been lies.

Sizhui sucked in a breath through his nose before rallying himself and dipping his head. “Yes, you are correct. I would be most grateful for any assistance.”

Eloquence aside, Jin Ling certainly hoped he’d formulated a better cover story since the last time. Wen Qing didn’t seem to him a woman who’d be satisfied with half-truths.

Right now, she nodded at Sizhui as if expecting him to continue.

The famous Lan composure meant that Jin Ling couldn’t observe anything out of the ordinary in Sizhui’s bearing, though he was sure that his friend was not as comfortable as he appeared. After a moment, he replied. “I was adopted at quite a young age. I have recently found out that my birth family is from this area and was wondering if I could meet them.”

So, no better cover story then. That was – worrying.

Hands folded on the table in front of her, Wen Qing’s posture was at least as perfect as Sizhui’s. “From your attire I assume you were raised in the Cloud Recesses?”

Sizhui nodded. “That is correct.”

Jin Ling grit his teeth. While a small part of him was impressed by his friend’s ability to lie by telling the truth, this was going too far. Damn Lan rules! In retrospect, they should also have definitely changed their clothes before coming here, though of course it was too late for that now. Sizhui and Jingyi hadn’t even taken off their stupid forehead ribbons!

Wen Qing pursed her lips as she thought. “Strange. I know most of the goings-on in the valley, and I have never heard of anyone being adopted out that far away, even if you certainly have the looks. How old did you say you are?”

Jin Ling exchanged a worried glance with Jingyi, sitting on the other side of Sizhui. This was starting to feel almost like an interrogation rather than a friendly conversation. At least, even if Wen Qing suspected anything untoward, whatever it was, it was unlikely to come anywhere close to the truth.

Which would do them a fat lot of good if they ended up getting locked up. Maybe Jin Ling could cause a commotion by ‘accidentally’ knocking over a few glasses? Where was Xue Yang when you needed him!

Sizhui’s smile grew a bit strained. “I’m not sure –” he began, and Jin Ling was about ready to tear out his hair at his friend’s inability to lie – he clearly wasn’t even trying anymore! – when the sound of a galloping horse interrupted the background chatter of the other guests, followed by a commotion at the front of the hall.

Jin Ling craned his neck around to see a man hurrying through the rows of tables. Sweat stained his loose shirt under his soldier’s vest and his boots were sprinkled with dirt. Altogether, he looked like he’d spent at least the last hour riding hard. For some reason, long streaks of ash ran down his forearms.

Wen Qing’s attention slipped off the boys in front of her and found the messenger, who, observing he’d been noticed, gave a bow that was perfunctory at best. Then, in a social lapse that would have been unlikely to go unnoticed except in times of emergency, he looked Wen Qing straight in the eye, still breathing hard.

“Wen-guniang, you must come at once – Nightless City is burning.”

Wen Qing left immediately, and Jin Ling would have been relieved at the abrupt end of their interview if not for the niggling sensation in his stomach that his jiujius and Hanguang-Jun had something to do with whatever was happening in Nightless City.

He hoped jiujiu was alright.

The other guests, depending on their temperament either shocked or titillated by the news, went their separate ways shortly after. Soon, only a couple of particularly gossipy individuals stayed behind, talking amongst each other after their attempts to pry the messenger for news had failed. Unwilling to become the next centre of their attention, the Juniors said their goodbyes and retired back to their room.

As soon as the door closed, Jin Ling rounded on the others. “You know what this means, right? There’s no way this is a coincidence. We have to leave!”

Sizhui opened his mouth as if to answer, then closed it again. He snorted unhappily. It was the least elegant thing Jin Ling had ever seen him do, though this was probably the wrong time to point that out.

Worrying at the hem of his robes, Jingyi turned to him. “I’m sorry, but I think he’s right. If we’re already suspicious, and we’re still here when Wen Qing comes back…”

Zizhen piped up. “Also, if we’re not at the Cloud Recesses before Wei-qianbei, Hanguang-Jun and Sandu Shengshu arrive there, we’re going to be in trouble!”

The other boys looked at him.

He shrugged, uncomfortable with the attention. “What, you know it’s true!

Looking as if he had to force himself to do it, Sizhui nodded. “I agree. We should leave.”

As if on cue, Xue Yang, who’d sunken down against the wall as soon as they’d entered, looked up. Maybe it was nothing more than Jin Ling’s imagination, but his skin seemed to look a bit green. “I think I’m gonna be sick!”, he whined pitifully, clutching his belly.

Just what they needed.

Jin Ling took a moment to remind himself that committing homicide would not solve any of their problems, then helped the others get on with the business of packing and dealing with a little boy who’d definitely had too much of the meat. And the noodles. And the fruit jelly.

And, most definitely, the sweets.

Not an hour later and they were gone, on their way back to the Cloud Recesses. The only thing left behind were some sheaves of parchment, swept from a desk in the corner to the floor and slipped through the cracks between the floorboards, unnoticed in the haste.

Yet another day, and yet again Jiang Cheng found himself trudging around the Gusu hinterlands with Jin Zixuan. They’d now been running around these mountains for several days straight, and he was growing heartily sick of it. The constant mist at all times of day meant that it was constantly damp, and not the comfortable kind of damp rising from large lakes like he was used to from home, no – the cold, clammy kind of damp a quick dip in the cold springs would only make worse. And while he was on the topic, he missed proper lakes! Then, of course, his irritating brother was galivanting around with Lan Wangji – and he still wasn’t quite sure how that had happened – doing who-knew-what; Jiang Cheng certainly didn’t want to know, thank you very much. Probably brining shame on the family somehow. Worse, missing all those classes meant he was probably falling behind in his studies, increasing the risk that he himself would bring shame on the family.

And worse still, by virtue of being forced to tolerate each other’s company for hours every day, he and the peacock had, slowly but inevitably and definitely against Jiang Cheng’s will, become something like friends.

Well, ‘friends’ was probably too strong a word. It was more that Jiang Cheng didn’t feel the immediate need to throttle him every time he opened his mouth, which paradoxically made him so annoyed he wanted to throttle someone else. Anyone else.

Just not the peacock anymore.

This morning, they’d passed the time between checking the undergrowth for intruders (there weren’t any) and listening for imposters’ words on the wind (nope, none) by comparing notes on the last Discussion Conference they’d attended at the behest of their fathers. It had been, dare he say, almost pleasant?

Jiang Cheng shuddered.

Probably the damp had finally gotten to his brain, or the prospect of the imposters continuing their evil deeds elsewhere had robbed him of his senses. He’d actually thought some of the peacock’s points made sense!

That was it. Tomorrow, he’d overrule Wei Wuxian and demand they return to class. By now, the intruders had probably left the region anyway; it had been five days, and they’d seen neither hide nor hair of any of them. Honestly, Jiang Cheng was surprised nobody had come to demand they participate in lessons again. He wasn’t sure whether the adults were still worried about the intruders, whether Zewu-Jun had been positively overzealous in shooing everyone else away to give his precious baby brother time to bond with his newfound “friends”, or whether they’d simply been summarily forgotten.

That last was a rather depressing prospect.

Of course, there was always the outside chance that Lan Qiren had noticed the heavenly peace presumably pervading the classroom and the library now that Wei Wuxian wasn’t constantly making a nuisance of himself – or serving punishment for making a nuisance of himself – and was not eager to change that.

Jiang Cheng pursed his lips. Maybe that wasn’t as much of an outside chance as he’d first thought.

He was brought out of his musings when the peacock tapped his shoulder. His mood soured further when he noticed he didn’t, in fact, feel the desire to violently shoulder the peacock away as quickly as possible. “What?”

“We’re coming up on the spot we’re supposed to meet your brother and Lan Wangji.”

Oh. Jiang Cheng hadn’t even noticed, otherwise occupied as he was. There, a bit ahead on their trail, was the slightly dilapidated hut Lan Wangji had described this morning. Well, Wei Wuxian had described it – his brother was getting fairly fluent in Lang Wangji’s minimalist mode of communication. No wonder, considering the amount of time they spent together. Balling his fist in his robes, Jiang Cheng tried to suppress his annoyance. Wei Wuxian was his brother first! And anyway, the peacock was waiting for an answer. “Yeah, so what?”

Jin Zixuan’s nose scrunched up, the way Jiang Cheng had always thought meant he was feeling particularly arrogant but really meant he’d thought of a new argument in their discussion, or was tired though unwilling to admit it, or, on one memorable occasion, that he’d accidentally sat down in a puddle.

(He hadn’t wanted to admit that either, but it had been hard to hide.)

Yeah, they’d definitely been spending too much time together.

This time, it apparently meant he was mildly annoyed. “I don’t know. Just… keep an eye out. Something feels off.”

Jiang Cheng immediately went on alert. (That was a thing now – he listened to Jin Zixuan’s opinion. If it wouldn’t have caused a host of questions from the peacock, he’d have buried his head in his hands in shame.)

Per unspoken agreement, they moved to the side of the path into the shadows of the trees, where their approach wouldn’t be quite so obvious for anyone casually glancing down the mountain from the cabin, and continued their ascent much more stealthily. They were almost by the cabin when he saw it – the outline of an abandoned fireplace out front, fire put out and half buried in the soil to lessen the danger of any glimmering ashes escaping. Fairly recent, too. He stopped and tapped Jin Zixuan’s elbow to draw his attention.

Jin Zixuan’s nose did its thing again. “Wasn’t this place supposed to be abandoned?”, he whispered.

Jiang Cheng shrugged. “Let’s keep going.”

They crept on even more slowly; the closer they came to the cabin, the more signs they saw that somebody had been using the cabin recently. Branches, broken higher up where no animal would reach them. Vague outlines of footsteps, washed out by the recent rains but too many for the blurry shapes to be a coincidence.

Someone had definitely been here. And not one person alone but a whole group.

Jiang Cheng was about to give in to the elation threatening to break forth at the thought of finally having found something when there was a low sound from the cabin. His heart beat faster as he shared a look with Jin Zixuan – that definitely hadn’t sounded like an animal!

He and Jin Zixuan crept up to the hut as quietly as they could, positioning themselves to the right and left of the open doorway, mindful of the danger of someone suddenly exiting the cabin. Jiang Cheng felt a grin coming on – take that, Wei Wuxian! You may be running around doing – whatever – with Lan Wangji, but here he was, Jiang Cheng, catching the imposters!

Feeling magnanimous, he decided that he might not even mind sharing the praise of that with Jin Zixuan.

He signed Jin Zixuan to stay on lookout, then carefully moved to look into the doorway.

The first thing he saw was a flash of white fabric in the corner. Up against the wall, a figure was pressed close to another figure, their faces touching, the sound repeating, now their faces parted, and it was…

Jiang Cheng pivoted back out of the doorway, eyes wide. As he felt his back press flat against the rough-hewn outer boards of the cabin, he hoped vaguely that it was possible to bleach one’s brain, for surely nothing else could ever erase this memory.

After what felt like an eternity lost in horror, he became aware of Jin Zixuan signalling him. Before Jiang Cheng could do anything to spare him a lifetime of pain, Jin Zixuan lost patience and took a look for himself.

Much like Jiang Cheng, he pivoted back out almost immediately. Unlike Jiang Cheng, he didn’t look horrified. He looked – annoyed.

Jiang Cheng could tell because of the nose scrunch.

“I would have thought Lan Wangji of all people would be more discreet”, Jin Zixuan remarked, keeping his voice quiet.

“What?”, he whispered back, then wondered why he bothered – the two inside clearly were too busy to care.

Jin Zixuan threw him an exasperated look before answering, which, as far as Jiang Cheng was concerned, was rather unfair. And aggravating, coming from the peacock as it was.

He was sure he would have had a stronger reaction if he hadn’t presently been going through a personal crisis.

“Come on, it was obvious the two of them were making out somewhere.”

“Well, that doesn’t mean I wanted to see it!”

Quiet descended on the cabin.

A flock of birds alighted from a tree. The frogs in a nearby pond stopped croaking. Even the insects hid.

Jiang Cheng supposed he might have been a bit – loud.

It took another moment for Jiang Cheng to notice that the sounds from inside the cabin had stopped too.

Then, a voice. “A-Cheng, are you alright?”

That did it.

“No, Wei Wuxian, I am not alright! I can’t believe you, you’d –“, words failed him, so he simply steamrolled ahead, “in public!”

It was at this point that Wei Wuxian exited the cabin, closely followed by Lan Wangji. Thankfully, neither had their hands on the other person.

Jiang Cheng counted that as a win, especially since he would have probably had to scream otherwise.

Wei Wuxian didn’t even look the slightest bit ashamed. “You know, you could have just knocked!”

Forget it, screaming was back on the table.

Somehow, Jiang Cheng managed not to bodily hurl himself at his brother. “We thought we were about to catch the imposters.”

Beyond Wei Wuxian’s shoulder, he could see Jin Zixuan watching their conversation with wide eyes.

Great, his day was getting worse and worse. Why again had he bothered getting out of bed that morning?

Wei Wuxian scratched his chin with the nonchalance of the oblivious. “Why?”

“Why? Because your new …”, Jiang Cheng spluttered, almost tripping over the next word, “… new boyfriend over there said nobody ever comes to this cabin, and a rather large group of somebodies has rather obviously recently been here!” He waved his arm, encompassing the half-hidden firepit and the footprints, the motion scaring off the last remaining birds in the surround bushes. Now that he could see into the cabin freely, it was obvious someone had been sleeping there, the dirt disturbed in very telling patterns.

Wei Wuxian followed his motions. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh!” Jiang Cheng repeated, too worked up to care about the indignity of it. “Didn’t you notice?”

“Umm..” Wei Wuxian reached back, taking Lan Wangji’s hand into his own. “I was kind of preoccupied?”

Something in Jiang Cheng shattered.

Investigation report, filed later that week in the Lan archives:

Investigation report number: #123.43.557

Reported by: Caiyi Town resident Duan Bojing

Incident reported: Mysterious scream heard in forest by several Caiyi Town residents. Village dogs v. distressed.

Incident response: Team #6 sent to investigate. Inconclusive results. Exact origins of phenomenon remain unknown.

Future recommendation: Keep eye on situation, esp. considering recent trouble with Lan Wangji & Jin and Jiang disciples. No further action necessary at present.