Chapter Text
Wei Ying curled up in the corner of his bed, too tired to distract himself from the pain radiating down his back and through his limbs. Whomever made Zidian, certainly knew how to create a nasty weapon. Sure, it’s original purpose was to remove a soul from a possessed person but Madame Yu honed its lightening into a merciless tool of torture.
The light knock on the door meant that his shijie had come to visit. Aching for any sign of affection, he managed to find his voice over the pain. “Come in.”
The door slid to the side, and Yanli’s smile greeted him. He ignored the pity in her eyes, focusing on the bowl in her hands instead.
“Ah, Shijie, is that for me?” he asked with a whine and small bounce.
Her smile reached her eyes, replacing the pity. “Of course. I can’t let my XianXian go hungry.” She patted his head after giving him the lotus and rib soup.
“Your XianXian is famished.” The wounds on his back sent stabbing pain through him as he moved his arm to take the spoon. “Shijie,” he whimpered with a pouting lip, “XianXian is too young to feed himself. Won’t you feed me?”
Her laugh filled the room like the tinkling bells. “How old is my a-Xian that he can’t feed himself?”
“A-Xian is three,” he replied with innocent eyes.
His shijie picked up the spoon, and he sighed inside at not having to force his wounds to feed himself. She was kind, one of the kindest people he knew.
“A-Xian will have to grow up some day.” She bopped him lightly on the nose. “At least, enough to not get in so much trouble.”
“Aiya, Shijie, it was too hot to keep training. Besides, Jiang Cheng already scolded me. A-Xian needs his shijie to comfort him.”
Yanli patted his head after giving him the last spoonful of soup. “You know he doesn’t mean it. Under all that anger is a loving soul, and you are his brother. He loves you too. Perhaps, A-Xian is younger than three; one is more likely.” She bopped his nose again before getting up to leave. “Don’t take his anger to heart, or mother’s. XianXian is loved.”
A week later, Wei Ying found himself kneeling in the ancestral hall, his back and knees aching from being there for four hours. Jiang Cheng sat beside him, eating lotus seeds.
“If your mother comes in, she will be angry,” Wei Ying said, ignoring the rumbling of his stomach.
“She’s gone on a night hunt. Besides, I can always say they’re yours.” He smirked and tossed another seed in his mouth.
“If you’re gonna be an ass about it, you could at least share.” He grabbed a few of the treats from Jiang Cheng’s bowl before his shidi could stop him.
“Hey! It’s not my fault you’re stuck in here. Mother said no supper, and I ate your share of the ribs in Jiejie’s soup.” His smirk turned into the scowl that often adorned his young face.
“Not your fault?” Wei Ying glared at him in disbelief. “I wasn’t the one who decided to let all the old man’s goats free. I told you he was coming. I told you he could see us. Why didn’t you listen?”
Jiang Cheng snorted. “It’s your job to listen to me; not my job to listen to you.”
“I’m your older brother and head disciple. You’re supposed to listen to me.”
“I’m sect heir. Sect heir trumps older martial brother and head disciple. When I’m sect leader, you’ll have to listen to me no matter what, so get used to it.”
Wei Ying’s stomach grumbled loudly, and Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes.
“Here.” He pushed the bowl into Wei Ying’s hands.
Three tiny seeds sat in the bottom of the dish. “Aiya! Jiang Cheng, you ate them all!” He went to attack the sect heir but he had already ran out the door.
Sighing, Wei Ying slumped where he knelt and ate the few seeds. Shijie would bring him soup later; she always did. Hopefully, she would make more ribs to go with it. He groaned and rubbed his knees. At this rate, he would have thick calluses on his knees before his fifteenth birthday.
Sometimes, he wondered if it was all worth it. They said he owed them his life. Jiang Fengmian had taken him from the streets and given him shelter. He owed them for every grain of rice he ate, every piece of clothing he wore, and every bit of training he got. He owed them for every rumour about his parentage, every fight between Jiang Fengmian and Madame Yu, and every time he did better than Jiang Cheng.
Uncle Jiang and Shijie said he was family. Jiang Cheng refers to him as his martial older brother and is his friend sometimes and bitter superior other times. And Madame Yu? Well, she has never hidden her distain for him, and reminds him constantly that he is a servant, not family.
Where does that leave him?
He had been here for four years. The first year, he expected to get thrown out at any moment. Slowly, he began to trust enough to stop hiding food and be more bold. He discovered that if he laughed and joked around, he could hide how much the nasty comments about his parents and his own person hurt.
They didn’t need to see his wounds. They didn’t need to see his weaknesses and use them against him. It was fine as long as Jiang Fengmian gave him bits of attention and encouragement, Shijie gave him pats on the head and good food, and Jiang Cheng messed around with him on his adventures.
Madame Yu didn’t count. After all, she would never approve of him or call him nephew in any lifetime. She wore her hatred for him like a jewel hanging around her neck.
He stretched his back, trying to loosen the muscles cramping. The movement irritated the barely healed whip marks.
Was it really worth it?
If he left Lotus Pier, Jiang Fengmian and Madame Yu wouldn’t have arguments over him anymore. Maybe they would build a better relationship without him around to make Madame Yu doubt the sect leader’s fidelity. Maybe Sect Leader Jiang would spend more time with Jiang Wanyin – encourage him and show his love and support better. Maybe Jiang Yanli would finally have the peaceful, loving family she wanted.
But how could he leave? He owed them so much, more than he could ever pay.
Heart heavy, he stretched out on the floor and stared up at the dark beams holding up the roof. Lotus Pier was the first home he had ever known. He loved the lakes and the beauty of the place. The people of the town treated him well, they even cared about him in some ways. In Yiling, most people treated him like a disease, a nuisance, trash. He learned to smile no matter what in the hopes of getting crumbs, in hopes of not being beaten or chased by dogs. People liked it when he smiled. They liked it when he acted like the fool to make them laugh. He was safer when he smiled and laughed at their spiteful or unkind comments.
He pretended and held onto his mask until he no longer knew who he was. Did he really want to spend the rest of his life like this? Acting arrogant allowed him moments of control over his own story and the ability to challenge those around him. He could hide his emotions behind haughty statements, vent his hurt through jokes and conceit.
Then again, he was good at what he did. He had built a strong core despite starting late and failing at meditation most of the time. Hunting for pheasants seemed a better way to meditate. Why did everyone have to sit still to cultivate? He burned with energy late into the night. Sometimes, the only thing he could do was run through the fields at night or practice sword movements until he couldn’t stand anymore. Those nights were sweet when the air was warm and the stars were his only companions.
During those times, he imagined his parents were with him, encouraging him, loving him. He imagined a life on the road, wandering from town to town, helping anyone who needed it. After, they would trade stories over simple meals before settling down for the night. He didn’t need a fancy room, any floor or barn would do.
Maybe someday he would have a little cabin he could call his own, a place he could return to when road-weary. Of course, there would be a garden to tend and maybe even a few chickens. He would have good neighbours, who wouldn’t mind watching over his home while he was on the road. In return, he could help them with chores or hunting for game.
Maybe someday he would have a cultivation partner, someone to love and be loved by in return. They could hunt together, live together, and even have a family together. He didn’t care if they were his own children or ones he rescued from the streets. If he brought them into his house, he would love them no matter what.
His daydream shattered into splinters at the sound of a sharp voice outside. Quickly, he sat up straight and waited. She strode in, her energy pushing against his back as she came up behind him. He braced himself.
“You! Get to your room and don’t come out until morning. I don’t want to see your face for the rest of the day.” Madame Yu smacked him on the back of his head. “And don’t expect Yanli to bring you anything tonight. I’ve sent her to Meishan to visit her grandmother.
Wei Ying rose to his feet and hurried from the building, keeping his eyes on the ground. She would not like it if he met her gaze. After he closed the door to his room, he sat on the bed. His stomach ached with hunger, but it was a feeling he was used to. It was something he could deal with.
Maybe Jiang Cheng would bring him something. Sometimes he did when his jealousy wasn’t pushing him away. Sometimes, he even felt like a brother when he tried to care. After all, Shijie insisted he hid his affection and worry behind anger. Occasionally, Wei Ying thought that wasn’t good enough but who was he to complain? Take what you get and smile; that is what he learned on the streets.
He pulled a sheet of paper from his desk and grinned at the sigils he had written there. Talismans were so much fun to explore, and he was getting really good at them. A few of his latest inventions had worked rather well. Maybe he could sell them and earn enough to pay for his freedom. If he left now, the weight of his debt would drag at him through his whole life.
With a plan forming in his head, he sat at his desk and began to write.
Early the next morning, he carefully compiled his papers into a proper order, tidied himself like a proper disciple, and went to his sect leader’s study.
“Sect Leader Jiang?” he called as he stood in the doorway. “This disciple requests an audience with his sect leader.” Papers in hand, he bowed and waited.
His marital uncle smiled at him, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “A-Xian, so formal. Come in, come in. What can I do for you so early this morning?”
Wei Ying steeled his conviction with a deep breath and a straight back. He strode forward, determined to achieve his goal.
“Sect Leader, I – Wei Ying, courtesy Wei Wuxian – humbly petition you to officially release me from my position as a disciple of the YunmengJiang sect. In return for the debts I have incurred from the generosity of YunmengJiang’s shelter, food, care, and education, I present to you these talismans I have created myself.” He placed the first collection in front of his martial uncle.
“In return for sheltering this lowly one, I offer a talisman of protection against fire damage. As you can see, I have included a full report on the function of each sigil and instructions on its use.”
“A-Xian,” Jiang Fengmian started, his smile turning to a frown.
“In return for feeding this lowly one, I present this talisman to protect stored rice and other grains from vermin.”
The Sect Leader ran a hand over his face. “Wei Ying…”
“In return for the care your house has provided me in clothing me and other physical gifts you have given this lowly one, including Subian, I offer this talisman which will add a stronger level of protection to the treasure room and library of Lotus Pier.”
“Stop, please…”
Wei Ying ignored him. He couldn’t stop now or he would not be able to finish. “Finally, in return for the education this lowly one has received, including the blessing of my golden core, I offer this talisman other of protection. When embroidered in the robes of YunmengJiang’s disciples, it will protect them from low level spirits and minor wounds.”
Once his hands were empty, he bowed low, kowtowing before Jiang Fengmian. “This lowly servant hopes these talismans, created by this one’s own hands, are sufficient to release him from any debts owed to YunmengJiang. All rights of ownership and sale to each are freely given for the enhancement of YunmengJiang’s wealth and prosperity.”
With that, he waited, kneeling with his head pressed to the floor. His heart pounded as he worked to keep his breath steady. If this failed, he didn’t have anything else to offer. He wanted it to be a clean break, not something that would follow him wherever he went, branding him as a traitor to his martial sect.
“A-Xian, why are you doing this?” Jiang Fengmian asked, his voice rough with emotion. “Aren’t you happy here?”
He rose and swallowed the lump in his throat. “I am not unhappy, but I am not happy. You have given me much. You saved my life and I am grateful but I do not belong here. As much as you and I would like this to be my home, it is not. And I can’t stay any longer.”
The words hung in the air for several minutes while they faced each other. His martial uncle’s face flushed, flitting from sorrow to anger and back.
“But you are family, a-Xian. Yanli loves you. A-Cheng loves you.” His jaw tightened as he patted his chest. “I love you. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
Wei Ying pushed down the guilt gnawing at his resolve. “It is because I love you that I must leave. I can no longer deal with the pain and tension my presence in your home has brought to your family. While you and your children may hurt a little after I leave, I firmly believe the peace my absence will bring will outweigh and heal that pain.
The man slumped in his chair. “You are still so young. I promised your parents I would care for you. You are one of my own, my nephew if not in blood then affection. Your father was my martial brother, and your mother was my dear friend. I cannot turn their son away.”
“For my part, I believe you have fulfilled your promise to my parents. You saved me from the streets and taught me the skills to take care of myself. You owe them and me nothing.” Wei Ying took a deep breath and kept going. “I believe you care for me but I also believe I am more of a ghost of my parents than a nephew.” He paused, his emotions catching in his throat. “And because of that, I do not believe my presence is good for either of us anymore.”
He stepped forward, meeting the man’s gaze. “I would like to leave on good terms but I am willing to go with or without your permission. It is the least I can do for YunmengJiang.”
“At least wait until Yanli comes back,” Jiang Fengmian said, his hope plain on his face.
Wei Ying did not turn his gaze. “I am resolved to go today.”
“A-Xian.” He let his hand fall against his desk, his chest heaving with tension. “A-X… I…” He closed his eyes for a second before opening them with an expression of disappointment and resignation. “All right. I will write up a formal release right now and take your name from our records. By the time you have collected your things, I will have it ready for you to sign.”
“I would like a copy of my own, if I may, Sect Leader Jiang,” Wei Ying said as he stood, his hands clenched to hide their shaking.
His marital uncle’s eyes flashed with anger at the implication of lack of trust. “Fine.” The word came out as more of a growl. “Fine.” He repeated more softly, retreating back from any quarrel.
Wei Ying had counted on the man’s fear of conflict to gain him his freedom. After a quick bow, he rushed away to grab his few belongings before he could run into Jiang Cheng or Madame Yu. Neither of them would expect him to be up this early, since he usually slept in until almost noon. Still, he wanted to avoid them as much as possible. He had no strength of will left to deal with an angry tirade from either of them.
Jiang Cheng would live; he would probably curse his name forever but he would live. He would even be able to get a dog or two if he wanted. Madame Yu would probably celebrate before screaming about his audacity to dare leave after all their generosity toward him. They would have to find someone else to target their anger toward.
His shidis and shimis would probably miss him for a while too. He would miss them. He would miss the lakes and the beauty of Lotus Pier; plus, the people in the town. Still, he would be free. He could go where he wanted and make his own way in the world, debt free.
The thought made him giggle. It would be hard but so far life was hard, and he was ready to carve out his own little corner.
He rushed back to Sect Leader Jiang’s office, hoping the man had not changed his mind. Relief coursed through him as his martial uncle handed him two copies of his release to sign. He read them over quickly, checking to make certain his talismans were accepted as payment for any debts incurred before signing.
Sect Leader Jiang held out a pouch as he handed the sect's copy back. “Here. This is payment for your service as head disciple.” He paused before letting it go. “If you need anything or change your mind, you are always welcome here, a-Xian. You will always be my nephew no matter what.”
The weight of the pouch sat heavy in Wei Ying’s hand. He wanted to refuse the funds but had little money of his own.
“It is freely given; no debt incurred. It is what I would pay any head disciple, even one as young as you.”
Wei Ying bowed, clutching the pouch and his release form in his hand. “Thank you, Uncle Jiang. This former disciple appreciates all you have done for me.”
Without another word, he strode from the room and left Lotus Pier. Whatever happened to YunmengJiang now, was no longer his responsibility. His actions, both good and bad, would no longer reflect on them.
He grinned brightly as he made his way through the market place, buying some food along the way. By the time he hit the open road, he laughed out loud, revelling in his freedom.