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Chapter Text

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The dripping pierced through the darkness enveloping Cangse Sanren, and she twitched at each drop of cold water splashing onto the side of her face in a slow, uneven interval. She groaned as the fog of unconsciousness began to recede. At first, all she was aware of was the dripping and the pain. Everything hurt, but her head was pounding. Each drop of water felt like a slap in the face, and her limbs felt too heavy to move. The ground was hard beneath her, her cheek pressing into cold stone.

Then she noticed the smell - the sharp, sulphury tang of resentful energy thick in the air. She nearly gagged, it was so strong, but the odor brought back sharp memories - the giant spider demon harassing the people of Yiling; the nighthunt; the chase. The cave. Realizing too late the crafty demon had led her and Wei Changze into a trap.

Wei Changze. Where was he?!

Her eyes blinked open, but she found only more blackness. Her heart hammered as she struggled to sit up, feeling like the ground was pulling at her. Impatiently she brushed the cold water from her temple and cheek, surprised to find she seemed covered in a thin layer of slime. Gross. What was this? Where was her husband? How long had she been unconscious? Little Wei Ying was waiting for them at the inn in Yiling. He would be worried if he woke up and they weren't back yet.

A quiet cough broke through her panicked thoughts. "A-Se? Is that you?" The voice was scratchy with disuse, but relief flooded her at its familiarity.

"Changze." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Are you ok? Are you hurt? I can't see anything."

She heard some shuffling, and then a light talisman flared to life. As she blinked the dots from her eyes, her husband's kind, worried face appeared; it looked strange and too sharp in the flickering yellow light. "I'm fine, I think."

"Me too, except for this killer headache. And whatever this is." She held up a hand dripping with the rancid slime, her face dripping with disgust.

Wei Changze gave her a wry smile. "Turns out spider demons have webs. Now we know.”

Her stomach turned at how close a call it had been, as well as at the awful smell permeating the air. “We've been exposed to high concentrations of resentful energy for too long. We need to get out of this cave."

"How long do you think we've been unconscious?"

"No idea. What happened to the spider demon?"

He shook his head. "The last thing I remember is thinking we were goners, when I realized it had lured us in here on purpose."

"Well, since it hasn't killed us already, we should get out of here before it comes back. I was ahead of you when we ran into the cave. So the entrance is probably back that way?"

Wei Changze nodded, and Cangse Sanren found her sheath and naked sword beside her and grabbed them as she stood. They were covered in the same reeking substance as the rest of her; she wiped her blade off on her soiled robes as best she could. She gripped her sword tightly in her hand; she wasn't putting it away until she was good and sure they were away from that demon. It had no business being as powerful and cunning as it was.

"Let's get out of here, then." They needed to hurry to get back to town before day fully broke and Wei Ying had time to miss them.

They started their wary walk through the dark, the flickering light talisman casting long, reaching shadows up the cave walls. All Cangse Sanren’s nerves felt pulled tight, like a bowstring about to release. All her senses were ready for a fight. Waiting. Watching.

The resentful energy in the cave seemed restless in a way Cangse Sanren had never seen before. It kept moving, pooling in areas, and then spreading out again. It was not usually so visible, whisps of black swirling through the cave. It seemed agitated, like something had wound it up. What could it be responding to?

Was the spider demon still nearby, manipulating the energy into its web?

Wei Changze’s voice broke into her thoughts. "It was too big a risk, chasing prey so near the Burial Mounds on our own."

Cangse Sanren didn't respond. She was inclined to agree, now, but her husband would know he was right without her having to admit it.

They walked a ways in silence before she heard Wei Changze say, "Hm."  A frown pulled at his eyebrows as he looked into his qiankun pouch.

"Hm?" Cangse Sanren responded, not really paying attention. It had been a terrible night. All she could think about was how she wanted her son back in her arms as fast as possible, even as she searched for signs of demonic life in every flickering shadow.

"You know I always carry extra food?”

"Yeah."

"I must have forgotten to repack it for this trip. What’s left in here is all moldy and dried up.”

"So we’ll have to get food in town. Can’t you wait until we find Wei Ying before you start thinking about breakfast?" She knew the irritation in her tone was unfair, but she was tired, and her head still ached, and a vague feeling of misgiving still churned in her gut.

"I was looking for something for you, to eat while we walked. Somehow I hadn't noticed how thin you've been getting. You need to eat more, love."

She looked over at him now, and felt her whole face soften with fondness. This man. "What about you? One would think we'd been in the Burial Mounds so long you started to adopt the look of a skeleton,” she joked. “Positively gaunt, you've gotten."

He gave her a wan smile. "Maybe it's time for a vacation. We've hardly stopped moving in months. Maybe Fengmian would let us rest up for a while at Lotus Pier. The lotus lakes are beautiful this time of year."

She arched an eyebrow at him as they wound their way through the huge, chilly cave. "Think he's forgiven you yet?"

"For what?"

"Darling, you're supposed to be the socially sensitive one. How are the two of us going to manage if you can't even navigate your relationship with your best friend?"

"He was never really mad at me."

"Oh really,” said Cangse Sanren, her tone dry and doubtful. “He wasn't upset at all that you promised to be by his side forever, supporting him in his role as Sect Leader, and then scarcely a year after he assumed leadership, you ran off with some woman to become a rogue cultivator, seceding from the sect?"

"You were hardly ‘some woman’. You’d been friends with us both for years.”

“Sure. But surely you also knew how he felt about you.”

“Well. Under the circumstances, it would have been rather awkward to ask him to host our wedding, don’t you think? Anyway, I don't think he bears a grudge."

"So why haven't we been back to Lotus Pier since?"

"Oh look, you feel that breeze? We must be getting close to the entrance.”

Cangse Sanren rolled her eyes at his obvious deflection, but then cocked her head, listening. “What’s that noise?”

“Sounds like rain.”

“No, not the rain. There was something else.”

They came around a bend in the cave just as the light talisman flickered out, and the entrance appeared before them. Against the dark veil of the night, cold strands of rain quivered in the air.  Thunder crashed, and periodic flashes of lightning lit up the strange, ashy trees that filled the foothills around the Yiling Burial Mounds.

Then she heard it again, louder this time. An unexpected sound, out of place in these wild, dismal hills. The sharp, shrill sound of a flute ripped through the night sky and across the curtains of rain with the force of an arrow. It was quickly followed by vestiges of the sound eerily echoing through the entire valley.

Then a bit softer, as if the player were still far off, came a bizarre, haunting tune that seemed to have no rhythm or melody but quivered in the air with strange power.

They looked at each other, and Cangse Sanren saw her own wary confusion reflected on her husband’s face. Swords drawn, they stepped out together into the night.

Hardly able to see through the pouring rain, they walked in the direction of the flute. The sour odor of resentful energy was still thick in the air, despite the rain. Cangse Sanren heard other unsettling noises in the forest around them: the cracking of branches, low moans, and shuffling movements. They were far from alone out here. Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze walked shoulder-to-shoulder, watching each other’s backs. They had night-hunted so often together, they moved seamlessly as a single unit. Together, they could take on anything.

They moved through the trees and dark underbrush, quickly soaked to the skin with the rain. Cangse Sanren was thankful; wet was a vast improvement over the rancid slime. The rain was cold, plastering their long hair and robes to their skin, but their golden cores would keep them warm enough.

As they drew closer to the sound of the flute, a dozen or so horses appeared out of the rain, each of them carrying two or three people. The night seemed somehow denser around these unexpected strangers.

One of the figures on horseback noticed them, and shouted, “Wei-gongzi!”

Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze exchanged a look of surprise, then strained to see through the rain. Who would know her husband? Cangse Sanren herself was sometimes recognized, but it was rare for anyone outside of Yunmeng to know Wei Changze.

“Hello, friend! I can’t see clearly; who’s there?” Wei Changze shouted back.

Another man – this one holding a flute to his lips - turned towards them, revealing glowing red eyes, long, dark hair whipping around him, and a small child tucked under his arm. He lowered the flute and stared at them.

Cangse Sanren instinctively brought her sword up defensively.

The rain fell heavier and heavier. Cold drops of water trickled incessantly down Cangse Sanren’s face, but she hardly noticed. Her attention was solely focused on the dark figure before her.

“What do you want?” The man’s cold voice sent an unwelcome shiver down Cangse Sanren’s spine. He carried himself with authority, as if he were used to being obeyed. Used to being feared.

Cangse Sanren found herself narrowing her eyes. The pampered young master of a major sect, no doubt. She withheld the urge to scoff.

“We’re cultivators,” Wei Changze answered, infusing his tone with much more friendliness than Cangse Sanren would be able to muster now. “We were chasing a giant spider demon, but it got away. We’re trying to find our way back to town.”

The dark figure pointed with his flute. “There’s the road. Be on your way and don’t come back.” His tone made clear the conversation was over, a threat threaded between the words.

But Cangse Sanren did not take well to being threatened. The more he tried to stare her down, the more she felt her heels dig in. Did this man, whoever he was, think he could cow Cangse Sanren into submission? If he did, he had another thing coming.

She spoke for the first time, projecting her voice through the noise of the storm. “Who are you? Why are you leading all these people into the Burial Mounds? Only demons can survive there.”

The man with red eyes looked down at them from atop his horse, and a cold, grim smile stretched his lips, showing teeth. “Exactly.”

Cangse Sanren was not often afraid. She had been afraid as a child on the street, before she was found by Baoshan Sanren. She was afraid when the spider demon had cornered them in the cave, and she thought she would never see her baby boy again. She wondered vaguely if she should be afraid now.

But mostly she was just irritated.

She took a breath to yell back at him, but then lightning flashed, suddenly illuminating the world around them, and she noticed several things in quick succession. The first was that most of the people on horseback were dirty and covered in blood and bruises, some of them clearly elderly. The second was that they wore torn robes of sun and flames, except the flutist, who wore black. The third was that as the lightning lit up all of their faces, the flutist’s cruel expression suddenly dropped, and his eyes went wide.

When he didn’t look so vicious, he was quite handsome, Cangse Sanren thought. Maybe even vaguely familiar, somehow.

The flutist rubbed at the rain in his eyes with the back of the hand clutching the flute, and stared at them again, a strange expression on his face Cangse Sanren couldn’t read in the dark.

“Who are you?” he demanded. “What sect are you from?”

“What do you mean?” Wei Changze replied. “Your friend called me by name.”

The flutist looked up sharply at the others on horseback, as if searching his companions for a traitor in their midst.

Before anyone could reply, a bright light appeared on the horizon. In a moment, it was distinguishable as a whole flock of yellow sword glares. They were coming in fast.

“You expecting company?” Cangse Sanren asked.

“Jin,” growled the flutist, seemingly to himself. “They’ve found us.”

The other riders shuffled in fear, drawing closer to the flutist. They seemed equally terrified of the haunted forest before them and the Jin cultivators closing in behind.

“We have to move!” shouted the flutist. He threw one last, wary glance at Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze, then turned to his followers. “Everyone, this way! Stay close to me and I can protect you.” With a wave of his hand, he started leading the others up the trail into the Burial Mounds. The flute came back to his lips, a barbed, formless tune falling from the instrument.

The air shifted. It took Cangse Sanren a moment to realize it wasn’t the storm – it was the resentful energy of the Burial Mounds. It seemed to be responding to the flute. A shield of pulsing, flowing, black swirls of resentful energy formed around the crowd on horseback, until Cangse Sanren couldn’t make them out any more through the dark and rain.

Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze looked at each other. They had only a minute or so before the Jin would land.

“Did you see a single sword in the bunch?”

“No. Just a lot of scared, bloody people.”

“And a child.”

“And a child,” Wei Changze repeated grimly.

Cangse Sanren could feel the venom rising in her throat. “What. The. Fuck. Has Jin Guangshan done now.”

Wei Changze didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

They turned together, swords in hand, to meet the incoming Jin.

Chapter Text

Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze stood together in the pouring rain, sheathed swords in hand, nerves alert as the Jin came closer through the air. They could still clearly hear the trailing, trilling sound of the flute filtering through the ashy trees, stirring the resentful energy around them.

“I’d really like to know how he’s doing that,” said Cangse Sanren.

“If we all survive until tomorrow, maybe you can ask him.”

She frowned. “It’s too easy to track, the sound carries too far.”

Wei Changze followed her glance at the incoming sword glares, then back in the direction of the flutist and his bloodied band on horseback.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said. He traced a sigil in the air, then gave it a little push towards the ground with his spiritual energy. A purple circle bloomed at their feet, spreading a hundred yards in every direction until it seemed to sink into the ground.

“What’d you do?”

“Modified silencing talisman. With the rain falling so hard, hopefully they won’t notice they can’t hear anything else when they’re close to us.”

Then the Jin cultivators were on them, and they were out of time to plan. Not that planning was their style, anyway.

A few dozen Jin cultivators landed before them.

“Which way did those Wen-dogs go?” demanded their leader.

Cangse Sanren already disliked him immensely. “Wen-dogs? You’re a terribly rude little man, aren’t you?”

He bristled, glaring at her with confusion as he took in her slight stature – she was a good eight inches smaller than he was. “Do Wen-dogs deserve our courtesy? Just tell me where they went or get out of my way. I have no quarrel with you.”

“We’ve been night-hunting in the area all night. We haven’t seen another living soul, until you. Who on earth are you looking for?”

“Some of our prisoners escaped. That damn Wei Ying. I knew he would be trouble sooner or later.”

The name hit like a splash of cold water in her already soaked face. How strange, to run across another with that name now. Her heart clenched, suddenly impatient to return to the inn where her precious baby was still asleep, waiting for them to return.

“Wei Ying?” Wei Changze repeated, frowning.

“He thinks he can do whatever he wants, because he has that stupid Tiger Seal and fucking ghost flute. But the Lanling Jin will show him he’s not invincible. It’s high time somebody put the menace in his place. Fucking Wei Wuxian.” He spat the name.

Wei Wuxian. Wei Changze looked at her, and she stared back at him. Was it possible some other man coincidentally had the same birth and courtesy names as their Wei Ying? They had only recently decided what his courtesy name would be when he grew older. They hadn’t even told anyone yet, except that she had mentioned it in passing in her last letter to their old friend Jiang Fengmian.

Their four-year-old son was at this moment asleep in an inn in Yiling, just an hour walk from here.

So what was this windbag talking about, sullying their son’s name with his vile mouth?

“Who the hell are you? What gives you the right to be so vulgar?”

Indignation sparked in his beady eyes – apparently, he thought he was somebody. “I’m Jin Zixun – Jin Guangshan’s nephew. Of course I speak however I want to; what’s anyone going to do about it?”

Wei Changze placed two fingers on Cangse Sanren’s wrist. A light touch; a gentle reminder that she didn’t have to leap at every challenge to cross her path.

Her husband knew her so well. She would find it sweet, if she weren’t so focused on how much she hated everything about this Jin asshole in front of her.

Before she could retort, Wei Changze interjected. “Jin-gongzi, how long has your uncle been sect leader now?”

The question surprised Cangse Sanren, and she shot a sideways glance at her husband. What was he getting at?

“What? My whole life, obviously! Why are you asking me this? Are you just wasting my time? We saw the Wen-dogs ride this way. They didn’t just vanish into thin air.”

Wei Changze responded somehow, but Cangse Sanren didn’t hear it. Everything had dimmed to a distant buzzing in her ears as her head spun and a cold finger of dread curled deep in her gut. Something was terribly wrong.

Her headache from earlier came back with a vengeance, pounding behind her eyes. This must be some nightmare. Nothing made sense. Maybe she was still trapped in that cave, under the power of that ridiculous spider demon. Having nightmares that decades had passed in the span of a single night.

It wasn’t possible, what this man said. A man not much younger than they were.

It could not be true that Jin Guangshan had been sect leader for some 20 years. Just a few weeks before they left for this night-hunt, they had received a formal invitation for some gaudy affair celebrating Jin Guangshan’s ascension to sect leader.

It had been weeks, not years.

How could it be otherwise?

The awful Jin man looked them up and down with a sneer. “Who are you anyway? How do I know you aren’t Wen-dogs yourselves, just trying to throw me off the scent?”

Cangse Sanren felt all her muscles tighten, a predator preparing to pounce. “I’m Cangse Sanren. Call me a dog and see what happens.”

The Jin asshole blinked at her, then suddenly laughed. A beat later, his cronies joined, their mocking laughter mixing with the sounds of wind and rain and unnatural beasts prowling the forest around them.

Cangse Sanren glared. “I fail to see what is so amusing.”

“You couldn’t even come up with a more convincing lie? Who would ever believe you’re Cangse Sanren? Everyone knows she’s been dead for decades. Or were you counting on no one remembering such a meritless rogue cultivator?”

She took a small step closer. “I’m very much alive. But if you doubt me and my merits, why don’t you come over here and I’ll give you a demonstration?”

Lightning flashed, lighting up the red gleam of her sword and the sharp glare of her eye.

Beside her, Wei Changze shifted his weight, subtly falling into an attack stance. He was ready, not even questioning her decision to pick a fight with 30 cultivators of a powerful sect. He really was the best husband.

Picking a fight might not have been her wisest move, but she was tired, and her head hurt, and nothing was making sense, but her gut told her that one way or another, her baby was in trouble. She itched for a fight; longed for the sharp clarity a good fight could bring.

Distantly, she was aware the shuffling in the brush was getting louder – close enough not to be silenced.

The asshole raised his eyebrows and casually looked her up and down, apparently unimpressed with her petite stature. “What’s the point in fighting a dead ghost? A little thing like you isn’t worth my time. I only pursue legendary prey.”

“You done blowing air up the cow’s vagina? Or are you stalling because you’re too scared to fight?”

He was furious now, but still trying to act cocky. He looked over his shoulder at the disciple behind him. “This won’t take long. If the bitch wants a lesson, I’ll give it to her.”

He drew his sword and attacked, flying towards her in a burst of spiritual energy, driving the sharp blade of his sword straight towards her chest.

Cangse Sanren stood her ground and let him come, then at the last second stepped out of the way, grabbing his sword arm as he went by. In a move so fast it blurred, she used his momentum and her hold on his wrist to jerk him around as she kicked out the back of his knee. His sword clattered out of his grip, and he ended up kneeling on the ground with his arm twisted and pinned behind his back.  Cangse Sanren had her knee pressed in the small of his back and her sheath to the side of his neck. She hadn’t even bothered to draw her sword.

“Guess you were right," she said drily. "It really is pointless fighting a timid ghost.”

She heard the echoing shiiiing of 30 Jin swords being drawn as the man at her feet growled.

She glanced at her husband; he was focused, calm, and ready to fight, with his drawn blade in his hand. But she knew the tension in his face meant he didn’t like their odds.

Cangse Sanren was rather more optimistic, based on how useless their leader was. But fighting them all would still take time, and she was impatient to get back to Wei Ying.

She leaned forward to say quietly into the Jin man's ear, “It’s no dishonor to be beaten by a disciple of the Immortal. Better men than you have fallen to this sword. Now, you have two options. You can accept your lesson gracefully, leave now, and remember to have better manners in the future. Or I can continue to humiliate you and your sect until you have so thoroughly lost face you will never hope to regain it even in your next life.”

He growled again and jerked, testing her grip. He got nowhere.

“Or I can kill you. Call it three options, then. I recommend calling off your dogs now, so you can all go on your merry way. Weren’t you urgently looking for someone, anyway?”

He snarled but looked at his disciples and gave a shake of his head. The Jin sheathed their swords, though they looked murderous.

Cangse Sanren released him but stepped back onto the blade of his sword on the ground as he stood and rubbed his sore arm.

He scowled at her. “Whatever. We don’t have time for this,” he said loud enough for his disciples to hear. “We need to search the Burial Mounds.”

One of the other Jin disciples cleared her throat and spoke up. “Boss, I don’t think they’re here. There’s no way they could enter the Burial Mounds without his flute, and we’d have heard it by now.”

“Fine. They must have turned earlier. We’ll head back the way we came and spread out to search.” He glared back at Cangse Sanren and, lowering his voice so the others wouldn’t hear, hissed, “Now give me back my sword.”

“Tell the others to leave first.”

If looks could kill, she’d be dead and fried by now. But he knew as well as she did that he was grievously outmatched.

He turned to his people. “We can’t lose any more time. Head out, and I’ll follow behind in a moment.”

The Jin hesitated, but ultimately mounted their swords and took off into the sky.

“My sword,” he snarled at her.

“Ask nicely.”

“Please.” He ground out the word like a curse.

Cangse Sanren stepped off the sword. With the toe of her boot, she flicked the sword up into the air and caught it by the hilt, handing it to him.

As he sheathed it, he glared at her again. “You’d better hope I never see you again,” he said, uselessly.

“Indeed. Your ugly mug is enough to ruin anyone’s day.”

“If you get in my way again, I’ll kill you.”

Cangse Sanren smirked. “Now I really hope I don’t see you again. You look like a bleeder. It will be an awful pain to clean you off my sword.”

Thunder crashed, and he visibly jumped. Whatever nerve he might have once had, he’d thoroughly lost it by now. Still grumbling under his breath, he leapt into the air on his sword, taking off into the night before Cangse Sanren could insult him again. He flew back towards the town, away from the Burial Mounds.

Away from the mysterious man with the flute he had called by her son’s name.

Trouble now disappearing in the distance, Cangse Sanren turned to her husband. He met her eye, and a silent conversation passed between them for a long moment.

Now that her adrenaline was ebbing, worry was replacing it in her veins. She finally spoke. “We need to find A-Ying.”

“As fast as possible,” her husband agreed.

“So. Which way do we go?”

He was quiet for another moment, and she saw reflected in his gaze her own horrified questions and terrible uncertainty. What had happened while they were trapped in the spider demon’s cave? 

“We left A-Ying at the inn,” Wei Changze finally said quietly. “We should go back there first.”

She nodded and they started walking back towards town.

Before long, she grabbed his sleeve. Her husband looked back at her, waiting still and silent for a sign from her.

Her eyes searched until she saw it again - a glimpse of a faint red light somewhere ahead. She nodded in its direction, and they moved towards it together, alert.

As they came nearer, she realized it was a ward, shimmering red in the night, bold characters glowing with power.

"What's this doing here?"

"Looks like another entrance to the Burial Mounds. Do you think our friend with the flute left it, laying up defenses for whatever stand he plans to make in here?”

“Maybe. Maybe it’s been there a long time, just to keep out curious townsfolk. This place is far too dangerous for people to go wandering in unaware."

"You mean people like us?"

"Of course not. We wander into dangerous places quite intentionally."

"Does something seem off about this ward to you?"

Cangse Sanren frowned, peering through the rain to examine the characters closer, then the way the ward shimmered as waves of resentful energy floated near. She held out her sword and poked at the ward. Instead of giving a slight warble the way she expected, the ward hissed like a wild beast, and she felt a shock of energy go up her arm. Next to her, her husband's eyes widened in alarm as they both realized that resentful energy was pooling around the point she had touched and was rapidly reaching out towards them.

"It's reinforced with resentful energy."

"And now you've pissed it off.”

Just then, the vague shuffling sounds they’d been hearing in the underbrush materialized into fierce corpses, a whole host of them, coming out of the brush. They moved slowly but began to make awful howling noises. The stench of rotting flesh grew stronger around them.

“Looks like the ward isn’t the only thing we’ve pissed off. Let's get out of here.”

Cangse Sanren huffed, wanting to stay and examine the ward some more. But it did seem pissed, and the resentful energy was getting thicker.

She gripped her sword tighter, looking around at the advancing corpses. “We could fight them off.” Even as the words left her lips, another wave of fierce corpses emerged. She took a step back as she looked around. There seemed to be no end of them as they poured out from among the trees. Was the man in black really doing this with his flute? What was he, some kind of inverse Lan, using music to agitate the dead instead of soothe them?

“Haven't we poked enough ghosts for one night? We need to get back to Wei Ying."

"Fine. But we're coming back later. I've never heard of building a ward out of resentful energy."

When she still didn't move, too busy staring at the glowing red characters and shifting waves of smoky energy, Wei Changze snagged her sleeve and started walking, pulling her with him through the pouring rain down the muddy path back to Yiling.

Chapter Text

“Go and do your best.”

His brother’s words echoed in his mind now, until they were drowned out again by the relentlessly driving rain. Lan Wangji felt neither the cold of the rainwater nor the heat of his tears as they mixed together, pouring down his upturned face.

Even through his closed eyelids, he saw when lightning lit the night sky, thunder following on its heels. Lan Wangji had watched as a storm brewed on the horizon.

Now the storm was here.

Do your best.

Lan Wangji had grown up a prodigy: one of the Twin Jades, ranked second among all young masters of his generation, spoken of with glowing pride and admiration. His teachers gushed about his potential, wondered amongst themselves just how high his best would carry him.

Now he knew.

Lan Wangji fell to his knees, barely feeling the impact of the hard ground or the cold of the water flooding the dirt road. This was where his best had left him – the mud of Qiongqi Path seeping into his robes, irrevocably staining the once-pure white.

How useless his best had turned out to be.

His mind was consumed with the image of Wei Ying riding up, reining in his galloping horse where Lan Wangji blocked his path. Rain poured from the edges of Wei Ying's bamboo hat. Frightened people, barely more than shadows, huddled on horseback behind him. He held a child clutched tight to his chest with one arm, the reigns in the other. Lightning flashed behind him; challenge flashed in his eyes.

Despair shot through Lan Wangji, then, crushed in the impossibility of the moment. If he tried to stop Wei Ying, Lan Wangji could never redeem himself from the betrayal of the one he loved most. If he supported Wei Ying, he could never come back from the betrayal to his duty, to his sect, to orthodoxy.

But when he stood aside, choosing to do nothing, as he watched Wei Ying disappear into the endless night split with jagged lightning, as Lan Wangji’s world washed out from under him in the pouring rain, he knew he had instead betrayed himself.

Was there a way back from such a betrayal?

He didn’t know.

But even as the thunder crashed and his head pounded and his heart shook and his body shivered in the soaking cold, he still could not fathom what else he could have done.

A gust of wind hit him, tousling his waist-length hair and blowing his abandoned umbrella away. He hardly noticed. The storm around him was nothing to the storm inside.

The way Wei Ying had looked at him…warily, expecting a fight, steeling himself for Lan Wangji to denounce him. Waiting for the worst from Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji’s heart cracked down the middle and his whole body shook as he wept now in the rain. Wei Ying was right not to trust him, he thought. After all, what had Lan Wangji ever done to help him?

He had tried so hard to protect Wei Ying from anything that might harm him - including himself. Lan Wangji had tried his best.

His best was worthless. Wei Ying knew it. There was only one thing he had ever asked of Lan Wangji.

“If I am doomed to death, at least I could be killed by you.”

He had said those words so surely, there in the pouring rain, holding his flute out before him like a vow, the weight of the world on his shoulders and his eyes brimming with intent.

He trusted Lan Wangji only to kill him.

A sudden laugh burst from Lan Wangji, short and bitter, as his hand wiped uselessly at his eyes. The one thing Wei Ying trusted him to do was the one thing he knew for certain he could never, ever carry out.

All his energy seemed to leave him at once, and his head hung low. He nearly laughed again as he saw Bichen, Dustless, beside him on the ground, eddies of murky water running over its once gleaming silver sheath.

But maybe that was the truth of the matter. Maybe it was not possible to stand with justice while turning one’s back on the world, detached from the dust of earthly affairs.

It was a strange thought, after a lifetime of believing righteousness was rooted in such detachment.

Unexpectedly, another memory flashed through his mind now: watching as a cultivator in white and another in black walked off side-by-side in mutual trust to carry out a shared dream of saving the world and standing together by their ideals.

The day they had met Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan, Lan Wangji had stared after them as they left, his heart yearning for such a life, for such freedom, even knowing it was impossible. His first duty would always be to his family, to his sect, to the Disciplines he lived by.

And tonight, he had watched the last vestiges of that dream gallop away, washed out of sight by the merciless downpour. Lan Wangji’s shoulders shook as new, wrenching sobs tore through him, the weight in his chest unbearable.

“But tell me now, who’s stronger and who’s weaker, who’s right and who’s wrong?”

Wei Ying was determined to stand with justice and seemed so certain he knew what that meant. But Lan Wangji did not know the answer. His best was not enough to discern such a thing.

How could Wei Ying be so certain he was in the right, when the entire rest of the world believed justice lay in a wholly different direction?

Lan Wangji would not have the arrogance to insist he saw white where every other person he respected claimed to see black.

But Wei Ying had always seen differently, his vision somehow unfiltered by familial piety, sect-bound duty, or selfishness.

Lan Wangji ached to hold such certainty, to ever know for sure that he was doing the right thing. It was all he had ever wanted: to do the right thing. And yet, for so long, he had been so devastatingly unsure what that was, and hid his uncertainty beneath a stony countenance, relentless competence, and obdurate adherence to the rules.

He could not conceal his uncertainty anymore. It had left him here, paralyzed in the middle of the road, unable to go forward or back. Unable to make any decision except to not decide.

He had done his best.

He had failed.

He had no way of knowing if a different path may not have ended in failure. He suspected each just had its own version, that there was no way forward in which he could keep his hands clean.

In which he could ever again hope to be dustless.

He believed in the Disciplines. Believed in orthodoxy. Believed in the wisdom of his sect and his uncle and brother.

But he also believed in Wei Ying.

He thought of another day when he had knelt in the middle of a road. Another day when he had clashed with Wei Ying.

“I’m afraid there will be more resentful spirits in Qishan. I’m afraid the music needed now is Requiem.”

Wei Ying had stormed away, leaving Lan Wangji standing surrounded by the slain bodies of Wen civilians in chains laying where they had fallen, struck down by ruthless Jin arrows. Lan Wangji knelt alone in the middle of the road, called his guqin before him, and began to play. Moments later, the melancholy tones of a flute joined him, unseen through the trees, weaving and fusing with the resonating notes of the guqin.

They had been fighting only minutes earlier. It had been the first time Wei Ying asked him, “Lan Zhan. What do you think of the people here? Who is good, and who is evil?”

But Lan Wangji had only thought of Wei Ying, could only focus on the tendrils of black resentful energy that clung to Wei Ying like the smoke from a funeral pyre. He had not considered fully what Wei Ying meant. He knew only his unrelenting terror that Wei Ying was being poisoned from the inside out and seemed to welcome the slow crawl towards his grave.

“Lan Zhan, do you doubt me, too?”

“You promised that you would let me help you.”

“But if you don’t believe me, what can I do for you?”

There were so many things Lan Wangji doubted. So many things that twisted his gut with uncertainty, even while knowing uncertainty was unforgivable. Where was there room for doubt in the stone-carved dictate of Be Righteous?

But playing Requiem that day, sitting in the middle of the road, perfectly in tune with Wei Ying – for the length of one song, he had known he was doing the right thing.

Lan Wangji ached to have such clarity again. Slowly, he dragged a sword-calloused hand down his face. The rain had washed his tears away. Or his tears were lost among the tears of the grieving sky.

He gripped Bichen, and with a great effort no one would believe necessary for Hanguang-Jun, unsteadily climbed to his feet. He looked one last time down the road where the man he loved, the brightest light he had ever known, had disappeared into the unknowable dark.

Lan Wangji closed his eyes and took a breath. He turned towards the path back to Jinlintai and slowly reopened his eyes. With a single step, and then another, he began the long walk back to where his brother waited among the leaders of the cultivation world. He could fly, but he had no desire to get there faster. Nothing awaited him but questions. Many would demand to know why he had done nothing to stop Wei Ying or the Wen prisoners from fleeing. He wondered what he would tell them. (He wondered how they would respond to his inevitable silence.)

The thunder rumbled, farther in the distance now. Bichen’s engraved sheath dug into his palm with his tight grip. With every step, his grief and sodden robes clung to him, cold and heavy.

He could not see in the dark. He knew no other way to go. What could he do now, but hold to the path he had chosen?

Chapter Text

They didn’t speak on their walk back to town. For her part, Cangse Sanren was still hoping this was all a horrible dream, and she would wake any moment in a warm, cozy inn, with her little boy curled into her side, kicking her in his sleep. Any other possibilities were too terrible and unfathomable to contemplate.

By the time they made it into Yiling, the rain was letting up and dawn was breaking, the dim light filtering through the thick morning mist. Street vendors bustled about setting up their stalls for the day. The pair of dripping cultivators walked down the street, sheathed swords in hand, headed for the inn where they had left Wei Ying for the night.

When they arrived, they went straight upstairs to the last room on the right and were surprised to find the door wide open. The room was empty - Wei Ying nowhere to be seen. Even stranger, it looked like a fine layer of dust coated the whole room.

She looked at Wei Changze and saw the same alarm in his eyes. The misgiving in her gut gave a sharp, disorienting lurch.

"He must have woken up early and gone downstairs for breakfast," said Wei Changze, though Cangse Sanren could see in his eyes he didn’t believe it.

"There was no one in the dining room." Her words came out unusually soft; her mouth felt too dry for speech.

"Auntie Liu probably found a spot in the kitchen for him where she can keep an eye on him while she works. She's sweet that way."

As they made their way towards the kitchen, they were stopped by a middle-aged man with a scowl and an apron who seemed disturbed to see them coming down the stairs.

"Can I help you?"

"Is Auntie Liu in the kitchen? Is Wei Ying with her?"

He shook his head, scowl deepening. "Only Cook is in the kitchen. You're looking for someone?"

"Our son,” said Cangse Sanren. “He stayed here last night, by himself - Auntie Liu said she'd keep an eye on him for us. We went out after the spider demon everyone's been worried about."

"But he's not in his room,” Wei Changze continued. “We thought he might have come down for breakfast."

The man looked at them warily, no trace of sympathy in his jowly face. “We didn't have any kids here last night."

"But we paid for the room. He was here when we left. What do you mean you didn't have any kids here last night?" Cangse Sanren pushed down the panic clawing in her chest. There had to be some explanation. A better explanation than the impossible one weaving through the back of her mind. Wei Ying was here. He had to be here.

Wei Changze laced his fingers with hers, and she squeezed his hand until her knuckles turned white.

The man was looking at them like they were crazy and maybe dangerous. "Look, I don't know what you're trying to pull, but I don't have time for it. If you're not a paying customer, you'd best be on your way."

Cangse Sanren was losing her patience. Wei Changze squeezed her hand again, and she bit back the venom on her tongue. Instead, she pulled a large silver piece from the purse at her waist and set it in the man’s palm.

"There. Is that enough to get a moment of your time? Our four-year-old son is missing, and we need to find him. Now we dropped him off at this inn with Auntie Liu while we went night-hunting, expecting to be gone only a few hours. We ran into some complications with the spider demon, and it took us longer than expected to get back, but we're here now and we're not leaving without our son."

The man pocketed the money. "I don't know what to tell you. None of that changes the fact that I've been the owner of this inn for the past 15 years, since old Madam Liu died. And there aren't any kids here. I don't accept unaccompanied minors as renters. I learned my lesson from old Madam Liu. She let a kid stay here alone once, and his no-account parents ran off and left him. She let him live here with her rent-free right up until she died a few months later. The old woman was too soft-hearted for her own good, nearly ran herself out of business. Can't make any money that way."

Cangse Sanren sat down heavily on the bottom step of the staircase, horror crashing through her as the pieces fell together into terrible clarity.

Fifteen years.

The panic Cangse Sanren had been fighting off suddenly clutched her heart tight, keeping it from beating. The room seemed to go fuzzy at the edges and a sharp pain pierced her skull.

Steady hands settled onto her shoulders. "Breathe, A-Se. You have to breathe."

She blinked open her eyes, stared up into her husband’s worried face, and forced herself to take a deep breath. "Wei Changze. Where is my son?"

"We'll find him, A-Se." He turned back to the innkeeper, one strong hand still on her shoulder, grounding her. "The kid you mentioned that Auntie Liu let stay here back then. What happened to him after she died?"

"Who knows? All I know is he didn't stay here anymore. I'm not running an orphanage, after all. Paying customers only."

"You kicked him out? You sent a small child out into the street alone?!" Cangse Sanren leapt back to her feet, hands reaching for her sword.

The man took a step back in alarm, eyes fixed on Cangse Sanren’s sword, a few inches of blade now showing. "I think you'd better leave," he said, trying to sneer, but just looking constipated.

"Gladly,” said Cangse Sanren as her panic and fear swiftly coalesced into cold fury. “But a callous monster like you needs a lesson he won’t forget.”

Before he could speak again, she swiftly traced a glowing red sigil in the air and flicked it at him with enough force to knock him back a step. He caught himself, and then his eyes went wide as he looked down in horror at the front of his robes, where a wet patch was appearing between his legs.

“What have you done?!” he shrieked.

“Hardly anything, yet. What happens next is up to you. It’s a Curse of Consequences, you see. The curse ensures those who are unkind to children will be unable to sire them.”

“Unable to sire them…what does that mean?!” His outrage seemed now to be outpaced by his panic.

“It means every time you so much as speak harshly to a child, your manhood will bear the consequences, shrinking bit by bit until it ceases to function altogether and your testicles shrivel into useless raisins.”

“That- that’s not possible!” He sputtered.

Cangse Sanren shrugged. “You’re welcome to test it. But it won’t take much for the effects to become permanent.”

“You can’t do this to me!”

"I think I can,” said Cangse Sanren tilting her head. “You see, I’m a disciple of Baoshan Sanren the Immortal. My master does not take kindly to the mistreatment of children.” Her eyes narrowed. “Neither do I."

When the innkeeper’s eyes widened, she knew he understood. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the inn.

She stepped out into the misty street and screamed, long and loud, trying to release her overwhelming frustration, anger, and fear. Everyone on the street turned to look at her in alarm, but she didn't care.

Wei Changze appeared in front of her and wrapped her in his arms. "We'll find him, A-Se. We'll figure this out."

An old man selling carved wooden trinkets nearby left his stand to come over. Looking worried, he cleared his throat to get their attention. "Excuse me? Are you ok? Do you need help?"

They turned to look at him, and Cangse Sanren noticed her husband's eyes were glistening.  He had a tightness around his mouth that suggested he was barely holding himself together. She took a deep breath. She had to hold herself together, too. They had to focus on finding Wei Ying.

"Our son is missing," she told the old man.

Concerned filled his eyes. "Oh dear. Is there any way I can help?"

"Actually, maybe you can,” said Wei Changze. “Have you lived here a long time?"

"My whole life.”

"Have you ever heard of a spider demon harassing the town, killing several people?"

"Sure, not likely to forget that. We were all terrified to leave our homes at night. It took a whole group of Jiang cultivators to finally exterminate the beast. About 15 years back.”

More confirmation. Cangse Sanren’s heart sank further. Still, she had to ask, "Jiang cultivators?"

"Yes, Ma'am. That was after a couple of rogue cultivators went after it, or at least we hired them to. Don't know if they run off or if the spider demon got 'em, but we never saw those two again."

Cangse Sanren exchanged a look of resignation and despair with her husband. Wei Changze slowly shook his head, looking dazed, before turning back to the old man. "And Auntie Liu who ran the inn – do you remember a little boy who stayed with her around that time?"

"You're stretching my memory a bit, now. Seems like she had a little kid with her for a while, but I couldn't say much about him."

"You don't know what happened to him after she died?"

“No, I’m sorry.”

"Do you remember any street kids from around that time?"

Wei Changze’s question sent a stab of pain through Cangse Sanren’s heart. Street kids. Had her baby ended up on the street? How could they have let this happen? Cangse Sanren loved being a mother. Adored her baby boy. How could he be cursed with such terrible parents, that they had so utterly failed him? They left him alone. The guilt now outpaced all her emotions but the fear. Her baby boy needed her, and she didn’t know how to find him.

"There's always a handful of street kids running around,” the old man was saying. “I try to help them out now and then when I can, but they all end up looking the same after a while."

Then the old man’s brow furrowed. "Begging your pardon, but your son went missing 15 years ago? So, you're looking for a young man?"

"I…I suppose we are." Her baby was a grown man now? The cold image of the rain-soaked man with the flute and a grim smile flashed through her mind. Wei Ying, they had called him. Could he be her A-Ying, her baby? What had happened to him, in the time she had been gone?

The old man was shaking his head again. "That's a long time to go looking for someone, especially after the war. Everyone and everything got so mixed up, he could have ended up anywhere."

"War?"

He looked at each of them carefully, eyebrows pinched. "The Sunshot Campaign? There's hardly anywhere you could've gone that wasn't ravaged by the war. Where have you two been all this time, a hole in the ground?"

Cangse Sanren blinked. "Yes."

Or a cave, anyway.

“We were the rogue cultivators who disappeared looking for the spider demon,” explained Wei Changze. “The night-hunt went badly, and it’s taken us this long to get back.”

It was the old man’s turn to blink at them. “That’s the craziest story I’ve ever heard. But those Burial Mounds…” He paused and shook his head. “Even the most powerful and arrogant cultivators don’t dare venture into the heart of them. There’s enough concentrated evil in those hills, anything could happen.”

-:-

Cangse Sanren pulled her husband into an alley off the main street through Yiling, out of view of prying eyes, and pulled him into her arms. They held each other tight, eyes closed, for a long moment.

They had awoken into a nightmare, and she knew now there was no hope it would end. She felt like her husband’s arms were the only thing holding her together as the world she knew crumbled to dust inside her. And her baby…

She blinked her eyes open, her face still pressed into Wei Changze’s shoulder. “His eyes were red.”

She didn’t need to say who she meant. There was only one person on either of their minds.

“He was cultivating with resentful energy. I imagine the red eyes will be the least of the ill effects.”

“He shouldn’t need to do that,” Cangse Sanren said into his shoulder. She felt as though her grief and worry would choke the very breath out of her. “Did he never have a chance to develop his golden core? What kind of life did we leave him to, when we disappeared on him?”

Wei Changze pulled back just enough to look her in the eye, arms still wrapped securely around her waist. Wet lines glistened down his cheeks and in the corners of his eyes.

“I don’t know, A-Se.” He swallowed, and it looked painful. “But we will find out. And if nothing else, we know this for sure: our A-Ying is a survivor.”

Cangse Sanren gently thumbed her husband’s tears away and held his dear face in her hands. This sweet, beautiful man. The ground had been ripped out from under them, and they were left with nothing they could count on but each other.

It’s enough, she thought, as she searched the depths of her husband’s eyes. Somehow, together, they would find a way through this.

She nodded and tried to regulate her breathing. “He’s brave, too. He stood unflinching between those wounded, defenseless Wen and all those Jin assholes who looked like they were out for blood.”

A little smile tipped the corner of Wei Changze’s mouth. “He has your spirit, love.”

“And your bright eyes, dear,” she said with a playful flutter of her lashes.

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head fondly, before his eye glinted and he gave a little snort. “I cannot believe you told that innkeeper you cursed him with a dick-shriveling spell.”

“Can’t you?” she replied, trying to keep a straight face, and mostly succeeding.

“It’s not like you to take advantage of commoners’ ignorance of cultivation.”

She scowled. “I decided he’d earned an exception.”

“What will the spell actually do?”

“All his hair down there will fall out, and he’ll have a terribly uncomfortable rash for about three weeks. That should be sufficient evidence for him to believe I was serious.”

Wei Changze chuckled again. “I will never cease to be amazed and delighted by your creativity.”

“You’re the one always inventing new talismans; I just use them creatively. Just think of all we could have accomplished if we had been conscious for the past fifteen years! How could fifteen years have passed just like that? Changze! We’re old now!”

“And yet, you’re still every bit as beautiful as the day I married you,” he said, hand sliding past her jaw, fingers weaving into her hair.

“Sweet talker.” She pretended to swat his chest, but really just smoothed her hands over him as she leaned in for a kiss. He kissed her back, and for just a moment, with his lips pressed to hers, everything felt right in the world again.

Wei Changze pulled back after a minute, resting his forehead against hers. “We need answers. The only place I can think to go is Lotus Pier. If it really has been 15 years, then surely Fengmian has forgiven us by now.”

“Ah. So, he was upset.” Her lip quirked in a wry smile before a frown crossed her forehead again. “But shouldn’t we go back to the Burial Mounds? A-Ying needs us. He’s there holding off the horrors of the dead and the entire Jin Sect on his own.”

“I’m not sure what we could accomplish that his army of fierce corpses couldn’t. And he doesn’t know who we are. If we show up in the midst of his enemies, he may attack us by mistake. Certainly, his corpse lackies won’t know the difference. If we can get more context, we’ll be in a better position to help him.”

“He seems to have gained a reputation for himself. I bet his cultivation style has freaked out more than one of the sects.” She smirked. “I wonder if he’s ever run into the Gusu Lan. Qiren would be losing his shit.”

“I really think Fengmian is likely to be the most sympathetic, especially if he knows who A-Ying’s parents are. And Lotus Pier is only a short flight from here. If we decide to, we can come right back and launch a reckless two-man incursion into the Yiling Burial Mounds any time.”

She gave him an amused side-eye that did little to disguise her underlying worry. “You always know just what to say, love. Lotus Pier it is.” She sighed. “But Changze, I miss my baby.”

“I know, A-Se. I do, too. We’ll get him back. One way or another, we’re putting our family back together.”

Chapter Text

Cangse Sanren watched her husband with concern as he stared, face drawn and pale, at the gates of Lotus Pier. The new gates. As new as the compound wall and every other building in sight, standing where century-old structures ought to be. Wei Changze held his sword in a white-knuckled grip, eyes glued to those gates, feet unwilling to move.

This used to be home; her husband knew every nook and cranny of Lotus Pier and the surrounding town. But everything they knew was gone, replaced with unfamiliar facsimiles, just similar enough to the originals to be jarring. What older buildings still stood were largely burned-out husks, the destruction of war evident everywhere they turned.

What would they find, if they entered those gates?

Not ready to find out, Cangse Sanren took her husband's hand with a gentle squeeze and led him to a small street-side café, ordering them some tea and buns.

The food sat untouched on the table before them, growing cold, as Wei Changze continued to watch the gates and Cangse Sanren listened to the gossip churning around them in the busy market. Eventually, she started to ask the elderly woman serving them about what had happened here during the war, knowing it must be bad. They could see that Yunmeng had been hit hard.

But nothing could have prepared them for the truth.

Wei Changze grasped her hand so tightly under the table she thought it might bruise, as the sympathetic café owner softly relayed the story of the massacre of Lotus Pier. Of the deaths of Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan, and most of the rest of the sect. The burning and destruction of the only real home Wei Changze had ever known.

“It was awful, during those days,” the old woman said. “Death was everywhere. It was only sometime later we learned of the survivors, and that was our first glimmer of hope. We’d watched those kids grow up; folks around here are protective of them. Sweet Jiang-guniang, gruff Jiang-gongzi, and Wei-gongzi always laughing somewhere nearby, trailing in their wake.”

For the first time, Wei Changze’s gaze left the gates of Lotus Pier, pulled to the old woman. “Wei-gongzi? Did Wei Ying grow up here?”

She looked surprised. “Yes, of course. I thought everyone knew he was Yunmeng Jiang’s head disciple. He was practically attached at the hip with the Jiang heirs.”

Relief washed over Cangse Sanren as she met her husband’s eyes and saw the swirl of emotion there. He gave her hand a little squeeze and brushed his thumb over the back of her knuckles.

Jiang Fengmian had found Wei Ying, taken him in as a Jiang disciple. Her baby had been protected and loved. He had grown up a Yunmeng Jiang, like his father. Tears pricked her eyes now for the first time since waking up in that awful cave.

She turned back to the old woman, who was watching her with concern. “Thank you,” she whispered, dabbing at her eyes. “Wei Ying is… a relative of ours. We’ve been away for a long time, and we just learned that his parents disappeared when he was little. We were worried what had happened to their little boy.”

“Oh,” said the old woman softly, compassion in her old eyes. She sat down with them at the table. “Wei-gongzi has been buying lotus paste buns from me since he was a rambunctious little thing, running all along the docks of Lotus Pier, getting into whatever mischief he could find and pulling little Jiang-gongzi along with him. He’s always been a free spirit, that one.” She smiled fondly and Cangse Sanren’s heart warmed.

“Like his mom,” said Wei Changze, his own soft smile crossing his face.

“I had heard Cangse Sanren was quite the impressive cultivator," said the old woman, "though I never had the privilege to meet her myself. Although, one hears things. Especially since old Sect Leader Jiang brought the little Wei boy back.”

“What kinds of things?”

“Oh, you know. People are always wagging their tongues about something, wanting to sound like they know more than the next person. It was rumored that old Sect Leader Jiang favored the Wei boy because, well, it was really his son. Folks speculated he’d had an affair with Cangse Sanren, his old flame, and brought his own son back here when she died.”

Wei Changze stared at the woman, flabbergasted. “I beg your pardon,” he said.

Cangse Sanren looked at her husband and blinked in disbelief. Then she felt, of all things, laughter bubble up inside her and erupt from her mouth before she could stop it. The others looked at her, startled, as she laughed and giggled helplessly, hiding her traitorous mouth behind her sleeves. She couldn’t stop it; all the intense emotions she’d had all day were transmuting into slightly deranged, uncontrollable laughter.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, wiping new tears from eyes. “But just the thought of Jiang Fengmian with…” and she dissolved into giggles once again. “It’s just so preposterous.” Wei Changze gave her a wry look, but there was a twitch of amusement on his lips, too.

“You seem to know Cangse Sanren quite well, then,” said the old woman, looking rather uncomfortable now.

“I would like to think I do,” said Cangse Sanren. “And I’m sorry, but that just…where do people even come up with stories like that? Surely no one actually believed it?” She tried to suppress the laughter and ended up snorting instead.

“Old Sect Leader Jiang never did much to dissuade the rumors, I’m afraid.”

Wei Changze shook his head, looking back at the gates of Lotus Pier. “I wonder if he wanted to believe Wei Ying really was his son. The foolish man. I hope it didn’t cause strife within the family.”

“Those rumors certainly did nothing to improve Madam Yu’s temper, I can tell you that much. But these things are ancient history now, they hardly matter at this point.” She waved a hand, as if dismissing the rumors into the air.

“What about more recent history, then?” asked Cangse Sanren. “What have you heard about Wei Ying lately? Is he still here at Lotus Pier?”

“He was,” said the old woman, looking troubled. “But…he’s been rather different since the war. It took its toll on all of us, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, before, he caused his share of mischief, but was always right at hand when his sect leader or shidis and shimeis needed him. Since he returned… I’m afraid lately you’re more likely to find him at that tavern across the street than at the training fields. His temper is shorter, too. Used to be you could hardly get any expression but a smile from him, but his moods seem to shift with the wind these days. You can hardly blame him, after everything he’s been through. First losing his parents, then his entire sect.” She shook her head sadly.

Cangse Sanren was distracted for a moment, as a man in white with the forehead ribbon of the Gusu Lan descended from the sky on his sword, landing just outside the gates. The Jiang disciples on guard there looked tense, but let him in immediately, as if they had been waiting for him. He followed them through the gates and vanished from sight.

“Have you seen Wei Ying lately?” Wei Changze was asking. “Do you know where we might find him?”

The old woman hesitated, looking concerned again. “There was a disturbance last night. Jin cultivators flew in right up to the gates in the wee hours of the morning and started causing a commotion.”

“What happened?”

She shook her head. “Rumors have been flying all day. I can hardly make sense of it. It sounds like Wei-gongzi flew into a prison labor camp last night where the Jin had been holding Wen cultivators from the war, and then he just went crazy. They say he raised a Ghost General with strength and swiftness the likes of which no one’s ever seen, killing a whole slew of Jin before freeing all the Wen who were being held there. If the Jin are to be believed, he was not provoked in the slightest. They say his dark cultivation has finally gotten the best of him, and he’s just gone crazy. Dangerous and unpredictable, they said. I hope they’re wrong.”

“Did they say where he went?”

“They were still looking for him, last I heard. I hope this is all a wild misunderstanding. He’s such a sweet boy, really. This is too awful to believe.”

“I agree,” said Cangse Sanren. “I don’t believe it. Not all of it, anyway. Have you heard of any response from Lotus Pier yet?”

“Sect Leader Jiang must have met with the Jin last night, but they left looking angry. Lotus Pier has been quiet since then.”

As if rebutting her words, the gates to Lotus Pier opened again just then, and the Gusu Lan cultivator reappeared.

“You’ve been most helpful,” said Cangse Sanren hurriedly as she stood from the table. “Thank you for your time, we really appreciate it.”

Before waiting for a response or giving a proper farewell, she was running towards the Lan cultivator. She caught his eye just as he was about to mount his sword.

She saluted him, and she noticed him catch sight of her sword. He likely identified her as a rogue cultivator, though he was too young to have any idea who she was. “Good morning, young master,” she said. “Have you brought news to Lotus Pier? We heard something about what happened last night, and we’d like to be of service if we can.”

He returned the salute, then looked her over. He glanced past her to where Wei Changze was now stepping up beside her, putting his coin purse away. Ah. He must have stopped to pay for their food. Good thing someone thought of that.

The Lan cultivator seemed to come to a decision, then said. “They found Wei Wuxian and the escaped Wen; they seem to be hiding out in the Yiling Burials Mounds. Jin Guangshan has called a meeting of all the sects, to discuss how to respond. I was just delivering the message to Sect Leader Jiang.”

“It seems one of our relatives may have been involved in the incident,” said Cangse Sanren.

He seemed startled by that. “I’m terribly sorry,” he said, and even seemed sincere. “They’ll be meeting in a few hours in Jinlintai. You’ll have an easier time getting into the meeting if you come with one of the major sects, though.”

He was likely right that rogue cultivators would be less than welcome among the snooty Jin, but Cangse Sanren had rarely found anywhere she had trouble getting into if she was motivated.

“Thank you for the information. If you don’t mind my asking, why is the information coming from the Gusu Lan instead of directly from Jinlintai?”

“Hanguang-Jun sent me. I’m faster on a sword than most. He wanted Sect Leader Jiang to get the message as soon as possible and seemed concerned the Jin might dawdle. I’m afraid I must be off now; I have more messages to deliver.”

“Of course, thank you,” Cangse Sanren gave another salute. He returned a nod and stepped onto his sword, taking off into the sky.

She watched him disappear among the clouds – his speed was indeed impressive.

Hanguang-Jun. The title was unfamiliar to her. Whoever he was, he was concerned enough about the incident to act urgently – but distrusted the Jin. Was it possible he was on Wei Ying’s side of this? She herself had once had friends among the Gusu Lan. (She wondered if Lan Qiren had also considered them friends. She almost smiled remembering Lan Qiren’s outraged face as his fingers continued brushing over the bare skin where his prized goatee used to be.)

Could Wei Ying have also managed to thaw a few icy Lan hearts? She realized if he was the Yunmeng Jiang’s head disciple, he likely studied at the Cloud Recesses, as she had. Something about that thought made her feel warm and soft inside. Maybe he would have some allies left from his time there?

Then she sighed. Even if he once had, if he had truly turned to demonic cultivation, any friends he may have had among the Gusu Lan would be forced to renounce him. The sect elders would never permit continued association with such ‘wicked tricks’.

Most likely, the distrust toward Sect Leader Jin just meant this Hanguang-Jun was not a fool. The message to Yunmeng Jiang was only a heads-up to a closely allied sect.

“So,” said Wei Changze beside her, breaking into her thoughts. “The story is that a Yunmeng Jiang disciple killed some Lanling Jin disciples to set free some Qishan Wen prisoners of war. But Jin Guangshan called a meeting of all the sects to discuss it? What do the others have to do with it?”

“We’re missing something,” said Cangse Sanren. “But I don’t like the smell of this.”

“You know, what no one has said anything about so far is why he might have broken into a prison camp and freed everyone there. Surely he had a reason beyond ‘the evil cultivation made me do it’?”

“You have to admit, though, it doesn’t look good, setting free Wen war prisoners when the Wen are responsible for such atrocities.”

He looked at her thoughtfully. “Including the destruction of Lotus Pier,” he said softly. “The murder of Wei Ying’s sect and sect leader, and all the younger disciples he was responsible for.” He shook his head. “The Yunmeng Jiang are tight-knit and loyal. If he grew up here, there’s no way he would protect anyone truly responsible for the war crimes we’ve heard about.”

“You know what else no one has mentioned,” said Cangse Sanren, as vivid memories of exhausted, scared people on horseback flashed through her mind. “Is why there was a child in a prison labor camp.”

“We have to be at that meeting.”

“It sounds like we barely have enough time to get there from here. Do you suppose Jin Guangshan did that on purpose?”

“Yes, though I’m not sure why, other than to set everyone else off balance by making them rush over. There’s something more going on, and I’d lay strong odds on Jin Guangshan being behind it.”

Just then a handful of cultivators riding purple sword glares rose from within Lotus Pier, flying fast in the direction of Lanling.

“Time to move,” she said, as they mounted their swords, rising into the air. Cangse Sanren set her sights for Lanling and set her jaw in apprehensive determination; she didn’t know what was coming, but she was certain they were flying into trouble.

Chapter Text

Jiang Yanli startled awake at the sound of a commotion on the training field. She squinted at the bright sunlight and winced at the crick in her neck as she raised her head from where it was nestled on her arms on the table in front of her, nearly knocking over a cold cup of tea. She had been up all night, ever since the Jin cultivators showed up and Jiang Cheng had yelled at them until they left.

Wei Wuxian was missing. The Jin were saying terrible things about him. The only part of it that made any sense was that Wei Wuxian rushed off to save Wen Ning somehow. That was her didi, through and through. What had happened after that, she had no idea.

She was thankful they at least had some warning, before the Jin found Wei Wuxian and could make their next move. She had time to think. To worry, too, and to wish she had more information.

As the haze of exhausted sleep cleared her mind, she realized the noise outside meant new developments. She rushed out to the fields just in time to see a flock of purple sword glares disappearing into the sky. Disbelief, indignation, and fear swept through her in a disorienting rush. She turned to the first disciple she saw. “Where did they go? What news was there?”

“Da-shijie, there was a messenger a moment ago. Jin Guangshan is calling a meeting of all the sects in Jinlintai, in just a few hours. They found Wei Wuxian.”

“Why didn’t someone notify me?!”

“Jiang-zongzhu was worried about you. He said no one was to disturb you, so you could get some sleep. He left just now for Jinlintai.”

She let out a sharp breath through her nose. Jiang Cheng had left without her? Without even telling her what was going on? She shook her head, too worried to be angry.

Jiang Cheng had somehow picked up the notion that as sect leader, he always had to do everything on his own. He acted as if to ask for help would be to reveal himself as a fraud and an eternal disappointment to their parents.

But sometimes, no matter who you were, you needed back-up. She wished both of her brothers would realize they weren’t alone, and needn’t shoulder their heavy burdens in isolation.

Now she had a sinking, twisting feeling in her gut that both her didi’s were in over their heads, and each would sooner die than ask for help.

She shuddered to think what might have happened if the Jin had not been delayed in their pursuit of Wei Wuxian, if Jiang Cheng had been called suddenly to a meeting in the middle of the night and left her without any way to know what was going on or able to help.

These thoughts swirled fast and sharp through her mind, until she zeroed in on the most important.

“Is that where A-Xian is? Lanling?”

The disciple shook his head, the look on his face stirring the worry in her gut. “He’s in the Yiling Burial Mounds.”

The world tilted and the disciple jumped to her side, holding her up by her arm.

“Da-shijie, are you alright?” The disciple’s eyes were wide and concerned.

The Burial Mounds. Wei Wuxian never spoke of the three months he spent there during the war. She knew only that when he dreamt of them, he woke with his voice hoarse from screaming, drenched in sweat, and skittish as a rattle snake. He’d nearly attacked her once when she’d sought to comfort him, before he awakened enough to recognize her.

Jiang Yanli took a breath and straightened herself, smoothing her robes and taking a step back. “How? Who could have thrown him there?”

“They say he rode in himself, along with all the escaped Wen fugitives. They say he’s hiding out there, knowing no one else is foolhardy enough to follow him in. Everyone knows no one who enters comes out alive.”

Jiang Yanli closed her eyes for a moment. Hiding out in the Burial Mounds. How desperate must he be, to seek refuge in the place of his worst nightmares? Worry curled hot and sick in her stomach. Something was horribly, terribly wrong, and her didi was in trouble.

Wei Wuxian would only take people to such a place if he believed it safer than the dangers that pursued them. Which meant the Jin were trying to kill him, and he would not be able to leave the Burial Mounds without risking his life.

She wished he had sought refuge at Lotus Pier, at his home, where a small army of well-trained cultivators were loyal to his every word. But she knew her brother too well: Why parry a sword thrust and risk it hitting someone else, when he could throw himself in front of the sword instead? He would rather sacrifice his life than endanger those he loved. Jiang Yanli wanted to cry, heart sick that he still did not understand what family meant. But she didn’t have time for tears.

Whoever the rest of these escaped Wen were, Wei Wuxian believed them worth saving, and they would not survive long in the Burial Mounds without food and some basic supplies.

“Listen carefully,” she said to the disciple, as a plan started taking shape in her mind. “I need you to run to the kitchens and have the cooks pack several qiankun pouches with canteens of drinking water, and several more with nonperishable foods, the kinds you would bring on a long nighthunt trip. Bring them back to me as soon as you have them.”

The disciple nodded and took off. She was thankful he did not question her intentions.

She was doing enough of that herself.

She had two brothers, and both were in trouble. One was surrounded by centuries of fierce corpses hungry with resentful energy; the other by a pack of wolves, hungrily watching for any sign of weakness.

Jiang Cheng had a least taken a handful of their most experienced cultivators with him – and he had made the choice not to tell her. If she showed up uninvited to Jinlintai, he may think she doubted his capability and react poorly.

Wei Wuxian was alone. Someone had to find him. If no one else was going, she would go herself.

She jogged to the storerooms and packed several qiankun pouches with blankets, first aid supplies, and other survival gear they routinely took on nighthunts. Then on a hunch, she filled another with blank talisman papers and inksticks. She didn’t know how he might use them, but Wei Wuxian was a genius when it came to talismans. Anything that could help keep her didi safe in such a dangerous place, she was bringing with her. One last pouch, she filled with her own silver.

The other disciple returned, handing over the qiankun pouches all tied together on a length of rope. Jiang Yanli added her own, and then threw it over her shoulder. Immediately, she knew she had a problem. Even in qiankun pouches, the load would be too heavy for her to fly safely; her golden core just wasn’t strong enough. She sighed and made her way to an available boat on the pier, grateful Yiling was at least on the river.

The disciple watched her with concern as she slapped a propelling talisman onto the boat and began drifting away. “What do I tell Jiang-zongzhu?”

“If Jiang-zongzhu asks – and only if he asks – I’ve gone to see A-Xian. He can come find me if he wants.”

She was angry Jiang Cheng had tried to leave her out of this, out of something so dire that could tear her family apart. The anger followed her fear and grief, surging through her on well-trod paths. The familiar tormenting emotions pulled her right back to the beginnings of the war, when she lost her home and was separated from her siblings. Her brothers had made that choice for her, too, sending her away from them. Let her go months without knowing if they were dead or alive.

These dumb-dumb brothers of hers, whom she loved more than anything – how could they not understand that separation was the problem, and never a solution?

She was tired of people making all her decisions for her, as if she were too infantile to make them for herself. Setting her betrothal. Breaking her betrothal. Sending her away from the battle at Lotus Pier, and then sending her away from her wounded brothers. Keeping secrets from her, as if that could protect her. As if the secrets themselves were not another wound in her side. As if she could not handle knowing. As if she could be of no use to her brothers beyond petting their heads and making them soup.

The thought of the broken betrothal brought her thoughts to Jin Zixuan, and her heart ached. It had been less than a week since he had confessed his feelings for her, blurting them out in front of everyone at Phoenix Mountain and then fleeing. She had hoped for so long that he would eventually return her feelings, that maybe a future together was possible for them.

Was he involved in any of this? She pushed the thought away. If the man she had hoped to marry was at this moment hunting down her didi…it was a thought too awful, and too possible, to consider.

Jiang Yanli watched the shore going by with impatience, knowing each moment that passed was another moment Wei Wuxian was alone and in danger. With a huff of frustration, she finally drew out a second propelling talisman and slapped it down by the first. The boat was now going fast enough it would be difficult to steer. But if her brothers could endanger themselves to protect their family, then fuck it, so could she.

Chapter Text

Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze landed in Lanling a few blocks from Jinlintai, wanting to keep a low profile as they made their way towards the Jin Sect’s headquarters. Cangse Sanren hadn’t spent a lot of time in Lanling, but she spotted a few landmarks she recognized: a gilded temple; an expansive bathhouse gleaming in pale marble; a bustling market district. The city was impressive, filled with soaring, graceful architecture and shining surfaces. But she still did not care for the press of people around her. The city seemed even more crowded now than she remembered.

“Did you notice?” Wei Changze asked softly beside her after a few minutes.

“Notice what? Everything looks the same as I remember.”

“Exactly. Yunmeng is in shambles from the war, yet Lanling remains as gaudy and pretentious as ever.”

She looked around again, and realized he was right. “Somehow Lanling managed to escape the destruction of war.”

The only sign of recent upheaval were the ragged people filling every alley and unused doorway, more beggars than she had ever seen anywhere.

“It must have come close, judging by the abundance of war refugees.” Cangse Sanren gripped her sword tighter, her righteous anger growing as she noticed more hungry people on the sides of streets, ignored by the wealthy passersby as if they were nothing but unsightly detritus.

 “Knowing Jin Guangshan, he probably played both sides as long as possible, happily offering up surrounding areas as tribute to keep the enemy appeased and out of Lanling.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course. It would save him the bother of picking a side and fighting a war.”

“I can’t imagine he has earned much loyalty from the common people, though.”

“I can’t imagine he cares. When has Lanling Jin ever cared about the common people?”

She regretted her cynical tone when her husband’s face went tight around the eyes. He already wore his grief openly in his creased brow and in the new lines that had appeared at the sides of his mouth. He wasn’t the one who deserved her ire.

He looked back at her and must have seen the apology in her eyes, because he gave her a sad smile and squeezed her hand. He held her gaze for a few moments, standing still as the crowd flowed around them like river water around an unmoving boulder. Cangse Sanren felt her tension ease at the reassurance she found in his soft eyes. He already knew her harshness had been her own grief speaking.

She was grateful for his steadiness, even as she wondered how he was handling all this so much better than she was.

Still holding her hand, Wei Changze started walking again, tugging her gently until she fell into step beside him. Jinlintai rose above them as they drew closer, casting a long shadow across the city.

Cangse Sanren looked up at the tower as she wondered aloud, “Do you get the feeling the fall of the Qishan Wen left an enormous power vacuum?

“Mn. And if the Jin were the only ones not to suffer drastic losses in the war…Jin Guangshan must be angling by now to fill it. I don’t know what that has to do with Wei Ying, but knowing Jin Guangshan, he won’t hesitate to use this situation to his advantage. Maybe Wei Ying just created an opening for him.”

“He’s holding this meeting on his home turf. The minor sects who attend will lean heavily towards Jin Sect vassals.”

“But the three other major sects have never given Jin Guangshan’s nonsense the time of day. He was straight up afraid of Sect Leader Nie.”

“And the only person Sect Leader Nie was ever intimidated by was Xia Dong.”

“Like Sect Leader Nie, some of us prefer living in awe and terror of our wives,” said Wei Changze with a wink.

Cangse Sanren tossed him a fond half smile at his teasing. She wondered briefly if Jiang Fengmian ever felt that way about his own fearsome wife, before her thoughts drifted again.  “You know, Gusu Lan may look down their noses at Yunmeng’s ‘lack of discipline’, but they would hardly side with Lanling over it.”

“Who do you think is running Gusu Lan now?”

She scowled and did nothing to prevent the scathing bitterness from seeping into her tone. “It’s got to still be Lan Qiren, right? Qingheng-Jun would never do anything so reasonable as to either resolve his situation or conveniently die.”

Wei Changze winced. “I’m sorry I brought it up. It doesn’t matter anyway. Neither of the Lan brothers care much for Jin Guangshan. The Yunmeng Jiang may be undisciplined by Lan standards, but the Lanling Jin are unforgivably licentious by nearly any standard.”

She snorted. “That’s putting it lightly. Jin Guangshan might as well be the poster child for profligate shamelessness.”

“Really, unless the situation is much more dire than we realize, Yunmeng Jiang should be able to ride this out by offering appropriate restitution and then insisting this is an internal conflict to resolve. If they close ranks around their own, Sect Leader Nie and Lan Qiren are unlikely to interfere.”

“And Jin Guangshan would need to have developed immeasurably better diplomacy skills to be able to rouse the minor sects sufficiently without the major sects on board.”

“Why put in the work to develop a silver tongue when everything you want is handed to you on a golden platter? If he wants to cause trouble now, I think he’ll have his work cut out for him.”

They had circled around to the back side of the tower and stood in an alley now where they could see a servant’s entrance into Jinlintai.

“So,” Wei Changze looked at her with a raised brow. “How are we getting in?”

“Why do you assume I’ll be the one with a plan?”

“Hm.”

“Shh, look, the door’s opening.”

They watched as a middle-aged man in the golden-orange uniform of the Jinlintai servants emerged, locking the door behind him and stowing the key in a pouch on his belt. As he then stepped out into the crowded street, a beggar woman kneeling nearby clutched at the skirts of his robes, asking for food.

He scowled at her, a look of outrage overtaking his face before he kicked her. Cangse Sanren gasped as the woman went sprawling.  

Wei Changze caught her arm as Cangse Sanren took a step forward. “What are you going to do?”

“Don’t worry, love. I won’t make a scene. Yet.”

He still had his eyebrows raised but let her go, and she melted seamlessly into the crowded street. She saw her husband follow her out of the alley, but he instead kept to the edges of the crowd as he made his way toward the beggar woman. Cangse Sanren, meanwhile, had her attention fixed on the coldhearted servant as the flow of humanity carried him towards her.

In the press of bodies of the crowd, that jerk-off never even noticed her bumping into him, let alone that his belt was now a few ounces lighter. She was not sorry about the punishment he would receive when his masters found out he lost the key to Jinlintai.

By the time she made her way back to where the beggar woman knelt at the side of the road, Wei Changze had purchased a variety of street foods and taken a seat next to her.

“A-Se, come have a seat! You need to eat something after we’ve travelled so far this morning. Here, have a bun.” He pulled her down next to him and put a bun in her hands. “Oh, this is A-Fan. She used to work here, in Jinlintai.”

Cangse Sanren smiled, both at her husband's geniality and the young woman, who was looking nervous even as she took a few hesitant bites from a meat skewer. “It’s lovely to meet you, A-Fan. I hope you don’t mind us eating with you?”

The woman shook her head, eyes wide. “I don’t mind,” she said, looking back and forth between them with cautious curiosity.

“So, you used to be a servant here? But no longer?”

“I lost my position when I got pregnant.” She sighed and gestured at the large basket beside her, which indeed contained a sleeping infant.

Wei Changze frowned. “Does your husband work here?”

“I don’t have a husband. And there is no hope my daughter’s father will ever acknowledge her. He doesn’t even remember my name.”

“What a scoundrel!” Cangse Sanren found her ire rising quickly again.

“None of it was your idea, was it?” asked Wei Changze gently.

“No. Certainly not.”

“And they dismissed you for it?”

A-Fan nodded, resignation and desolation weighing down her young features.

Cangse Sanren laid a soft hand on her arm. “We could get justice for you, if you tell us who he is. If you want.”

The woman’s eyes darkened with worry. “No, I just want to get out of here and forget any of this ever happened. I want to focus on my daughter and give her a better life. But I have nowhere to go, and no money or recommendation to start over with.”

Wei Changze pulled an envelope from his sleeve – Cangse Sanren saw that it was addressed to him, in Jiang Fengmian’s handwriting. He held it out to the woman. “If you want, you could take this to Lotus Pier in Yunmeng, tell them Wei Changze recommended you. My word should still be worth something there. They should give you a chance at least. I’m sorry it’s a bit far to travel, especially with a baby.”

Hope lit the woman’s eyes. “Far from Lanling sounds perfect. How can I ever thank you?”

“As it happens,” said Cangse Sanren, “We were on our way to visit Jinlintai, but we have no invitation.”

“You’ll never get in without an invitation,” she replied frowning. “What are you going there for?”

“To cause trouble for Sect Leader Jin,” Cangse Sanren said casually. “We have a key to this door here, but we don’t know our way through Jinlintai. We need to make it close to the Pageant Hall before anyone realizes we aren’t supposed to be there. Think you could help us out?”

“Oh, definitely. I can show you a way no one will ever notice you. But the Jin Sect are quite dangerous – how will you ever make it back out?”

“Don’t worry, we’re cultivators. We have our tricks. Escape won’t be an issue.”

“Mostly we’re here to eavesdrop on a meeting,” added Wei Changze. “Depending on how it goes, they may never know we were here at all.”

Personally, Cangse Sanren thought he was a little naively optimistic on that front, based on how furious she was at Lanling Jin before they even made it into the building. But she held her tongue for now.

“But it will cause trouble for the Jin Sect?” asked A-Fan with a new glint in her eye.

“Absolutely.”

“I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

They slipped into an unused guest room a couple halls down from where the sects were gathering in the Pageant Hall and slid the door closed behind them.

“I fucking hate Jins,” said Cangse Sanren as she walked over to a low settee and sprawled across it. “I always think they can’t possibly sink any lower, and then they go and prove me wrong again.”

“They do make themselves impressively unlikable. But even with Qishan Wen out of the picture, the three other major sects should be enough to hold them in check, at least in the larger political picture.”

“I hope A-Fan makes it to Lotus Pier alright.”

“When all this is over, we’ll check for her.”

“So. A little paperman spying then?”

“It’s risky.”

“We’ve already broken into one of the most dangerous buildings in the Jianghu. All the options from here are just different shades of risky.”

“Sure, but this one you take the risk alone. That’s the part I don’t like. It’s better when we stick together.”

“We will, for all the important parts. This is just a little recon first, and then once we know what they’re up to, we’ll figure out our next move together. Honestly, I thought you’d be proud of me for wanting to get the lay of the land before charging in, sword swinging.”

“I’m always proud of you, love. You’re right, this is probably the smart move. You get all comfy and do your paperman thing, and I’ll wait here guarding your unconscious body while you scamper off and eavesdrop on the who’s who of the cultivation world.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

As the paperman carrying Cangse Sanren’s consciousness crept under the heavy doors of the Pageant Hall, she saw through her little paper eyes that the room was filled with over fifty sect leaders from sects of all sizes. Jin Guangshan sat in his absurd peacock throne on the dais at the front of the hall, aged despite his high cultivation level. Seated just off the dais to his right, in the next highest place of honor, was a young man who, by dress and by facial features, could only be the Jin Sect Heir. Another young man with distinctly Jin eyebrows and a very stupid hat stood between them, on a low step of the dais. Her eyes caught on this smaller man for a moment, wondering why he seemed familiar somehow. Then she scowled as she noticed the Jin asshole they’d run into at the Burial Mounds, seated off to the side.

She caught a draft of breeze blowing in from the high open windows, and let it carry her up to one of the beams near the ceiling, carefully avoiding the candlelit chandelier in the center of the room. From here, she had a clear view of anything that might happen.

In the front rows along the central aisle of the room, the highest-ranking cultivators sat in the familiar colors of the major sects but with unfamiliar faces. Unfamiliar young faces, set with solemn expressions. The sect leaders and elders she expected were not here. Unease churned in her gut as she realized all their predictions were now foundationless.

Something about the room set-up felt off-balance, too, and then Cangse Sanren realized it was because the Qishan Wen were missing altogether. The war really had changed the landscape of the whole cultivation world. Would she even know the rules of this strange new world she now found herself thrown into?

The young Jiang Sect Leader was the center of everyone’s attention. Fengmian’s boy. The sight of him in Fengmian’s seat with Zidian on his wrist made the deaths of her friends suddenly all too real, and she had to fight to maintain her focus as a fresh wave of grief rolled over her.

Little Sect Leader Jiang seemed far too young to have fought in a war, let alone to be leading a major sect. She knew he was about the same age as Wei Ying – they couldn’t be older than 18 or 19 now. Cangse Sanren was furious and aggrieved she hadn’t been there to protect them, even if she didn’t have anywhere now to direct her anger.

The only other person in the room Cangse Sanren recognized was Lan Qiren. As her eyes swept over the Gusu Lan delegation, a swirl of conflicting emotions hit her. It was a relief to see a familiar face. He looked much the same as always, still stiff and severe, though now a little worn around the edges. The war had taken its toll on him, too, it seemed.

She saw him stroke his beard absently, and she wanted to laugh. The beard looked much nicer now than when they were teens - less patchy. For the first time, it occurred to Cangse Sanren that reappearing after being dead for fifteen years could be fun. Lan Qiren’s face would be priceless, certainly.

Her old, stuffy friend (did he consider them friends?) sat beside the young sect leader of Gusu Lan. His nephew? Was that Bai Sichun’s son, all grown up?

Her heart squeezed at the memory of the woman who had once been one of her closest friends, at the unjust tragedy that had befallen her. Was she still alive? If her son was Sect Leader, that meant Qingheng-Jun was finally dead. Good riddance, Cangse Sanren thought with grim satisfaction.

Had Sichun seen the beautiful men her sons had grown into? And it had to be sons. The young man sitting behind Sect Leader Lan was nearly his twin, but for the contrast of their expressions. The sect leader held an expression of solemn serenity, while the younger seemed to project a deadly frost.

The pair intrigued her, and the longer she looked at them, the more she saw her dear friend’s features in their faces, pale and flawless as jade. A-Huan. The name of Sichun’s oldest came back to her. But why hadn’t she heard about a second child? Had he been born after Cangse Sanren disappeared?

She frowned. How had Sichun had another child while in involuntary seclusion? Cangse Sanren shook off the troubling question for another day. She needed to focus, and she was already distracted, her eyes catching on all the gaps, the absences of familiar faces that should have been here. She ached with the lost time. So many of the people she had known must be gone now.

But it only sharpened her resolve. If the only person left to her in this world was her son, she would protect him with everything she had.

While she had been making her observations of the attendees, the meeting had begun. Everyone was now listening to the Jin man in the stupid hat explain the situation:

“…Four inspectors were killed. Around fifty of the remaining Wen Sect prisoners escaped. After Wei Wuxian led them away on horseback, they went in the direction of Yiling. It took some time to ascertain their whereabouts, but we now believe they are hiding out in the Burial Mounds. Wei Wuxian has summoned hundreds of fierce corpses to patrol the base of the mountain. Our people still can’t get any further.”

Tense silence filled the Pageant Hall until he added, “There are even rumors he has summoned the resentful spirit of Cangse Sanren to protect them.”

Murmurs of surprise and outrage broke out around the room. Cangse Sanren felt her own eyebrows raise, and her little paperman glanced across the room at the Jin asshole from the other night. Surely, he knew he had fought a living person. Who had come up with this wild tale? What was its purpose? It seemed to only be riling up the crowd even more.

She caught fragments of the whispers rising from the gathered sect leaders below her; alarm, outrage, and sanctimoniousness threaded through the hushed words.

“I knew it.”

“It would’ve been like this sooner or later.”

“Let’s see how they intend to deal with this.”

Cangse Sanren’s paperman turned back towards the Jiang delegation. Sect Leader Baby Jiang’s face was clouded, and dark circles underlined his eyes. He looked exhausted. He had only two male disciples behind him, and no one at his side. Where was Jiang Yanli? The Lan and Nie sect leaders had their siblings with them, supporting them. Sect Leader Lan even had his uncle beside him. Having lost so much already, Fengmian’s children should at least be able to lean on each other. Surely, this concerned Jiang Yanli, too, if they had grown up so close to Wei Ying. Why did he look so alone?

The set of his chin looked like grim determination, as if he already suspected the fates were against him but refused to back down.

The room quieted as Jin Guangshan waved a hand lazily and began to speak. “Sect Leader Jiang, at first, for your sake, the Lanling Jin Sect didn’t intend to say anything. However, some of these inspectors weren’t from the Jin Sect. There were a few from other sects as well. This makes it…” His expression was a dramatic approximation of an apology.

Cangse Sanren would have snorted, had she not been currently inhabiting a paperman. They said four inspectors were killed; no more than three other sects could have been involved, and yet, at least 50 sects were represented in the hall. Jin Guangshan was still full of shit. Cangse Sanren just didn’t know what his angle was yet.

Sect Leader Baby Jiang’s brows were knitted. He rubbed the vein that throbbed at his temple and soundlessly took in a deep breath. He stood and bowed to the room. “…I apologize to all of the Sect Leaders on Wei Wuxian’s behalf. His actions were indeed a bit excessive, and the Yunmeng Jiang will compensate however we can.”

Saying even that much looked like it pained him greatly. Cangse Sanren had a feeling he was not a man accustomed to apologizing. He looked exhausted and agitated, like he would pay big money for the chance to whip someone with Zidian right now in lieu of participating in Jin Guangshan’s charade. Still, she was proud of him, for managing to say all the right things and set his personal feelings aside for the moment. He was handling this as well as anyone could expect.

But Sect Leader Baby Jiang wasn’t finished. “I’m afraid you all don’t know the full story. The Wen cultivator whom Wei Wuxian wanted to save was called Wen Ning. We owe him and his sister Wen Qing gratitude for their help during the Sunshot Campaign.”

So, the situation was more complicated than it first appeared. If these Wen siblings had aided Wei Ying and the Yunmeng Jiang somehow, that explained why her son was protecting them. Certainly, they deserved a fair hearing, at least, before being thrown back into a prison camp. So many of the sects in this room espoused justice as a core value - surely one of them would recognize this and speak up?

Nie Mingjue scowled. “You owe them gratitude? Aren’t the Qishan Wen Sect the murderers who massacred the Jiang Sect?”

Cangse Sanren was concerned at the way Sect Leader Baby Jiang bristled at it, looking as if hate was sprouting within him. She couldn’t blame him for hating everyone in this room – she did not have high hopes for the outcome of this meeting either – but she hoped he wasn’t hating her son as well…even if it would be understandable to be pissed at an insubordinate disciple taking matters into his own hands and causing a lethal diplomatic incident. 

At this point, the crowd had broken out into a rowdy discussion of the merits or crimes of this Wen Qing woman. The Lan and Jiang sect leaders seemed to try to give her a lukewarm defense, but they were quickly drowned out.

Then Sect Leader Nie offered an impassioned argument that even if Wen Qing and Wen Ning did not fight in the war themselves, since they were silent and did not stop Wen Ruohan’s war crimes, they would still be considered cold watchers and were therefore guilty. By his measure, their silence enabled the murder of thousands. After this, more minor sect leaders piled on and the crowd boiled over, surging and chattering in their blatant animosity.

Jin Guangshan clearly wanted to talk and looked displeased at the ruckus that was preventing him. The young Jin man in the stupid hat glanced at his Sect Leader, then raised his voice at once. “Everyone, please calm down. This isn’t the focus of what we’re discussing today.” As he spoke, he signaled to the servants at the wings to carry out plates of what looked like chilled slices of fruits and serve them to the various cultivators. The people’s attention was quickly diverted, and Pageant Hall quieted down.

Clever, distract them with snacks, mused Cangse Sanren. His hat may be exceptionally dumb, but this guy knows how to play a crowd.

She regretted, however, that his clever control over the room now gave Jin Guangshan the opportunity to speak. “Sect Leader Jiang, this was supposed to be an internal matter of your sect. It wouldn’t have been appropriate for me to barge in. But now that things are like this, I’ll have to caution you on the topic of Wei Ying.”

Cangse Sanren scoffed. He openly admitted he was out of line, but went on with his nonsense anyway, unchallenged.  And how dare he call her son by his personal name. Even if Wei Ying weren’t the head disciple of the Yunmeng Jiang and a war hero to boot, his status as Cangse Sanren’s son demanded the respect of using his courtesy name. Jin Guangshan evidently remained as graceless as ever.

But Sect Leader Baby Jiang only said, “Sect Leader Jin, go ahead.” Cangse Sanren sighed. The poor baby was so young, and he was caught here with so many judging eyes on him. Jiang Fengmian would not have put up with Jin Guangshan’s interference into Yunmeng Jiang business, but he was used to speaking as an equal to Jin Guangshan. Long used to dismissing the man’s bullshit.

Poor Sect Leader Baby Jiang seemed reluctant to offend his senior, even if they should have been of equal status as major sect leaders. He was probably trying to be diplomatic. He didn’t have enough experience to know Jin Guangshan was currently trying to pull him a few steps further into quicksand; if he didn’t back out soon, it would only become more difficult to extricate himself from this mess.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” Jin Guangshan said with a tone that grated on Cangse Sanren’s nerves. “Wei Ying is your right-hand man. You value him greatly. All of us know this. But it’s hard to tell, for his part, whether he actually respects you. In any case, in all the years I’ve been a sect leader, I’ve never seen the subordinate of any sect dare to be so arrogant.”

She glanced again at Sect Leader Baby Jiang. His face darkened more as Jin Guangshan’s word vomit continued.

“…Have you heard what they say outside? Things like how during the Sunshot Campaign the victories of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect were all because of Wei Wuxian alone – what nonsense!”

“Indeed!” chimed in a particularly obnoxious minor sect leader. “Sect Leader Jin asked Wei Ying to hand in the Stygian Tiger Seal out of kindness.”

Hm? What was this now? Paperman Cangse Sanren turned towards the speaker, not wanting to miss any details of this development. The minor sect leader continued, “Sect Leader Jin is afraid that Wei Wuxian can’t control it well, which may lead to a disaster. Yet Wei gauged the heart of a gentleman with his cynical measure! Does he think that everyone covets his spiritual tool?”

Cangse Sanren translated this new information in her head: Jin Guangshan used bullshit pretenses to attempt to seize a powerful spiritual tool he absolutely coveted, and Wei Ying publicly called out his bullshit. She was hit with a burst of pride for her son. Were they afraid he would so brazenly call out their bullshit, too? Or were their fears even deeper than that?

A tiger seal controlled armies. What army could Wei Ying have behind him? What sort of army could a Stygian tiger seal call forth? Cangse Sanren suppressed a shiver. She had a feeling she suddenly had an explanation for the horde of fierce corpses guarding the path to the Burial Mounds – and maybe for the other sect leaders’ unease.

But Jin Guangshan immediately held up a hand to quiet the room. “No need to bring that up again. This Wei Wuxian, it’s okay for him to have suspected me of desiring his spiritual tool, but he is a member of the Jiang Sect and was helped by the Jiang Family...”

Cangse Sanren huffed a short breath out her nose. She couldn’t take much more of this. Sect Leader Jin was clearly talking out both sides of his mouth, yet no one in the room seemed the least bit inclined to stop him. The other leaders of major sects were much younger and showed him the usual deference towards the older generation. The others his age led much smaller sects. This left Jin Guangshan to act like he was king over them all. The longer Cangse Sanren watched, the more incredulous she became. How had the past fifteen years left the world in such a state, a circus to be ruled over by a clown?

Jin Guangshan was still rambling. “… On such a grand occasion as the Flower Banquet, he dared throw a fit right in front of you, leaving however he pleased. Behind your back, he even dared tell other people he would never take Jiang-zongzhu seriously.  Everyone here heard it!”

A wave of nods and murmurs of agreement circled the room – until a lone voice rang out, cold and firm.

“No.”

Cangse Sanren’s eyes had still been on Lan Qiren, but they darted now to his younger nephew, who was staring at Sect Leader Jin with danger in his eyes.

Sichun’s youngest son sat with a rigidly straight back, and Cangse Sanren shivered at the coldness of his face. When he spoke, his voice held the still, smooth steadiness of a lake in deep-freeze. “I did not hear Wei Ying say this. Nor have I ever heard him express any disrespect towards Jiang-zongzhu .”

His words hung in the air, the Pageant Hall stunned into silence, that someone had dared to call out Jin Guangshan on his obvious lies in front of all the leaders of the cultivation world. Jin Guangshan seemed too startled by the interruption to continue, or even to be irritated. Even the young Lan’s brother and uncle looked shocked that he had spoken.

Somehow, Cangse Sanren was not surprised that the Jin man in the stupid hat was the one to jump in and bail out his floundering sect leader. He exclaimed, “Really? That day, Wei-gongzi burst into Jinlintai with such force.  He was so aggressive, and he said so many things, one more shocking than the next. Perhaps he said a few things that were along those lines. I can’t remember clearly.”

Cangse Sanren happened to glance at Sect Leader Nie just then, and saw his scowl distinctly deepen. Ah. So the younger Jin was also lying, and at least some of the sect leaders knew it. But however much Sect Leader Nie apparently disapproved of the Jin fabrications, he sat silent, and let them fester in the fetid heat of the worked up crowd. Cangse Sanren shook her little paper head in disappointment with the young Nie man.

“Right! He’s always arrogant and often says careless, inflammatory words.”

A minor sect leader who appeared to be wearing knock-off Lan robes chimed in from the back row. “We all know that Second Young Master Lan and Wei Ying are close friends. I heard that if Lan-er-gongzi didn’t free him on purpose in the Qiongqi Path that day, Wei Ying couldn’t have fled so easily.”

"Sect Leader Su is right!" said another, "I also heard that."

The room fell back into confusion and renewed slander against her son, but Cangse Sanren let the ruckus wash over her as she turned back to study Sichun’s younger son.

The cold young man had also spoken the name ‘Wei Ying’, but his lips infused the personal name with respect. Besides, no Lan disciple would be caught dead speaking with discourtesy, no matter how they felt about the one named.  What sort of relationship did this young man have with Wei Ying?  

Cangse Sanren burned with curiosity, even as she was filled with relief that Wei Ying had an ally here; there was at least one person willing to stand up to Jin Guangshan and his interminable lies. And something about the thought that Sichun’s son was apparently the one closest to Wei Ying warmed her all the way through.

Sichun would be so proud of him, she thought. Her son, the only one with the moral clarity and courage to stand up to this mob.

Or was he?

Just as the Jin asshole from the other night was again deriding Wei Ying and accusing him of “killing indiscriminately those from our side just because of a few Wen-dogs,” another careful voice now interjected.

“It’s not killing indiscriminately, though, is it?”

Cangse Sanren followed the voice and found a young woman with a round, fair face, in the gold outer robe of the Jin.

Cangse Sanren frowned, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Surely this Jin woman wasn’t about to say anything good?

Her out-of-place comment immediately became the target of the other cultivators nearby, “What do you mean by that exactly?!”

The young woman’s eyes were wide, and she had the nervous look of a fawn encountering a pack of wolves. Her voice was even more careful as she said, “No…I don’t mean anything more. There’s no need to be so agitated, everyone. I just feel that the words ‘killing indiscriminately’ are not accurate.”

The Jin asshole spat back, “How is it inaccurate? Wei Wuxian has been killing indiscriminately ever since the Sunshot Campaign. Can you disprove this?” His tone clearly demanded that she shut up and stop embarrassing her sect.

But still the woman tried to protest, meeting his eyes and those of the rest of the room. “The Sunshot Campaign is a battlefield! All of you were also fighting there. In the battlefield, would it mean everyone is killing indiscriminately? Let’s just focus on the matter at hand. If the inspectors really abused the prisoners and killed Wen Ning, then going after them isn’t indiscriminate killing, but rather revenge.”

Cangse Sanren thought she had spoken well, her logic clear and undeniable, despite the pressure being put on her in front of everyone. But the crowd disagreed.

A flurry of mocking and raging responses flew back at her, including those saying there was no way to know if they did abuse the prisoners because there weren’t any other witnesses – and the inspectors who lived told a very different story.

“Of course, the inspectors aren’t going to incriminate themselves by admitting they abused the prisoners and murdered Wen Ning! They would be motivated to insist he fell off the cliff on his own, no matter what the truth was…” The Jin woman was looking more frustrated now, but also incredulous at the apparently deliberate denseness of the crowd.

Finally, someone had pointed out the obvious, but there was not room for truth or logic among the angry, resentful mob. The room turned on her with vicious, terrifying speed. Suddenly they were not just blood-thirsty, but disgustingly sexist, twisting her words to use her gender as a weapon against her. It made no sense, and Cangse Sanren suspected many in the room were well aware – but again, none of them made any move to stop it.

She looked again at the Lan delegation. Sect Leader Lan and Lan Qiren were carefully not looking at the young woman who had so suddenly become chum in the water. Sect Leader Lan had a small crease of concern in his lovely brow, but Lan Qiren looked like he was busy reciting all 3,000 Gusu Lan Sect rules in his head. Was he just going to let this woman be torn apart for her honesty? Did he intend to let Jin Guangshan carry on with his obvious lies forever? The Lan Qiren she had known would never have let such poisonous falsehoods spill unaddressed around him. Did he think he could pretend he was not here, that his silence could prevent him from being tainted by this spectacle of garbage?

Cangse Sanren shook her head, the disappointment thick in her throat. The Lans choosing to keep their mouths shut now was the easiest thing of all: to keep their righteous opinions on the others’ poor morals to themselves, berating the undisciplined behavior they witnessed only in their own minds. By simply staying silent, they could tell themselves they had not contributed to the disaster unfolding, pat themselves on the back for being above the rabble.

Only the younger nephew paid close attention to the torment the young woman was enduring, and his light eyes sparked dangerously.

Cangse Sanren herself was biting her tongue so hard she now tasted iron.

This ‘meeting’ had devolved far enough. It was clear now the hunger of the mob was insatiable; they were determined to have Wei Ying’s head. The youngest in the room seemed to be the only ones with enough sense and courage to speak the truth, and they’d been immediately, ruthlessly beaten down. It was time one of their seniors backed them up.

The paperman flew back through an open window, down the corridor, and back into her own open palm. Cangse Sanren's eyes blinked open as her consciousness transitioned back into her own body.

She sat up abruptly.

“Woah, easy there.” Her husband held her shoulders gently.

“We don’t have time,” Cangse Sanren said, standing and tossing her sword down, where it hovered near her feet. She stepped onto it as she said, “These idiots are trying to crucify my son. They’ll have to get through me first.”

As her words sunk in, Wei Changze’s easygoing face hardened into what she realized was anger. She had never seen the expression on him before. It scared her and comforted her at the same time. It looked wrong on his face, distorted him into something he was not – but she was not alone. Was there anything more important than the security of knowing you weren’t alone in the world? The certainty that someone you trusted was watching your back?

“Let’s go then,” said her perfect husband.

Side by side riding their swords, they set off towards Pageant Hall. They flew by several startled servants and Jin cultivators. A few shouted, but no one was foolish enough to try to stop them.

When they pulled up short before the huge, gilded doors of Pageant Hall, the guards stationed there looked at them in alarm and pulled their swords. “What is the meaning of this?” one snarled.

Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze dismounted and called their weapons back to their hands, sheathing them. She would fight if she needed to, but there was a meeting of the world’s leading cultivators inside that room, and she was determined to claim her proper place and speak her piece.

Instead of attacking, she grabbed a handful of talismans from her sleeve and flung them towards the closed doors.

Chaos erupted from the palm of her hand.

Chapter Text

A week ago, Jin Zixuan’s biggest problem was his shitty cousin picking a fight with Jiang Yanli’s shidi during the Phoenix Mountain crowd hunt. Or, well, didi, she called him. She had made abundantly clear that Wei Wuxian was her family, that any insult to Wei Wuxian she would take personally, as an insult to herself and to the Yunmeng Jiang Sect. Anyone could see her brothers were the center of her world.

After that, Jin Zixuan understood he would never stand a chance with Jiang Yanli until he could mend things with her brothers. At the very least, he had to achieve some level of grudging mutual respect. It hadn’t seemed so impossible – the three men had been through a lot together, especially after the Wen indoctrination and the whole Xuanwu of Slaughter ordeal. Surely, he had thought, they could find enough common ground to tolerate each other for Jiang Yanli’s sake?

He had believed so until today, as he spent the past hour listening to his father and cousin try to rouse the entire cultivation world into a manhunt to kill Wei Wuxian. To kill Jiang Yanli’s brother.

Jin Zixuan distantly wondered if the rushing noise in his head was the sound of all his dreams swirling down the drain at once. No matter what happened next, Jiang Yanli would never speak to him again. He had embarrassed himself in front of everyone at Phoenix Mountain for nothing.

His attention suddenly snapped back to the room at the sound of MianMian’s voice. Why was she getting involved? Surely, she could read the tea leaves in the room at least as well as Jin Zixuan could. What point could there be in speaking out now?

He watched in speechless horror as the room turned on her, a pack of wolves scenting blood. He glanced at his father who was looking vaguely bored, and then irritated when MianMian tried to defend herself. He would be angry if Jin Zixuan interfered.

Not that he had any idea what he could say if he tried. It seemed clear no argument could withstand such a mob.

“Fine! Your voices are louder! Fine! You’re the rational ones!”

Jin Zixuan watched in disbelief as MianMian shed her crested robes and threw them down. MianMian’s eyes caught his for a moment, and he felt his mouth open as if to speak, and he leaned forward, hands on the table, as if to stand – but then he froze. At a sound from his father, his gaze swung over, and he saw his father glaring at him, silently demanding that he keep his seat and keep his mouth shut. Heart pounding, he obeyed.

Things had already gone this far. Even if he disobeyed and said something, it wouldn’t change anything. It wasn’t like in the Xuanwu’s cave, he reasoned. No one was threatening to kill her. She was walking out of here of her own free will. Leaving Jin Zixuan behind.

He watched MianMian’s back, unfamiliar without her Sparks-Amidst-Snow robes, as she walked tall and strong from the hall. He wondered what it would be like to have such courage, to stand up against not only his enemies, but his friends.

He wondered if MianMian would ever forgive him. Would he ever see her again?

Jin Zixuan had sensed his chances with Jiang Yanli dimming as soon as Wei Wuxian interrupted the banquet two days ago to threaten the gathered guests and demand the location of Wen Ning. But the sudden loss of his best friend, too…this he had not seen coming. He felt numb, unable to process what had happened. He barely heard the voices around him; they seemed distant and meaningless. It all seemed so excruciatingly meaningless. What was this all for?

A small explosion jolted him from his numbness as a massive gust of wind burst open the hall doors and blew into the room, toppling tables and cultivators. Food and wine flew everywhere. The banners hanging from the ceiling snapped and billowed.

Jin Zixuan held his arms in front of his face to guard against airborne debris, though his long hair and robes were flying wildly and made it difficult to see. He was distressed when he got a glimpse of curls of green flame lacing the gale-force winds, likely indicating resistance to sword glares. A flurry of sparks spun off into every corner of the room, darting around like angry hornets, stirred even crazier by the wind.

It was as if someone had set off a handful of assorted distraction talismans at once – including at least half a dozen wind talismans. Even with hair in his eyes, it took only a moment of assessing through the chaos to determine none of them had been truly dangerous.

He could think of only one person who would do something so bizarre and reckless – but Wei Wuxian was supposed to be staked out in the Burial Mounds.

And then one final talisman came in alone, soaring down the full length of the room to smack Jin Guangyao in the forehead, just under the rim of his beloved hat. He looked startled, and then he collapsed on the dais.

“A-Yao!”

Beside Jin Zixuan, Lan Xichen leapt to his feet, but before he could run over to Jin Guangyao, they heard a strange nasal sound from his prone body.

A snore, Jin Zixuan realized.

“He’s asleep,” he said, by now also on his feet. Lan Xichen stared at Jin Guangyao’s unconscious body, as confused as Jin Zixuan.

Amidst the cacophony of windblown furniture and shrieking sect leaders, Jin Zixuan heard a strangled voice nearby carry over all of it: “C-Cangse Sanren!”

Jin Zixuan turned and saw it was Lan Qiren who had spoken, looking pale and aghast as if he had seen a ghost. Maybe he had - wasn't that the name of the ghoul they had said Wei Wuxian summoned to protect him? The name clearly meant more to Old Man Lan than it did to Jin Zixuan.

Pageant Hall was in disarray, tables blown over, food and drink strewn across the floor, and confused cultivators staggering to their feet. The wind talismans had blown everyone nearest the door out of the way, leaving Jin Zixuan a clear line of sight to where two newcomers were walking calmly down the center aisle, sheathed swords in hand, as though they owned the place. As if they had not just sent the room into utter turmoil with magical winds and possibly hornets.

Through the blowing debris, he watched them come. He didn’t recognize them, but they made no immediate move to attack, so he glanced at his father for direction.

Jin Guangshan was struggling to right himself where the wind had knocked him down and blown his table over on top of him. He stared at the woman striding down the aisle before him, his eyes appearing strangely crazed.

“But you’re dead,” Jin Guangshan said, his breathless voice somehow still carrying across the pandemonium of the room.  Jin Zixuan had never seen such an expression on his face before, and it made the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

At the sound of Jin Guangshan’s voice, everyone stopped still and looked. As the winds dissipated, Jin Zixuan caught some of the whispers breaking out around him. He heard enough to piece together with his previous knowledge of legendary cultivators and realized suddenly what was happening.

If that was Cangse Sanren, disciple of the immortal Baoshan Sanren, then…Wei Wuxian’s parents were standing in the middle of this room of chaos, staring down Jin Zixuan’s father in cold fury.

Cangse Sanren gripped her sword tightly. Jin Zixuan kept his eyes on that sword. If she unsheathed it here, violence would be inevitable.

“I’m not dead,” she said. “And I’m not a ghost. And I am offended I have been accused of such.” At this she sent a pointed glare to Jin Zixun, who flinched back.

No one even knew Cangse Sanren was alive – how had his idiot cousin managed to offend the legendary cultivator already?

Jin Guangshan, finally back on his feet, scowled at her. “Of course, you would feel the need to make such an entrance.”

“What other way is there to enter a room full of jackals?” she retorted.

Jin Guangshan sneered at her. “This is a private gathering. If you want to speak with me, you’ll need to make an appointment.” At his glance, several Jin guards stepped forward around him, ready to escort the intruders out of Jinlintai.

Cangse Sanren blatantly ignored them as she glared at the sect leaders around the room. They stared back at her with varied expressions: shock, confusion, indignation…fear. Beside her, her husband also looked around the room, but his eyes seemed to flick from sword hands, to exits, to finally settle on the guards still waiting for a sign from their sect leader. Jin Guangshan did not give it; he was staring at the newcomers with narrowed eyes, as if still calculating how to spin this to his advantage.

When Cangse Sanren spoke again, her voice carried farther than Jin Zixuan would have expected for such a small woman, echoing with authority in the far corners of the room. “I expect this kind of nonsense from the Jin. But the rest of you ought to be ashamed of yourselves!”

Her eyes landed on Nie Mingjue, and Jin Zixuan saw his shoulders straighten minutely as Baxia shook in its sheath on his back. The man towered over her, a mass of brawn and steel, alarm and outrage twisting his face into a terrifying glare.

Cangse Sanren glared back up at him, standing her ground as she put her hands on her hips. “Sect Leader Nie, what would your mother think of this?”

Sect Leader Nie pulled back, his scowl dropping for a moment in confused surprise. The rest of the room went silent. Even Jin Guangshan blinked, too startled to yell at her.

“Look at you,” scolded the small woman as she practically vibrated with righteous fury. “Taking part in this mob vengeance! How can you sit there and go along with this plan to truly kill indiscriminately – as you have seen no evidence of individual guilt beyond bearing the wrong name? I may not have been close to Xia Dong, but I know for a fact she raised you better than this. Have you let your sect stray so far that the Qinghe Nie no longer stand for justice?”

Jin Zixuan watched, astonished, as her chastisement landed, and Nie Mingjue’s face flew through shock and anger into chagrin. Baxia stilled in her sheath, and Nie Mingjue looked at the floor.

“Guards- ” Jin Guangshan chose that moment to try to cut in, but Cangse Sanren didn’t give him a chance. Jin Zixuan leapt forward, sword in hand, as he saw another talisman fly from her hand, but he was caught behind fallen tables and too slow to stop it. The talisman hit his father in the forehead, and he slumped forward.

Jin Zixuan was at his side in a moment. Jin Guangshan’s eyes were closed, but his pulse was strong. Then Jin Zixuan distinctly heard a soft snore.

“He’s asleep,” said Jin Zixuan for the second time that day, still bewildered at this turn of events as he stood over his sleeping father and brother on the palatial dais of Jinlintai’s Pageant Hall.

Eyes wide in confusion and anger, Jin Zixuan turned towards Cangse Sanren, mouth opening to say…something in defense of his father. He could feel the eyes of the guards around him, waiting for his command. But before any words had formed, the woman had turned toward the Lan Sect.

“And you!” cried Cangse Sanren with exaggerated exasperation. “Qiren, what even is the point of that Silencing Spell of yours, if you won’t use it to shut up such a poisonous, lying windbag?" She gestured animatedly towards Jin Guangshan's sleeping form. "You’re just going to let him spew his nonsense until he’s incited a riot? Is that really where your precious rules have led you? I never imagined I would see the day when you bent over to kiss Jin Guangshan’s hairy ass.”

A collective gasp sounded throughout the room, but Cangse Sanren paid it no attention as she continued.

“What has happened to you over these years? Has a lifetime of dealing with Qingheng-Jun really left you so jaded? If not for your younger nephew, I would think ‘Be Righteous’ nothing but a perverse joke. I should have known Sichun’s son would turn out to be the only Lan who isn’t a hypocrite.”

The nephew in question, Jin Zixuan saw, was now missing from the hall. When had he left? What else had Jin Zixuan failed to notice?

Lan Xichen’s eyes had gone wide, his face sickly pale.

Cangse Sanren looked the Lan sect leader in the eye as she added tartly, “One of her sons, anyway.” Lan Xichen drew in a sharp breath and his eyes glistened, but he said nothing.

“And you.” She turned next to Jiang Wanyin. She wasn’t shouting anymore, but her voice was steady and firm. “You are the son of the Violet Spider. She would be turning in her grave to know you let the likes of Jin Guangshan walk all over you like this. Your first responsibility is always to the wellbeing of those under your authority. You protect what’s yours.”

Jiang Wanyin looked distraught, in a way Jin Zixuan had not seen since the day they left Wei Wuxian behind in the Xuanwu cave. Even during the war, Jiang Wanyin had always maintained an unyielding glare. Jin Zixuan looked away, uncomfortable at seeing Sandu Shengshou so suddenly vulnerable.

Cangse Sanren’s voice softened as she continued, “I know you’ve been set up to be at a disadvantage, and Sect Leader Jin is unscrupulous enough to use your youth against you. And none of this is fair. But you cannot sit silently and watch as a mob of greedy, power-hungry, supercilious old men drag your disciple’s name through the mud, and by extension, the good name of the Yunmeng Jiang! Sect Leader Jiang, there are some things, some people that you shouldn’t put up with.”

Jin Zixuan noticed her echo of his father’s earlier words. He noticed, too, that her words had the ring of authenticity to them, as his father’s so seldom did.

Then Cangse Sanren’s piercing eyes landed on him, and Jin Zixuan took an instinctive step back, even as he smoothed out his face into impassive pride. Childish defensiveness shot through him, wondering what he had done to deserve her imminent scolding.

He couldn’t read Cangse Sanren’s expression, though she sounded tired when she spoke. “Jin-gongzi, you are among the few present who are lucky enough to still have a mother living, so you can hear from her directly about how you’ve been an idiot. I know it’s difficult, living with such a father. But surely there is something in this world you care about more than his opinion.”

She might as well have punched him in the gut, the way the wind was suddenly knocked out of him. Jin Zixuan blinked as she turned around, his face heating in shame. Had he somehow been wrong all this time? Was filial piety and obedience to his sect leader not his highest duty?

The memory of the Xuanwu cave flashed through his mind again. He had gone against his father to lead Jin cultivators back with Jiang Wanyin to rescue Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. He had not hesitated to do so then – his honor had demanded it. Their courage and sacrifice had allowed him to live.

What was the honorable path now? (Was there really such a thing as an honorable path?)

Cangse Sanren swept her eyes across the rows of minor sect leaders, many of whom flinched away from her gaze. As she turned, her husband shifted subtly in silent orbit around her, always watching the part of the room where her back was turned.

Sect Leader Yao opened his mouth like he was about to speak, but Cangse Sanren glared him down and he closed it again. Jin Zixuan thought he caught a gleam of satisfaction in her eye at that.

“As for the rest of you,” Cangse Sanren announced to the room at large, “I may not personally know your mothers, but I know they would all be ashamed of your abhorrent behavior here today. A bunch of spineless, senseless lemmings you are, following Jin Guangshan right over the edge of a cliff after the promise of power and recognition. You’re really willing to let him use you like this? You’re really so eager to kowtow before such a man? Have you no pride? No honor at all? What manner of men are you? What was the purpose of the Sunshot Campaign, if you’re going to just turn around and crown a different clown lord over the cultivation world?

“And when one young woman was brave enough to speak some sense amid this circus, you all had the gall to ridicule her! How dare you! Not one of you is fit to kiss the bottom of her shoe. She made the right decision, leaving behind a sect of such disgrace.”

She turned back to Jin Zixuan, pointing at him with her sheathed sword. “Keep your people away from my son. If anyone tries to harm him, gods help me, I’ll come after every motherloving last one of you. If you doubt me, you can ask Lan Qiren if I ever make idle threats.”

Jin Zixuan didn’t dare take his eyes off Cangse Sanren, though Lan Qiren seemed to get even paler in his peripheral vision.

“Speaking of idle threats,” she turned towards Jin Zixun, pointing her sheathed sword in his direction now, and Jin Zixuan felt a foolish surge of relief that she’d taken her attention off him.

“Dear me,” she said drily. “I seem to have gotten in your way again. If you care to fulfill your promise, I’ll be at the Yiling Burial Mounds. Waiting for you. But you’d best remember your quarrel is with me and leave my son out of it.”

Jin Zixun looked furious and scared – and as if there was a non-zero chance he was soiling himself at this very moment.

Cangse Sanren looked back over her shoulder at Jin Guangshan, still slumped over asleep in his elaborately gilded throne.

“Since the honorable Sect Leader Jin slept through these proceedings, I will give him a reminder to leave me and mine alone.”

The room watched her in tense anticipation, which broke into gasps when she threw twin talismans at Jin Guangshan. Jin Zixuan was faster this time, slashing an arc of his sword glare across its path – but one of the talismans was again the sword glare-blocking light, and they flew straight through, unhindered by his shield of spiritual energy. The second talisman struck Jin Guangshan on the chin with what looked like a splash of water. As the liquid drained from his face, his stately beard washed away with it, leaving him as cleanshaven as his son.

Jin Zixuan blinked and turned back towards this inexplicable woman, defensive stance set and naked sword in hand. But she was already turning towards the door, a little smirk tucked into the corner of her mouth beneath her still-flaming eyes.

From the corner of his eye, Jin Zixuan saw Lan Qiren’s hand fly up protectively over his own beard.

And then Cangse Sanren and her wordless husband were gone, leaving the room to erupt into chaos once again in their wake.

Jin Zixuan heard a small noise behind him and turned to see his father slowly sitting up and rubbing his face; it seemed the splash of water had awoken him.

“Father, are you alright?”

“Of course,” Jin Guangshan snapped, scowling. “Where’s the witch?”

“Gone.”

Nearby, Lan Xichen was now helping Jin Guangyao to his feet; the talismans didn’t seem to have done any permanent harm, at least.

Jin Zixuan looked out across the room, surveying the damage. Servants were already hustling to clean up the mess. The guests were unsettled and talking amongst themselves at various levels of affronted or distressed, but no one appeared to be injured.

He noticed Nie Huaisang lean over and whisper something behind his fan to Nie Mingjue, who nodded in return before standing back straight and looking around at the tumultuous crowd.

“Quiet!” Nie Mingjue barked, and the room instantly obeyed. “This issue does not concern the Qinghe Nie, and we want no further part in it. I strongly suggest that any other sects not directly involved should also extricate themselves from the matter now.”

Jin Guangshan sat forward in his throne, frowning. “Now Sect Leader Nie, how can you say that, when Wei Wuxian still wields the Stygian Tiger Seal and at this moment is amassing an army of the undead around him in the Burial Mounds? We’ve all seen what he’s capable of during the Sunshot Campaign. Now that he’s turned against us, he can do the same to us. We are all at risk. It’s just not right to say this does not concern you.”

Nie Mingjue’s eyes narrowed at him for a moment, before he turned to Jiang Wanyin. “Do you believe your head disciple means to attack any other sects, or otherwise commit violent crimes?”

“No,” replied Jiang Wanyin resolutely. “He has never once attacked someone unprovoked. He will not begin now.”

Jin Zixuan frowned at this. As someone who had been attacked by Wei Wuxian on several occasions, Jin Zixuan did not believe this to be wholly true, unless one applied an extraordinarily loose definition of ‘provoked.’ But he saw no advantage to pointing this out. Now that things seemed to be deescalating, some unreasonable corner of his heart had begun to wonder if maybe there was a way back from this after all.

Nie Mingjue had turned back to Jin Guangshan. “There. You have your answer – don’t provoke him.”

“But who knows how long he will be able to keep the Stygian Tiger Seal under control! It’s dangerous on its own, even if, against all odds, Wei Wuxian harbors no ill intent. One person alone cannot be trusted with such a powerful spiritual tool.”

“He’s a disciple of the Yunmeng Jiang,” said Nie Mingjue bluntly. “Take it up with them.”

Jiang Wanyin was back to looking like Sandu Shengshou; he even seemed taller somehow. His glare had strength behind it now, enough to make some of the minor sects look at him more cautiously. “As Sect Leader Yao pointed out so astutely earlier,” he said, “all sects have their own spiritual tools. This is not a special situation. Yunmeng Jiang is quite capable of attending to our own spiritual tools.”

“Good. That’s that, then,” said Nie Mingjue.

Jiang Wanyin looked now towards Jin Guangyao. “Yunmeng Jiang will offer appropriate restitution and work to resolve this situation peacefully. You said members of other sects were killed at Qiongqi Path. Which sects?”

His hat now straightened and robes smoothed, Jin Guangyao stood tall in his place on the dais step and answered, “One of Pingyang Yao’s disciples was killed, along with one from Laoling Qin.”

Nie Mingjue nodded. “Then there is no reason for any other sects beyond those to remain.” Nie Mingjue turned back to the front of the room, seemingly oblivious to the disgruntled whispers around him. The other sects did not, it seemed, believe that was the end of it.

Nie Mingjue shared a long look with Lan Xichen.

“Sect Leader Nie is correct,” said Lan Xichen, still hovering near Jin Guangyao. “It would be inappropriate for others to meddle in the affairs of the Yunmeng Jiang. As the Gusu Lan are not involved in this issue, we, too, will now take our leave.”

One of the guards from outside the doors had come into the room and was helping right tables and clean up the considerable mess Cangse Sanren had left behind. He looked now at Lan Xichen, and hesitated a moment before saying, “My apologies, Zewu-Jun, but that may not be strictly correct. Hanguang-Jun took off just now with Cangse Sanren, headed towards Yiling.”

Lan Xichen closed his eyes briefly and seemed to give a silent sigh, though he did not look particularly surprised.

Jiang Wanyin’s scowl deepened. “I will go to the Burial Mounds myself and ensure Hanguang-Jun is not at risk.”

“All of the affected sects should go,” added Jin Guangyao. “It seems unlikely Wei Wuxian will be convinced to leave his stronghold now, and we will need to negotiate a settlement.”

“A-Yao,” said Lan Xichen softly, audible to only those standing very close. “If fighting breaks out, Wangji will be in danger of getting caught in a cross-fire.”

“I’ll go!” said Jin Zixuan, eyes widening as he drew the attention of everyone in the room. He had surprised even himself. “…if the Jin sect heir goes, it will be seen as a sign of good faith. I can ensure this is resolved without violence,” he added in a rush as he belatedly thought of an explanation for his eagerness. His true motivation was a bit different: I worked with Jiang Wanyin once before to bail Wei Wuxian out of trouble. Surely if we can do so again, Jiang Yanli might give me a chance?

It was only much later, as he flew towards the Burial Mounds with a half dozen cultivators behind him, that it occurred to Jin Zixuan that nearly every time he had ever spoken to Wei Wuxian directly, violence had been the inevitable outcome.

Chapter Text

Lan Wangji flew swiftly on his sword, Luo Qingyang at his side and Wei Ying's astonishing parents before him, sights set on the Yiling Burial Mounds.

Just hours ago, Lan Wangji had watched through the blown-open doors of Jinlintai’s Pageant Hall as Cangse Sanren tore into the gathered leaders of the cultivation world, one after the other. Lan Wangji had never in his life heard someone dress down Lan Qiren like that, let alone in such…colorful language. Lan Wangji had been watching his Shufu and brother carefully, had seen the moment guilt and remorse had subtly crossed their expressions beneath the shock and outrage. 

On this matter – of Wei Ying and the freed Wen prisoners of war – the righteous path was not clearly marked. Lan Wangji could not trust his family to show him the way through. He had to come to his own decision.

As his mind went over and over all that had happened, it was Nie Mingjue’s words that finally convinced Lan Wangji that Wei Ying alone had discerned the path of justice – though Nie Mingjue believed he had been arguing the opposite.

Nie Mingjue condemned Wen Qing for not preventing Wen Ruohan’s war crimes, for standing coldly by and watching as people died at the hands of an evil man.

Now Wen Ning and countless other prisoners had been murdered; their deaths cried out for justice. Whether they admitted it or not, everyone in that room at Jinlintai knew the inspectors at Qiongqi Path had lied to save their own skins.

And yet not one of the sect leaders took action or said a word to hold the murderers to account or prevent the murder of more powerless prisoners. Had any of the sect leaders seen these camps for themselves, seen the prisoners they so sanctimoniously condemned to death from the comfort of their banquet tables?

Lan Wangji had. It had not been enemy soldiers riding out of that labor camp at Qiongqi Path.

When the Jin eventually succeeded in their goals, and all the leaders of the cultivation world stood over the bodies of slain children and innocents, how could they hope to explain themselves? By Nie Mingjue’s measure, those who sat silently watching in the Pageant Hall today were just as guilty as those with bloodied swords. By Nie Mingjue’s judgment, such a crime was deserving of death.

(That Lan Wangji’s own clan sat among those cold watchers was a deep, disorienting ache in his chest he could not examine right now).

Wei Ying, however, did exactly as Nie Mingjue claimed a righteous person should act: he stopped the murderers in their tracks. He intervened to prevent the killing of grandmothers and children and noncombatants, despite knowing what his righteous action could cost him. And now they called for his head.

Hypocrites, the lot of them.

It had not been a hard decision when Cangse Sanren stopped before Luo Qingyang and Lan Wangji on her way out of Jinlintai and asked if they would join her in flying to the Burial Mounds to stand by Wei Ying. Lan Wangji’s heart nearly flew out of his chest at this rare, precious gift: a second chance to do the right thing.

As the four of them landed at the foot of the Burial Mounds, Cangse Sanren turned to them. “I apologize for the lack of courtesies, but I am afraid we are yet pressed for time, as I do not know how long it will take before someone comes after us. We will have to save proper introductions for later. But I heard what each of you said in defense of my son, and you should know you hold my respect and gratitude. Now. How to reach Wei Ying without getting killed by his many defenses…”

With Wei Ying’s inventiveness, any number of traps could lie between them and where the man barricaded himself at the top of the low mountain. Two dangers were immediately visible – the rows of hundreds of fierce corpses standing guard and a shimmering red ward.

The four cultivators cautiously began approaching the stationary fierce corpses, swords drawn and ready. As they neared, the corpses began to shuffle and howl. When they were only a few feet away, the fierce corpses began to attack, launching at the cultivators, tearing at them and trying to bite. The sound of three swords colliding with bone and rotten flesh rang out as they began to fight in earnest.

Three swords, because Lan Wangji was not fighting. Lan Wangji had not been attacked.

“Fall back!” he said, his words ringing out in his Commander’s voice, left over from the war.

The other three disengaged, fell back far enough that the fierce corpses stopped attacking, and then stared at where he stood toe to toe with a silent, unmoving fierce corpse.

“They’re not attacking you,” said Luo Qingyang.

“They know you,” assessed Cangse Sanren. “Somehow, Wei Ying has told them you are not an enemy.”

Lan Wangji’s eyes drifted to the top of the hill, where eerie fog obscured the gray trees, wishing he were already by Wei Ying’s side.

Not an enemy. It was more than he had dared to hope for. The understanding that he was the only one Wei Ying would not attack, that at least in this one way, he was special to Wei Ying, lifted his hope like a warm paper lantern through his chest.

“Try the ward,” Cangse Sanren suggested next.

Lan Wangji walked through the rows of strangely still corpses and touched the tip of Bichen to the ward – it went right through, as if there were nothing but air. He took a breath and stepped forward, passing through the ward with no more than the feeling of static brushing over his skin.

He turned and looked back at the rest of their little party, his view now distorted by the wavy red light. Cangse Sanren was looking at him with a strange weight to her gaze, but all she said was, “Go, tell him what’s happened, and that he’s not alone. We’ll wait for you here.”

With a nod, Lan Wangji turned to begin his trek through the ominous forest, trusting that Wei Ying would continue to protect him from whatever haunts may linger, guarding the path.

After he walked for a long time, human voices finally came from ahead of him.

A few round stumps were beside the mountain path, a large one, like a table, and a few smaller ones, like chairs. A red-clothed woman sat with Wei Ying on the stumps. A man who seemed to be honest and simple was turning over the soil of the field nearby.

Wei Ying was shaking his leg. “How about potatoes?”

The woman’s tone was resolute, “Radishes. Radishes are easy to grow. They don’t die as often. Potatoes are hard to look after.”

Wei Ying made a pouting face. “Radishes are disgusting.”

“Resiliency is essential,” said Lan Wangji as he walked up to them. “Palatability is not.”

They finally turned toward him. They didn’t look surprised, but Wei Ying’s eyes seemed to light up as they fell on him. Lan Wangji’s heart skipped at the sight. Perhaps he would not be as unwelcome as he feared.

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying’s eyes met his, but then skittered away again. “I didn’t expect you to be the one to come. Is Jiang Cheng with you? Did you two come searching for me together again, like you did last time I ended up stuck in this place?”

Lan Wangji shook his head, and decidedly did not think about the last time Wei Ying was here.

“Oh.” He seemed disappointed, but Lan Wangji was glad Jiang Wanyin was not here. The man seemed made of sharp angles and small explosions, and this situation was too delicate.

Wei Ying held his hands behind his back, a posture of feigned relaxation. Lan Wangji could still feel the tension rising off him, and he gripped Bichen’s hilt tighter. Wei Ying’s distrust felt like sandpaper under his skin. Though his chest felt tight, Lan Wangji reminded himself that Wei Ying had let him through the wards. There was still hope.

“What are you doing here, Lan Zhan? It isn’t to discuss the merits of vegetables.”

“No.”

A muscle jerked in Wei Ying’s jaw as he clenched his teeth. “Didn’t we say everything there was to say at Qiongqi Path? Or are you here to finish things? Were you the one to come because I said I would accept execution if it came by your hand?”

“No,” Lan Wangji bit out the word with unrestrained vehemence.

“Oh,” Wei Ying said again, this time sounding surprised. Their eyes met again, and this time Wei Ying did not look away.

From the corner of his eye, Lan Wangji saw the woman in red quietly take her leave, and he was left alone with Wei Ying.

Wei Ying sighed. “Jiang Cheng… Are the other sects giving him a hard time because of me?”

“Yes.”

“I see. And what do they want?”

“They claim to want an explanation.”

“An explanation? We’re even already. The inspectors beat Wen Ning to death; Wen Ning became a fierce corpse and killed them. A tooth for a tooth, a life for a life – all that is over.”

“Mn. Over.” Lan Wangji nodded once, then gave a pointed look around him. “And yet, you are here. Planting crops in a mountain of corpses.”

“You think they would be satisfied, with an explanation?”

“No,” he replied honestly.

“Neither do I. So, what else could I do, except jail myself here?”

“Find allies.”

Wei Ying scoffed as he crossed his arms. “No one would stick their neck out for the Wen. And when left to choose between siding with me or with Sect Leader Jin and the rest of the cultivation world, who in their right mind would pick me, the hated rogue walking the crooked path?”

“I would.”

“Lan Zhan. Stop. You can’t say that. You shouldn’t even be here. What does Zewu-Jun think about all this?”

“Brother is wrong.”

“That’s not what you said before. You told me not to do this.”

“I was wrong.”

Wei Ying blinked at him, shocked at these rare words from Lan Wangji. Finally, he closed his gaping mouth and said, “Your sect will punish you for this.”

“That is their choice. This is mine.”

“Why?!” Wei Ying was visibly upset now. “Why would you do this? Why are you changing your mind now?”

“Is it so hard to believe I also want to stand with justice and live with no regrets?” replied Lan Wangji, heart aching at Wei Ying’s incredulity.

“But, Lan Zhan,” pleaded Wei Ying as he started gesturing wildly, “Don’t you think you’ll regret this? You told me that night in the rain that I was turning against orthodoxy, that there would be no way back after I made this choice. If my brother were here, he would say I’m doing this because I have a hero complex. He would say what I’m doing now is the height of arrogance, that there is no way to survive this. That the whole world will ensure it’s impossible for me to protect these people.”

“He would be right.” About most of it, anyway.

“If you believe all that, then why would you still try to stand with me? Why would you enter an impossible fight?”

“Wei Ying,” he said, the words full of emotion as he voiced the precious name. Lan Wangji looked into those frantic gray eyes and searched for the words that would make him understand. He needed Wei Ying to believe in him, to trust they were not so different.

Lan Wangji held his eye and finally said softly, with conviction, “Sometimes, to be righteous one must attempt the impossible.”

Wei Ying stared at him, eyes glistening, before a strange, sad smile crossed his face. “Lan Zhan, ah, Lan Zhan. I never would have guessed…” He shook his head and glanced away. “When everyone admired my power and wanted to flatter me, you're the only one who scolded me. But right now, when everyone hates me and wants me to die, you're the only one standing by me.”

“It’s where I should be. You are good, Wei Ying. This I have never doubted.”

“Lan Zhan, you’re going to have to lay off for a while, or my heart isn’t going to be able to take this.”

“But you are wrong.”

“Ah, there it is. About what?”

“I am not the only one.”

Wei Ying raised his brows as he looked at him. “Not the only one standing by me? Who else then, is as crazy as you?”

“They are waiting below.”

“You brought…friends? Here? To the bottom of the Burial Mounds?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, don’t take this the wrong way, but I didn’t think you had friends.”

“Mn. But Wei Ying does.”

“But…but I don’t, though. You said not even Jiang Cheng was here.”

“Wei Ying-,” Lan Wangji started, but his words died on his tongue in the face of Wei Ying’s gaze on him.

“What is it, Lan Zhan?”

“Wei Ying,” he tried again. He had to tell him. It was the most important news he had ever delivered. “Your parents.”

“What about them?”

“Wei Ying. Your parents are alive.”

Wei Ying stared blankly for a moment, his precious face wrinkling in confusion, before his eyes went wide. “Oh,” he said – and collapsed.

Lan Wangji caught him with an arm under his shoulders before he could fall to the ground. Concerned, he scooped Wei Ying up with another arm under his knees, holding him tightly to his chest.

“Wei Ying,” he said helplessly.

After a moment, Wei Ying blinked his eyes open. “Lan Zhan.” He gazed up at him from where he lay in Lan Wangji’s arms, making no effort to move. “I thought it was a dream. Or a trick of the lightning. I saw them, Lan Zhan, the night I came here with the Wen. Wei-gongzi. That’s what he meant. It was my father. They were here, Lan Zhan, at the base of the mountain.” He gazed up at Lan Zhan with wide, glistening eyes, and Lan Wangji was caught in them. Spellbound, and happy to be so. Wei Ying blinked again. “I think my parents held off the Jin for us,” he added.

“Your mother is- a force to be reckoned with.”

Wei Ying grinned. “Ah, so now you see where I get it from, eh, Lan Zhan?”

“Mn.” Lan Wangji let a little smile show, just a quirk of his lip – but it made Wei Ying gasp and grin.

As he was about to speak again, Lan Wangji felt something heavy on his leg. He looked down. A toddler had snuck over to where they were talking quietly and wrapped his arms around Lan Wangji’s leg. Raising his chubby chin, he looked up at him with his dark, round eyes. It was the same child he had seen clinging to Wei Ying on horseback, that awful night in the rain. Lan Wangji stared speechlessly back at him.

Wei Ying started laughing madly, throwing his head back against Lan Zhan’s shoulder. “Hahaha! Lan Zhan, congratulations! He’s taken a liking to you! He hugs the leg of whomever he likes, and he never lets go.”

The child was precious. Lan Wangji was so relieved to see he was unharmed, that he seemed well, despite the horrors he had lived through.

Lan Wangji took an experimental step forward, and sure enough, the child hung on tightly to his leg. He looked back at Wei Ying in his arms. “…The child?”

Wei Ying’s mouth quirked, and he said, “Mine.”

Lan Wangji’s brows twitched, and Wei Ying laughed. “What, don’t you see the resemblance?”

“Mn.”

Wei Ying laughed again, and Lan Wangji’s heart gave a little squeeze. Lan Wangji looked down at the beautiful man smiling in his arms, and the child affectionately hugging his leg, and thought, It’s worth it. Whatever this costs me in the end, it will be worth it.

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian followed Lan Zhan down the path through the Burials Mounds towards the base of the mountain, watching him with wide eyes and wondering when the dream would end. Surely this could not be real. Hanguang-Jun would not visit a place as evil as this, let alone act as if he planned to stay.

How could he appear so calm, when every nerve of Wei Wuxian’s body felt on edge, every muscle pulled tight with uncertainty and unease? He shoved the churning, gaping feeling in his gut down and clutched Chenqing hard, his thumb running back and forth over the smooth bamboo.

Huh.

At least it should have been smooth. He looked down at his flute – the notorious commander of ghosts and demons – to find tiny teeth marks and little grooves etched into the bamboo. Despite himself, he huffed a little laugh, drawing Lan Zhan’s glance.

“Look. A-Yuan turned Chenqing into a chew toy.”

When Lan Zhan’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, Wei Wuxian laughed louder before shrugging. “He woke from a nightmare last night, sobbing, and no one could soothe him. I didn’t have any toys or comfort objects to give him, obviously, so I handed him Chenqing to cuddle.” After all, it was what Wei Wuxian clung to when he was afraid and could not afford to be.

The thought brought the churn of his stomach back to the surface. Too many worries swirled in his mind. Lan Zhan was still watching him closely, so he hid his worries and offered a smile that Lan Zhan seemed to return with a minute crinkle by his eye.

As they walked, Wei Wuxian tried to focus on what was immediate – on what awaited him at the foot of the mountain.  He reached into the recesses of his memories, but could summon so little of his early childhood. He had only the one hazy memory of his mother on a donkey, himself high on his father’s shoulders as they walked beside her, the reins in A-Die's hand. He couldn’t remember their faces or any details – the memory was more feeling than anything else. It was love, safety, laughter, and the bedrock certainty that as long as A-Niang and A-Die were there, everything would always be okay.

Such were the naïve beliefs of a little kid, although the inverse had certainly turned out to be true: without them, nothing was okay. When they left and did not come back…his memories from that time were also mostly feelings. Fear and loneliness and confusion. Hunger. Terror as the dogs chased him.

What awaited him now at the bottom of this mountain?

They were getting close. Just one more bend in the path, and the warded entrance to the Burial Mounds would appear before them. Wei Wuxian’s steps slowed, and he came to a stop without intending to. Lan Zhan looked back over his shoulder, stopping as well. He didn’t say anything, just stood calm and steady at his side, his eyes focused solely on Wei Wuxian.

“What if…” Wei Wuxian swallowed. “What if they aren’t who they say they are?”

Lan Zhan was silent a moment as if considering, before giving a small shake of his head. “Shufu recognized them. He was not the only one.”

“And they were alive? Not…”

A miniscule nod this time. “Yes.” Not an inkling of doubt in the word, nor, to Wei Wuxian’s silent gratitude, any amusement.

Wei Wuxian swallowed again, nodding, his eyes flicking around him without focus. “What if they…will they…”

What if they don’t recognize him? What if they meet him, and realize they were right to leave after all? What if they don’t want him?

Why did they leave to begin with, if they were not killed? And why return now, when things were at their worst – now, as he became the villain of the cultivation world?

Wei Wuxian cleared his throat and tried again. “What do they want?”

“They stormed Jinlintai to speak vehemently in your defense, then came directly here. I believe they mean to protect their son.”

Their son. Wei Wuxian shook his head again, feeling dazed. Everything about the past few days felt too surreal. Even his dreams had never been so strange.

Then his mind caught on Lan Zhan’s words, and he frowned. “Stormed Jinlintai, then spoke on behalf of the enemy? How did they make it out in one piece?”

“Your mother is…”

“A force to be reckoned with. So you’ve said.”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan spoke his name softly, somehow imbuing the words with a steady comfort. “Only they can give you answers.”

Wei Wuxian squeezed Chenqing again, exhaled, and nodded. “Yeah. Alright. Let’s do this.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so nervous. Not since his first days at Lotus Pier, when he didn’t know the right things to do, or what to say. When he didn’t know the answers to any of the questions teachers asked and the other children snickered around him.

His mouth was so dry, he thought he might choke before he even got to them. What a story that would be, what a mundane end to the infamous Wei Wuxian.

-:-

Cangse Sanren waited at the foot of the Burial Mounds, pacing impatiently past rows of fierce corpses, staying just far enough away they did nothing more than growl.

She looked up the mountain, up the trail where Lan Wangji had disappeared. “Maybe we should go after him. What if something happened?”

“To Lan Wangji?” said Luo Qingyang with raised eyebrows. “Not likely. There’s not much Lan Wangji couldn’t handle on his own. And if Wei Wuxian thought he was in danger…” She shook her head. “He’s fine.”

“What’s the deal between them, anyway?”

Luo Qingyang looked at her for a moment. “I feel like that’s something you’d better ask Wei Wuxian yourself.”

“Yeah. That and…literally everything else about his life.” She looked at Wei Changze, suddenly nervous. “Changze, what if he doesn’t want to see us? What if he’s angry we left him alone all these years? What if…”

“Shh…” said Wei Changze softly, enveloping her in a bear hug. “One thing at a time. First, we make sure he isn’t in mortal peril, then we can deal with the emotional fallout.”

“Mdshfbnnf,” said Cangse Sanren into his shoulder, her words unintelligible, but comforted all the same.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” said Luo Qingyang, “Where have you been all these years?”

Cangse Sanren gave a strangled laugh and then raised her head enough to look at Luo Qingyang, without loosening her grip on her husband. “Here, if you can believe it.”

Luo Qingyang’s eyes widened. “So, when Wei Wuxian came here seeking sanctuary, he didn’t even know he was running to his parents?”

“I- " Cangse Sanren started, but then cut off her words as she got distracted. She released her husband, stood straight, and gripped her sword. “Someone is coming.”

The red ward rippled, and two figures stepped through. Beside Lan Wangji was the man they had seen in the rain, with a flute clutched in his hand and a high ponytail wrapped in a crimson ribbon. His gaze caught hers, and they stared at each other.

She took in those bright gray eyes lined with thick lashes, how expressive they were – betraying the anxiety his defensive stance sought to hide. Gray eyes that indeed looked just like her husband’s. The same gray eyes of the child she had birthed from her own body. This was her baby.

“A-Ying,” she said, and his eyes widened. “A-Ying, it’s really you.” And with that, she felt the tears in her eyes spill over as she rushed forward to fold him into her arms. He was so much taller than her now, but it didn’t matter. Wei Ying would always fit perfectly in his mother’s arms. “My A-Ying, I’ve missed you so much.” She held him tightly.

He was so still, though, holding himself stiffly. He did not return the embrace, though he didn’t pull away. The anxiety hadn’t left him.

Cangse Sanren felt her husband’s steady hand on her shoulder. “A-Se,” he said softly.

She stepped back, reluctantly releasing her son, and wiped at her eyes.

“Wei Ying,” Wei Changze said in his gentlest tone, “We are your parents. We are relieved we finally found you. But it's okay if you don't recognize us. We have been gone too long.”

Cangse Sanren’s chest tightened at his words, and she searched Wei Ying’s face again. She found no sign of recognition there, just wariness. Her husband was right: Wei Ying did not know them.

“Oh, A-Ying,” she said, tears spilling down her face once again, "Your mother is so sorry it took us so long to get back to you." She reached for him, longing to take his cheek in her hand and brush his hair from his forehead – but she stopped her motion in midair, uncertain. “You are too thin,” she found herself saying instead. “Aren’t you eating enough?”

Wei Ying blinked. His mouth opened as if he were about to speak, when he was interrupted by Luo Qingyang’s voice.

“Sword glares on the horizon. They’re coming.”

-:-

Distantly, Wei Wuxian was aware of Lan Zhan’s worried eyes moving between his face and the incoming cultivators, just as he was aware of the others turning towards where they would land. But he couldn’t look away from the woman’s face.

The woman who said she was his mother. The woman with an unknown face.

His stomach was twisting on itself. He wanted so badly to believe her, wanted so badly for this animated woman to be his mother and the calm, kind man at her side to be his father. But fear made his heart beat too fast. What if it was a mistake? What if it wasn’t real? How could he survive losing them again?

He had so hoped that with a clear view of them in the daylight, once he saw their faces, those distant memories he retained would sharpen and he would remember.

But he didn’t. The two standing before him were strangers, and seemed so much smaller than in his memories. Could this woman who barely reached above his shoulder really be his legendary mother?

With a clatter, a dozen or so cultivators landed a few yards away.

“Wei Wuxian!”

The familiar sound of Jiang Cheng’s bark pulled Wei Wuxian out of his daze and he felt his shoulders relax. But as antagonistic as it sounded, he was not surprised when Lan Zhan stepped forward protectively.

Unexpectedly, the small woman also stepped in front of him, holding her sword before her as if blocking any attempted advances by the newcomers.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes caught on that sword. Something niggling at the back of his mind, he stared at it, taking in every detail. A dark scabbard, carved in intricate swirls, leaves and flowers trailing up around the cross-guard, and leather wrapped around the grip. He squinted at the leather wrapping, where grooves marred what should have been smooth. Grooves like…little teeth marks.

A feeling like déjà-vu washed over him and he sucked in a breath as he looked back up at her face. She was looking away from him now, apparently engaged in some kind of verbal spar with the Jin cultivators that Wei Wuxian wasn’t paying attention to. Was there something familiar in her face? Maybe, maybe…

Her sword drew his eyes again, and he stepped forward as if in a trance. He reached out, running his fingers over the grooves in the soft leather on the hilt, letting his head tilt as recognition sparked. He felt safe. Inexplicably, he was overcome by the certainty that everything was going to be okay.

Suddenly he realized it had gone quiet around him, and he looked up to find all eyes on him.

“A-Ying?”

He turned to the woman beside him, his hand still resting on her sword, and blinked at her. He still didn't know her face - but he knew the light of love and laughter in her eyes. He felt his brow bunch, as the word came effortlessly to his lips: “A-Niang?”

She smiled at him through the tears in her eyes and nodded, and he felt the rest of the tension leave his chest. He looked over at the man beside her, taking in the reassuring warmth of his eyes. “A-Die?”

“My son,” he replied with a soft smile.

“You came back.”

Something like grief crossed his mother’s face, but she smiled at him again. In a voice too soft for others to hear, she said, “My sweet boy. You don’t have to worry any more. Your mother is here now.”

Too overwhelmed for speech, Wei Wuxian finally looked around and took in who all were gathered. Jiang Cheng stood a little ways apart from where the Peacock stood next to Jin Guanyao. A woman in pink accented with gold stood just behind them – Laoling Qin Sect, maybe? And Sect Leader Yao, unfortunately, along with a gaggle of Jin disciples he didn’t recognize. He wondered vaguely how many of them he had met before.

Movement beside him caught his eye, and for the first time, he focused on the other person who had been with his parents.

“MianMian? What are you doing here? Did I insult your family too?”

She scoffed, but her the corner of her mouth twitched in amusement. “So, you finally noticed I’m here? Did you also notice where I'm standing? I’m on your side, dumb-dumb.” And then she smiled.

He couldn't help smiling back, shocked that she would offer her support. That she would treat him like a sibling. His heart warmed.

“You’re standing on the side of heresy, Luo-guniang,” came Sect Leader Yao’s obnoxious voice. “You still have time to save face and fix your mistake.

MianMian rolled her eyes and didn’t move.

Jiang Cheng glared at Sect Leader Yao. “We’re here to negotiate recompense for the misdeeds of my disciple.”

“Jiang Cheng?” Wei Wuxian’s brows rose, surprised Jiang Cheng was willing to officially speak for him. Still publicly claim him as Yunmeng Jiang.

“You be quiet,” Jiang Cheng snapped back in his direction. And then he grumbled under his breath, “And stay quiet while the grown-ups sort out your mess.”

Wei Wuxian snorted and folded his arms. The day had been one unexpected development after another; he was intensely curious what might happen next.

-:-

Cangse Sanren wished she could hug her son again; she just wanted to focus on him, absorb every detail of his appearance and listen to him tell about himself and all that she had missed. She was annoyed they had to first deal with sect politics.

She sighed. At least it seemed like they may be sincere in their intention to resolve this peacefully. She would give them a chance, though she kept her voice hard when she spoke. “Negotiations will not need so many participants. One from each aggrieved party will be sufficient.”

The one in the stupid hat stepped forward.

Cangse Sanren eyed him, again caught by the sense that there was something oddly familiar about him. “Not you.”

He looked startled, and then his ears reddened as whispers and snorts of derisive laughter broke out behind him among the lower ranked Jin cultivators.

She caught one of the whispered comments, “Obviously we’re not going to be represented by the son of a whore.”

Cangse Sanren’s eyes narrowed. “Who said that? Step forward.”

A startled young woman was pushed to the front of the group.

Cangse Sanren gave the woman an unimpressed look. “What’s your problem?”

The young woman looked uncomfortable at being shoved into the spotlight, but she drew herself up and set her chin at an arrogant angle. “A son of a whore should know his place.”

“You say that like it’s something to be ashamed of,” said Cangse Sanren smoothly, folding her arms over her chest.

“It is.”

“Hm. So tell me of your background, that it gives you such a high horse from which to look down on others?”

“My parents are both Jin disciples, as were my grandfathers before them,” she said proudly.

Cangse Sanren’s eyebrows rose. “Are they. Well. With such an ignominious lineage, it’s incredible you have the face to stand there and try to shame someone else’s.” Cangse Sanren looked her slowly up and down, disdain dripping from her gaze, until the woman turned scarlet with humiliation and anger. The expressions of the rest of the Jin were a mix of confusion, indignation, and – from the Jin Sect Heir – exhaustion.

Beside Cangse Sanren, Wei Changze silently brought a hand up to the center of her back. Ah. He was right. Insulting the Jin could wait until after they had settled their negotiations. First, they had to ensure no one would try to murder their son.

“I really couldn’t care less who his parents are,” Cangse Sanren continued. “I meant, it must be someone with the authority to make decisions for the Jin sect and the power to enforce whatever agreement we come to. Which would be you, no?” She turned to the Jin Heir.

He nodded, then gestured to two others beside him. “Qin Su is the heir of Laoling Qin, and this is Sect Leader Yao, of the Pingyang Yao. They will speak for the other sects who lost cultivators.”

“Whose cultivators were murdered, you mean,” Sect Leader Yao corrected, a nasty curl to his lip.

“Fine, they can come too. We’ll also need Sect Leader Jiang. We can conduct our negotiation over there.” She nodded towards a copse of trees that seemed slightly less eerie than most of their surroundings and started walking over.  

Wei Ying moved to come with her, and she paused.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

His brows rose. “…to wherever we’re negotiating?”

“No, you and Hanguang-Jun are going back up the hill to wait until we’re done.” Until they were certain he was safe.

Wei Ying looked incredulous, but before he could voice his complaints, Sect Leader Baby Jiang cut in. “She’s right. This is an inter-sect negotiation. You are Yunmeng Jiang. I represent your interests.”

“But who will represent the Wen?” Wei Ying still looked upset about being sent away.

“Good point,” said Wei Changze. “The Wen should represent themselves. When you go up the hill, Hanguang-Jun can bring back someone to speak for them.”

“I need to be part of this negotiation.”

Sect Leader Baby Jiang shook his head. “We’re trying to deescalate here. Has that ever happened in your life when you and Jin Zixuan have been in the same room together?”

Wei Ying scowled, but apparently this was a persuasive point.

“Wei Wuxian, you have to trust me.”

“Fine. But Lan Zhan stays with Wen Qing when she comes down. Lan Zhan, don’t let them screw her over.”

Lan Wangji gave a small nod that Wei Ying seemed to accept as a solemn oath, and his shoulders relaxed a little.

“What about her?” cut in Sect Leader Yao. “If we’re trying to let cooler heads prevail, I’m not sure Cangse Sanren is needed.”

“How dare you!”

“You cannot deny you made a mess of Jinlintai. Even now, you are still worked up.”

Cangse Sanren fumed, but looked to Wei Changze. His eyes were asking her to trust him. She huffed a sigh and relented. “Very well. I will go with A-Ying. Wei Changze will stay to mediate negotiations.”

“He’s not exactly a neutral party.”

“No, but he is the only one who doesn’t bear a death grudge against anyone involved. I suppose we could always take this to Baoshan Sanren, to find a truly neutral arbiter. Although she doesn’t much like visitors.”

Sect Leader Yao looked like he was about to open his vile mouth again, but Qin Su cut in smoothly. “The elder Master Wei is welcome to join us. Shall we begin?”

Cangse Sanren looked at her carefully along with the rest of the negotiators. She didn’t trust the Jin or Yao as far as she could throw them, but Qin Su seemed likely to be honorable, and Sect Leader Baby Jiang looked determined to prove himself after his earlier missteps.

She exchanged a look with Wei Changze. She trusted him to handle this, to ensure their son would be protected and justice upheld. She gave him a nod.

“As soon as the Wen representative arrives,” said Wei Changze, "Then we can begin.”

“Come, A-Ying,” Cangse Sanren said softly, lightly guiding her son by his arm. “Let your father handle this. He won’t let you down.”

Reluctantly, he allowed her to lead him away. He was clearly not happy. As they entered the wards and began their ascent, she spoke again. “Is it ok if I come up? You know I am no threat to anyone here. You can carry my sword if you would be more comfortable.”

He looked at her funny and shook his head. “That’s not necessary. Let’s go find Wen Qing before they sell everyone down the river.”

Chapter Text

To: Sect Leader Lan Xichen, Cloud Recesses, Gusu

From: Lan Wangji, Burial Mounds, Yiling

Situation Report

A. INCIDENT NAME

Egress of Wen Remnants from Qiongqi Path

B. REPORT TYPE

1. [ ] Initial
2. [X] Update# 2  
3. [ ] Final

C. REPORT STATUS

1. [ ] ADVISORY: No Action Required
2. [X] ALERT: Action Required

D. REPORT CREATOR

1. UNIT REPORTING: Lan Wangji
2. HOME LOCATION: Cloud Recesses, Gusu
3. PRESENT LOCATION: Burial Mounds, Yiling

E. INCIDENT/EVENT INFORMATION

1. INCIDENT LOCATION: Burial Mounds, Yiling
2. JURISDICTION: Unclaimed
3. INCIDENT TYPE: Other
4. INCIDENT COMPLEXITY LEVEL: Very Complex

F. SITUATION PROGNOSIS

1. [ ] WORSENING
2. [X] STABLE    
3. [ ] IMPROVING   

G. CURRENT OPERATIONAL AREA SYSTEM CONDITION

1. [ ] GREEN – Normal Operations: (Update: Situation Resolved)
2. [ ] YELLOW – Under Control: NO Assistance Required
3. [ ] ORANGE – Assistance from within the jurisdiction/OA Required
4. [X] RED – SOME Assistance required from outside the jurisdiction/OA
5. [ ] BLACK – SIGNIFICANT Assistance required from outside the jurisdiction/OA.
6. [ ] GREY - Unknown - Conducting Assessments

H. ACTIVITY

Consensus reached in negotiations between affected sects.

• Re: Restitution for deaths of guards at Qiongqi Path prison camp. Laoling Qin, Lanling Jin, and Pingyang Yao report satisfaction with reparations offered by Yunmeng Jiang. Wei Wuxian hereby resolved of any culpability or future consequence related to these deaths. Situation resolved.
• Re: Wen Remnants. Sects agree to consider this a transfer of prisoner internment from Qiongqi Path to Burial Mounds. Freedom of movement for Wen Remnants continues to be restricted; sects agree to refrain from any further harm of prisoners. Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze appointed as supervision, to provide regular reports to major sects regarding activity, threats, and needs of Wen Remnants. Major sects will continue to fund care and sustenance of prisoners, as agreed in Sunshot Accords. Situation ongoing.

I. SITUATION OVERVIEW

Negotiators from affected clans left the area after agreement was reached. Wei Wuxian, Wei Changze, and Cangse Sanren have volunteered to remain in the Burial Mounds with the Wen Remnants. No further sign of the alleged ‘Ghost General’.

Many of the Wen Remnants remain in poor health due to injury or illness incurred while in the Qiongqi Path Camp. Wen Qing is providing medical care, but additional medical supplies are needed.

J. CURRENT PRIORITIES AND CRITICAL ISSUES

• Safety in the Burial Mounds. Wei Wuxian attests that the designated area of the Burial Mounds is habitable for humans. Significant risk remains of yaomoguiguai incursion from surrounding areas. Unknown risk of ill effects from high levels of ambient resentful energy in ground, air, and water – high concern that risk of harm may be elevated for elders and children.
• Supplies and logistics. Jiang Yanli has supplied sufficient provisions for the current residents for approx. 10 days. See enclosed list of additional supplies needed. Further discussion needed on ongoing logistics for supplying the Burial Mounds.
• Communications. Luo Qingyang has volunteered to stay in Yiling proper to facilitate messages passing to and from the Burial Mounds, including Supervisory Reports sent to the major clans. She will also report on any unusual activity in the surrounding areas and any changes to risk assessment.

K. OUTLOOK & ADDITIONAL COMMENTS

• The residents of the Burial Mounds present minimal threat to Jianghu. Wen Remnants do not have weapons, and all but a few are non-combatants. Wei Wuxian retains control of the Stygian Tiger Seal and guards the Burial Mounds with fierce corpses under his control, but these are used purely as defensive measures. No signs of aggression towards neutral parties.
• Control of Stygian Tiger Seal is likely to continue being a point of contention among the sects. Situation unresolved.
• Exile to the Burial Mounds is at best a temporary solution to the incident and presents an unacceptable ongoing level of risk to Wen Remnants, Wen child, and Wei Wuxian’s family.
• Further actions to be determined upon my return to Cloud Recesses in 4 days’ time.

L. SUMMARY OF IMPACT

1. POPULATION AFFECTED: 55
2. FATALITIES: 0 (since arrival at Burial Mounds)
3. INJURED/ILL – IMMEDIATE: severe malnourishment in 16 adults and 1 child; severe injury in 3 adults
4. INJURED/ILL – DELAY: 12 adults
5. INJURED/ILL – MINOR: 8 adults

END OF SITREP

-:-

To: Luo Qingyang, Yiling

From: Qin Su, Laoling

Dear MianMian,

Thank you for staying in Yiling and arranging the post. It’s reassuring to know I can trust communications are getting where they need to go. What a mess this whole thing has been!

The negotiations appeared so bleak for a moment - it seemed impossible Jin Zixuan and Jiang Wanyin would ever come to agreement. I honestly was afraid we were at an impasse and the whole situation would go up in flames from so much as a spark from Zidian. What good timing Jiang Yanli had arriving! Just when things were most tense, she shows up out of nowhere and declares that she’s going into the Burial Mounds to see her Xian-didi and wait for them to find consensus. Suddenly Jin Zixuan and Jiang Wanyin reached agreement within minutes, each of them conceding points where they had dug their heels in previously. A truly unexpected turn of events! Did it seem to you that there were some very interesting glances going on between Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan? Didn’t they have a very dramatic falling out some years ago? I would not have expected her appearance to make such a difference to him now – but every time she looked at him, he seemed to stop breathing and start blushing. I’ve never seen the proud Jin Zixuan in such a state!

I’m glad we were able to avoid further conflict then, but don’t let down your guard – Jin Zixuan may have agreed to the outcomes of the negotiation, but I hear Jin Guangshan was not well pleased with how everything turned out. I don’t know what he intends to do about it. There’s still a lot of gossip about Wei Wuxian and his undead army, too. People are still nervous about what he and the Wen Remnants are up to in the Burial Mounds.

Thank you for your letter – your friendship has always been dear to me and made many a Lanling banquet not only bearable, but enjoyable. I feared with the way everything went down, I would never see you again. Or that you wouldn’t want to see me. I hope the next time we meet it may be under more pleasurable circumstances.

Yours truly,

Qin Su

-:-

To: Qin Su, Laoling

From: Luo Qingyang, Yiling

Dear SuSu,

How did you miss the whole drama that happened with Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli at the Phoenix Mountain Crowd Hunt!? My boy made the biggest fool of himself declaring his affections for her in front of everyone – and then running away! It was amazing. I’m honestly so proud of him, he’s come so far.

I have not heard from him since my secession from the sect. He looked like he wanted to say something while he was here, but never did. I can’t tell if he hates me now. I hope not. I hope there is some way to mend our friendship. If you get a chance, can you put in a little word for me? Let him know I have no ill feelings towards him, and I still consider us friends? Watch out for him when you can, too – no telling what sort of predicaments he’ll get himself into without me there as his People Translator. I do feel bad for leaving him so suddenly like that – but I truly could not stand another minute in Jinlintai. You know how it is. At least you can escape to Laoling.

It was a relief the negotiations went so peacefully, even if the outcome was not ideal. Really, it was only possible because you took the lead and redirected the conversation every time the men were getting ridiculous (it also helped that Lan Wangji stared down Sect Leader Yao every time he opened his big mouth – so much more efficient that way!). If it had been left only to the men, the situation would have indeed been hopeless.

Honestly for a minute there I expected Jiang Yanli to announce she was moving into the Burial Mounds – especially once she caught sight of little Wen Yuan. Jin Zixuan and her brothers looked like they were collectively going to have an aneurysm if she did. But she just made sure the kid was well fed with soup and promised to check up on him (and Wei Wuxian) regularly. She is definitely still pissed that the agreement reached left Wei Wuxian and a small child in the Burial Mounds. Very curious if we’ll end up with another show like what happened at the Crowd Hunt – if you haven’t heard about sweet little Jiang Yanli ruthlessly and oh-so-politely cutting Jin Zixun down to size, you’ve got to ask around about it. Woman of the Year, I swear. (Although, I do wonder if he might yet hold a grudge…)

Things have been going surprisingly well here since then. I’ve been doing a lot of hunting lately, both nighthunting and for meat to share. I like being able to bring something when I go up the mountain with news. Being there for the evening meal is my favorite. At first, the Wens tried to keep out of the way of the cultivators and keep to themselves, but Cangse Sanren and Wei Changse insisted on eating together with everyone. So now everyone gathers around the campfire together and tell stories and it’s all so warm and oddly homey. And Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze have the best stories! Just story after story of their adventures as rogue cultivators and of their friends - who of course are now all well-known seniors among the clans. I will never see Lan Qiren the same way again after hearing of the pranks Cangse Sanren pulled on him - and how he responded, haha! I keep wondering who all Cangse Sanren might have blackmail on. Doesn’t it seem like she would know things people wish she didn’t?

Since the Wen and Wei Wuxian missed his parents’ epic scene in Jinlintai, I made sure everyone heard the whole story – in great detail – of how Cangse Sanren chewed out all the sect leaders for their hypocrisy and left them all flustered and speechless. Cangse Sanren very nearly blushed! “They had it coming,” was all she said, and no one disagreed.

The last time I was up there, they told the story of the spider demon that had trapped them so near here, for so many years. It was lucky for them that Jiang Fengmian and his disciples were able to kill the spider demon before it came back to eat them back then. I think we’ve about solved the mystery of how they reappeared when they did too – Wei Changze believes they were able to escape because of Wei Wuxian’s manipulating the resentful energy in the area when he brought the Wens into the Burial Mounds, that it finally broke the spider demon’s web that had kept them suspended in deep sleep for so long. But SuSu, if you could have seen how their grief was still so evident in their eyes. I can’t imagine being separated from my child like that. But the sweetest part was how Wei Changze hugged his son closer as they told the story – it really hasn’t taken them long to become close, to start regaining what was lost all those years ago. 

Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze tell stories of baby Wei Wuxian, too! The kinds of adoring stories that usually embarrass grown children when they’ve heard the same tales told over and over all their lives. But they are all new to Wei Wuxian, so even if he gets embarrassed sometimes, he mostly has this look of wonder like a child witnessing sword flight for the first time.

I’ve been going up into the Burial Mounds about once a week, but Cangse Sanren comes into town almost every other day, often with her husband. I swear those two are now besties with like half the town. They’ve just charmed everyone here – you wouldn’t believe the deals they get on vegetables in the market – especially if they bring Wen Yuan with them! They’ve become Aunt and Uncle to the whole town. And every time they’re here, Cangse Sanren has another letter to post to one of her old acquaintances or a report to one of the major sects.

I don’t think its just the townspeople they’ve charmed either. Lan Wangji visits regularly, and even Nie Mingjue has been here twice, ostensibly checking up on the Stygian Tiger Seal Jin Guangshan is still trying to make such a fuss about. But every time he’s here, Nie Mingjue and Wen Qing get into these ridiculous squabbles over nothing, like an old married couple. Most of the time Wen Qing stays so quiet, trying not to draw attention to herself or her family she’s protecting. But something about Nie Mingjue brings the fire out in her. It’s fascinating. There’s something in the way he looks at her, too. I wish you could see them together and tell me if it’s all my wishful thinking!

When you get a chance, come back to visit. I would love to see you, and you can check on the situation in the Burial Mounds yourself. You can have dinner with everyone. The ambiance isn’t great, but the company really is delightful.

Honestly, I miss you, SuSu. Things are going so much better than I had feared but…well, this isn’t exactly where I had expected to end up, you know?

Always Yours,

MianMian

-:-

To: Wei Wuxian, Burial Mounds, Yiling

From: Jiang Cheng, Lotus Pier, Yunmeng

Wei Wuxian -

I don’t know what the hell you've been up to lately. One day I hear rumors about how the Yiling Laozu is stealing children in the night and murdering villagers for his undead army, and the next a story about how when Wei Wuxian was a ‘wee lad’ he escaped from his parents in the marketplace and by the time they found him by a honey-seller’s stall, he had upended a whole jar of honey on himself, and how it took three days of baths to rid him of the stickiness.

Yanli is worried about you. Don’t give her more to worry about. Don’t do anything stupid – or at least, more stupid than you already have.

The Peacock has been around a lot lately. I blame you – it’s your fault he has this excuse to show up and bother Yanli all the time. But he does seem motivated to resolve the situation. As long as you don’t stir anything else up, you won’t be stuck in the Burial Mounds forever. Just try not to make things worse.

You looked like shit last time I saw you, so here are some better robes. Don’t you know you need more layers when it gets cold like this. Try not to shame the sect.

- Jiang Cheng

-:-

To: Cangse Sanren, Burial Mounds, Yiling 

From: Lan Qiren, Cloud Recesses, Gusu

Dear Cangse,

Your superfluity of recent communications does not go unnoticed, although I cannot help but observe that had you been half as dedicated to timely reports as a student, our teacher would not have despaired of you.

Madam Jin has informed me that her pleas to be left out of such frequent, exhaustive, quotidian reports have gone unheeded. She believes my entreaty may be more successful, so I will say only this: you may find more attentive readers elsewhere than Madam Jin. She does not appear to share your enthusiasm for exploring in depth the provenance and diversities of fertilizer, and their consequent effects on the quality of produce.  

Cangse Sanren cultivating radishes! I recall, of course, your interest in exploring new branches of cultivation, but I never imagined I would hear Cangse Sanren had taken up the Radish Path. I do not know whether it is a concern or a comfort to know that even as I advance into my graying years, life will continue to procure the unexpected.

Your previous letters also indicated your husband and son have been experimenting with advances in talismanic sanitation systems, with mixed and somewhat messy results. While I question the wisdom of such experiments – are the Burial Mounds not dangerous enough already, without Wei Wuxian inventing new combustible compounds? – I urge you to at least proceed with all due caution. If you have need of appropriate personal protective equipment, I will send it with my nephew when he next visits.

Sincerely,

Lan Qiren

-:-

To: Hanguang-Jun, Cloud Recesses, Gusu

From: Wei Wuxian, Burial Mounds, Yiling

Hey Lan Zhan,

I can’t believe it’s only been three days since you were last here, it feels like you’ve been gone forever. I hardly have a moment to myself these days, so how is it that I notice every minute you’re not here? Of course, I know Hanguang-Jun doesn’t really belong here, and so many people need you. It’s good for you to be at home – what would the Cloud Recesses be, absent of Hanguang-Jun? But you’ll come back and visit when you can, yeah?

Don’t push your luck though – I don’t want your uncle more upset with me than he already is. In all seriousness, Lan Zhan, you don’t know how relieved I was that you weren’t in worse trouble with your sect after everything that happened. I couldn’t stand it if things went badly for you because of me.

Fortunes can shift so quickly. So unexpectedly. Not sure whether the right response is to fear the uncertainty of the future, or just say fuck it, I’ve only got the one life anyway and no one knows what’s going to happen next – might as well live life on my terms. What do you think?

These past months have been surreal. I keep waiting to wake up back in Lotus Pier to Jiang Cheng shaking me awake saying I’m late to practice and Madam Yu is furious. But those carefree days are long gone, aren’t they?

Maybe strangest of all is that when a decision has to be made, everyone looks to me and Wen Qing. Not that they believe we have all the answers, just that they trust our judgment. Even my parents. I wouldn’t have expected they would treat me so much like an equal, but maybe it’s strange for them too, meeting me as I am now. I mean they do their share of fussing, and every time I turn around at the dinner table, I find more meat and vegetables in my bowl that weren’t there a moment before. But they trust me. They offer perspectives and advice, but they don’t tell anyone here what to do. Just pitch in where work needs to be done and start up conversations with anyone who might be feeling left out. Is this what family is like?

I have parents, Lan Zhan. And they’re like, actually really cool? I still feel kind of odd calling them A-Niang and A-Die, but anything else feels too wrong.

I found out A-Die also gets a kick out of tinkering with talismans, so we’ve been working on projects together. I never even knew enough to have this kind of fantasy growing up, it’s so much better than anything I pictured. (I mean, the living in the Burial Mounds thing kinda sucks, but you can’t have everything, right?) Next time you come, I’ll show you what we’ve been working on. Probably. If we can work out the kinks by then. Otherwise, I’ll just tell you about it and not risk the wrath of Old Man Lan when I accidentally fry off his beloved nephew’s eyebrows. (I would never, Lan Zhan! Every hair on your head is much too precious).

Turns out I also have a green thumb? Greenish anyway. I’m learning. Uncle Four has been teaching me and A-Niang both – we’re learning together.

It’s all made me realize maybe it doesn’t take so much to be happy. I find myself daydreaming about just having a little cottage in the countryside with a kitchen garden out back. Can’t you just picture it? Breathing in the sunshine and scent of warm soil and green, growing things.  I could build a swing in a big shade tree for A-Yuan if he wants to come play. And what if you were there?  Would you visit me in my little cottage? What do you think about that kind of life? Ah, but it’s just a fantasy anyway.

In answer to the question in your last letter, yes, I am dressing warm enough. You wouldn’t believe the stock of robes Jiang Cheng sent – he said they were for me, but curiously they are in an assortment of sizes. Including some that just happen to be perfect for A-Yuan. There’s an awful lot of purple mixed in with the grays and maroons – you think he’s trying to tell me something?

And did you know your uncle has been exchanging letters with my mom? Although you may want to be on the lookout for an imposter or signs of possession – he included a joke in his last letter! Hand to heaven, I’m telling the truth – I saw it with my own eyes. I had no idea the old man had it in him.

A-Yuan misses you. He keeps asking me when Rich-gege is coming back, as if he didn’t already have a whole collection of toys from you. Thanks again for everything you’ve done for him. Really, it’s not surprising you and A-Yuan have bonded – after all, you’re the two best people I know.

Wen Qing is calling me – apparently I was on laundry duty today. Whoops. Write me when you can, Lan Zhan. A word from you is always the best part of my day.

Always,

Wei Wuxian

P.S. If you hear any rumors about me don’t listen to them, they are all malicious falsehoods.

Chapter Text

The warm aroma of breakfast and the even warmer sound of her son's laughter drew Cangse Sanren into the still-standing part of the dilapidated, ancient palace that they had turned into a dining hall.  

"Ah, there's my hibernating honey bear. Good morning," said Wei Changze, wrapping an arm around her in a cozy side hug as Cangse Sanren smothered a yawn into her sleeve.

Wei Ying chuckled again, attention still focused on the page in his hand, and it warmed everything in Cangse Sanren’s soul to hear it. He was sitting at a table reading as Wen Ning helped A-Yuan with his breakfast beside him.

"Morning love," she said to her husband. "Is that a letter? Does that mean...?" Cangse Sanren paused, eyes scanning until they landed on MianMian on the other side of the room, and the older woman beamed. "MianMian! You're here!"

"Hi, Auntie. And look who I brought with me." MianMian grinned, stepping to the side so Cangse Sanren could see the person conversing with Fourth Uncle behind her.

"A-Su!" Cangse Sanren pulled away from her husband to fling an arm around each of the new arrivals and give them a brief squeeze.

"Good morning, Cangse-qianbei," said Qin Su, looking shyly pleased at the welcome.

“Oh, it's so good to see you lovely ladies again,” said Cangse Sanren, before she was interrupted by another peal of laughter from Wei Ying. “So is that another letter from our favorite Second Jade?”

“Who else? Look at him over there, grinning like a fool,” replied MianMian, smiling widely herself.

Qin Su looked softly amused. “Do you think he's figured it out yet?”

“Not a chance.”

Cangse Sanren chuckled before addressing Wei Ying. "Good news from Gusu, Ying-er?"

“Ah, A-Niang, you’re up!” Her son smiled up at her. “Yes, things are good in Gusu. But Lan Zhan, he’s so ridiculous!”

“Yes,” said Mianmian flatly, “That’s what Hanguang-Jun is known for across the Jianghu.”

“No, no, wait until you hear this,” insisted Wei Ying. “I had told him in my last letter not to listen to anything he hears, because all the rumors are full of nonsense, right?”

“Sure.”

“And he says,” Wei Ying looked down at the page in his hand to read, “’Fear not, I would never take unreliable rumors to heart. Gossip is forbidden, after all.’”

“Sounds like Hanguang-Jun.”

“Yeah, but then look what he sent along with it.” Wei Ying reached into the bag beside him and pulled out a jar. “He sent several jars of honey!”

Cangse Sanren laughed along with the others. “Darling, that story was absolutely true. It’s hardly wanton gossip.”

“A-Niang, how will anyone take me seriously as the scourge of the cultivation world, if you keep telling everyone my embarrassing baby stories?”

“Hm, a conundrum to be sure,” she said as she sat down beside Wen Ning and instantly found a toddler crawling into her lap. She smiled and hugged the boy. Wen Ning smiled at her and passed over the porridge so A-Yuan could keep eating, before stepping away from the table.

“Cangse-qianbei’s stories have been quite effective” said Qin Su as she and MianMian took seats around the table, though it seemed they had already eaten breakfast. “You should see how embarrassed Jin-furen looks when Jin-zongzhu starts on his tirade about how unstable and dangerous Wei Wuxian supposedly is. Hardly anyone takes him seriously anymore.”

“He’s the one that sounds unstable,” added MianMian. “He sounds paranoid.”

Qin Su nodded. “Despite all the vicious rumors still trickling out of Jinlintai, public opinion is starting to turn in your favor. Or at least, fewer people are willing to believe the worst of it.”

“Just because of a few baby stories?” asked Wen Ning, returning with another bowl of porridge he set before Cangse Sanren before resuming his seat. She smiled at him, with a quiet thank you for bringing her breakfast. She was always impressed by the young man’s thoughtfulness. She made a mental note to check on him later; he’d only been back among the living for about a month, and she worried about his condition.

“It’s not just the baby stories,” Qin Su was saying. “Cangse-qianbei has been sending tons of letters to all her old acquaintances, too. People have started complaining about them, especially Madam Jin. They all contain lengthy, tedious details about life in the Burial Mounds, with exhaustive descriptions of radish planting and latrine construction.”

MianMian explained, “Auntie has thoroughly eliminated any shadowy mystery about what might be going on up here. There’s no uncertainty left for anyone to exploit with sensational theories and malicious rumors. She managed to make the Burial Mounds so boring, no one wants to hear about it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Cangse Sanren, suppressing a smile as she helped A-Yuan with his porridge. “I merely wanted to get in touch with everyone, after being gone for so long. It’s important to keep up relations, you know.”

“Yes, darling. I remember just how often you corresponded with Ouyang-zongzhu back in the day,” said Wei Changze dryly, giving her a look.

Cangse Sanren laughed. “He has enough kids of his own. I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t be interested in my speculations on the impact of different foods on A-Yuan’s bowl movements.”

“I suspect he doesn’t even bother to read them, though,” said Qin Su, sighing. “He and Yao-zongzhu, and many of the smaller sects near Lanling, are still following Jin-zongzhu’s lead. To be honest, I’m not even sure of my father’s thoughts on the situation.”

“How has Jin Guangshan been reacting to his declining influence?”

“He’s pissed,” said MianMian.

“Not surprised,” replied Cangse Sanren. “It’s unlikely he’s given up on his designs on the Stygian Tiger Seal.”

Wei Ying’s expression soured. “He’s been lusting after it since he first found out it existed. I doubt he’ll give up that easily.”

“Whatever he tries, we’ll be ready for it,” said Cangse Sanren. She helped A-Yuan wipe his face and climb down from her lap. Fourth Uncle followed the boy as he ran outside to play.

“Jin Zixun is thoroughly on Jin-zongzhu's side. I'm afraid he's been going around badmouthing Cangse-qianbei and everyone else here," said Qin Su, looking regretful. "But I think Madam Jin and Jin Zixuan have been trying to talk the sect leader down. A-Yao says the situation is complicated. He’s been trying to stay clear of the conflict. He’s not in a position to afford getting on his father’s bad side.”

“’A-Yao’?” asked Wen Ning.

Wei Ying leaned toward him and whispered, “Meng Yao.”

“Ah,” Wen Ning nodded, but Qin Su frowned.

“Jin Guangyao,” she said firmly. “His name is Jin Guangyao.”

“My apologies,” said Wen Ning, covering for Wei Ying as he always seemed to. “I think I m-missed a few things when I was...ah. Um. Has J-Jin Guangyao really been accepted by Jin-zongzhu?”

MianMian nodded. “He gained recognition for his contributions in the war. He’s legitimately a Jin now.”

Wei Ning’s eyes were wide. “That is…unexpectedly d-decent of Jin Guangshan.”

Mianmian scoffed. “Yeah, but leave it to Jin-zongzhu to find a way to grant the man his life-long wish while simultaneously slapping him in the face by not giving him the proper generational name.”

Wei Ying scrunched his nose. “True.”

“A-Yao is a hero. And he is very proud of being able to take his rightful place in the Jin clan, even if he isn’t in the line of succession,” said Qin Su with her quiet dignity.

“You’re talking about that little fellow in the hat?” Cangse Sanren cut in, remembering the man with the placating, competent bearing whom his fellow disciples had sneered at for being ‘the son of a whore’. She set down her spoon in her now empty bowl and shook her head. “It’s driving me crazy that he looks so familiar.”

Wei Changze cocked his head at her. “How could he look familiar? He’s too young for you to have met him before. He was probably a toddler when we…left.”

“I know! He would have been just a baby.” Cangse Sanren smiled. “What a cute baby he must’ve been too, with those dimples and big eyes.”

Dimples. Son of a whore.

“Huh,” she said then, mind stirring, on the cusp of grasping onto something. “Oh. Oh no.” Cangse Sanren’s eyes flew wider as her head whipped back around to face Qin Su. It couldn’t be. No, I’m definitely reading too much into this.

“What’s wrong, A-Se?” Wei Changze touched her shoulder.

Cangse Sanren’s attention was fixed on Qin Su. “Wait, did you say Meng Yao was his name before?”

“Yes, why?”

“Do you happen to know…where he is from?”

“Does it matter?” Qin Su’s posture was stiff; poor thing was so used to needing to defend him.

“No, no, not at all. Just…there’s no chance he was born in Yunping, right?”

“Why, Cangse-qianbei, that is exactly where he was born. How did you know?” Qin Su’s defensive demeanor dropped in her surprise. Now she looked at Cangse Sanren with wide, curious eyes that were mirrored around the table.

“Oh. Shit.” Cangse Sanren closed her eyes and turned towards her husband beside her, putting her head in her hand. 

“A-Se, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, really.” She dropped her hand but still spoke almost into his shoulder.

“Cangse…” he said suspiciously. “I know that face. That is not a ‘nothing’ face.”

“I just… I figured out why he looks so familiar.”

“Why? How could you know him?”

“I don’t know him, exactly. I…” Cangse blew out a long breath, then lifted her eyes to meet her husband’s. “Changze, I fucked his mom.”

She heard a gasp from MianMian but didn’t turn to see the others’ reactions.

“You what?!” exclaimed Wei Changze. “You did not fuck that Jin boy’s mother.”

Cangse Sanren just looked at him, face still as stone.

“Oh. You fucked his mom. Was it like…one time, or…?”

She kept looking at him, only raising her eyebrows a smidge.

“Oh.” Wei Changze blew out a large breath of his own. “So not one time, then. Got it.” He glanced at the others around the table with their shocked expressions, then looked again at Cangse Sanren with a grim face. “Well shit.”

Wen Ning leaned towards Wei Ying and whispered, “Should we give them some privacy?”

“Are you kidding?” said MianMian, eyes glittering. “We can’t leave now. This is a story I’ve got to hear.” Beside her, Qin Su was blushing hard and looked torn about whether to leave or keep listening.

Qin Su's curiosity must have won out; she finally ventured, “How did you know Meng Shi?”

“Well.” Cangse Sanren looked at her husband helplessly at the confirmation of who Jin Guangyao’s mother was. “Changze, you know how much time I spent in Yunmeng before we were married. Eventually I would run out of excuses to hang around Lotus Pier, and go hang out in Yunping for a while, since it was so close. It was driving me nuts, spending so much time flirting with you and then never knowing for sure if you were really interested in me or just being nice. So when I couldn’t take it any more, I would go see Meng Shi and….work out the tension.”

“You…wow.” Wei Changze looked like he was holding back laughter now. She smacked his shoulder lightly, but couldn’t help smiling a little herself.

MianMian was visibly giggling behind her sleeve.

“He looks just like her, Changze,” said Cangse Sanren, a little wistfully. “He might have the Jin eyebrows, but the delicate cheekbones and soft face, the petite frame – it’s all Meng Shi.”

“That explains a lot, actually,” said Wei Changze thoughtfully. “Have you noticed how his etiquette is too perfect for gentry?”

“True. The only people never allowed to make a mistake or be less than perfect are those who serve the gentry,” said MianMian.

“He was trained by his mother,” Cangse Sanren concluded, suddenly sure of it. “It explains his people skills that he certainly did not inherit from his father. He knows exactly how to identify what a person wants most, and then use that knowledge to his advantage. Knows how to make himself come across as shy and demure, so others don’t feel threatened by him. Knows how to protect himself through smooth talking and looking nonthreatening. Classic sex worker skills.” She nodded to herself. “He’s really quite impressive.

Qin Su, who had been starting to fidget and looked on the verge of another defensive outburst, suddenly relaxed at the praise for her friend and found a small smile.

“Wait,” said Wei Ying, speaking for the first time since the topic turned to his mother’s relationship history. “I don’t understand. Meng Shi was a woman. But you had a relationship with her and then married a man?”

Cangse Sanren blinked at him, trying to understand the source of his confusion. Then she tilted her head a little. “Ying-er,” she said cautiously. “You do know some people…go both ways?”

“Oh,” he said. Then his eyes widened, panicked. “OH. I have to go.” Hurriedly, he rose from his seat and fled the room.

As soon as he was gone, the girls burst out laughing. “I think he’s finally figured it out,” said MianMian.

Wen Ning smiled softly. “I’m proud of him.”

“I am too. But maybe one of us should check on him?” said Wei Changze, looking at his wife.

“Let’s give him some time, and then I’ll talk to him later,” said Cangse Sanren, smiling softly before leaning against his shoulder.

Wei Ying managed to stay hidden the rest of the day, not even emerging for dinner with everyone or to see MianMian and Qin Su off when they left in the evening.

The next day, Cangse Sanren went to look for him. She found him down by the stream, scrubbing at a tiny, muddy robe. An empty basket and a pile of child-sized robes sat beside him.

“Laundry day?” she asked as she squatted next to him.

He huffed a laugh. “I washed my clothes the other day,” he said, gesturing with his head at the black and red robes hanging from a tree branch. “But Wen Qing made me wash A-Yuan’s too. It’s not even my turn.”

Cangse Sanren smiled. “Maybe if you didn’t keep planting him in the garden like a radish, there wouldn’t be so much laundry to do.”

“As if you weren't right there piling dirt on him, too.” He smiled back at her and she laughed, picking up another robe and and the bar of soap.

"Fair enough. I'll join you, then."

They worked together in silence for a while before Wei Ying spoke up again. “A-Niang, can I ask you a question?”

“Anything, Ying-er.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot. About. Things.”

She hummed to show she was listening as she picked up another robe to wash.

“You and A-Die fit so well together. You make each other smile and laugh even after being married for so long.”

“Your father makes me very happy. We’ve been blessed with a wonderful marriage.”

“But how can you know if it’s right, before you get married? How do you know if someone is…like. Your person? That you will keep being right for each other, even so many years later?”

“Hm,” Cangse Sanren said, pausing her scrubbing as she thought for a moment. He didn’t often ask for serious advice, and she wanted to give him a good answer. Finally, she sighed a little and said, “You can’t know for sure what will happen in the future. Marriage is always a leap of faith. But you’ll know you’re ready to take it when you find the person you can trust no matter what. Someone you can trust will defend you when you're right. And just as importantly, trust they will tell you when you're wrong, and do it with love.

“In a marriage, you need an equal partner. Someone you can trust they'll have your back no matter what comes.” She smiled to herself as she rinsed the robe in her hand. “Trust that when you pick a fight with an over-powered spider demon or a platoon of Jin cultivators, they’re already falling into an attack stance beside you, no questions asked. Someone you trust to love you at your worst, and trust to keep treating you with love even when they’re at their worst. Someone you trust to bring out the best in you.”

She turned her head to look at him and set a damp hand on his knee. “Ying-er, when you find the person you trust like that, don’t let them go.”

He seemed thoughtful, looking down at the laundry in his hand. “Lan Zhan…Lan Zhan does all of that,” he whispered. But he looked troubled, his gaze distant.

“What’s wrong, Ying-er?”

He didn’t answer right away, just rinsed the last robe.

“Just, look where I am,” he said finally. He met her eyes, and she saw the turmoil in them. Then he stood and tossed the wet robe into the basket now full of clean, wet laundry. “How can I be thinking of things like relationships and marriage, when I live in the Yiling Burial Mounds?”

Wei Ying shook his head and grabbed the basket.

“Ying-er…” Cangse Sanren followed him over to the trees as he started to hang the little robes to dry. She joined him, trying to think of anything useful to say to comfort her son.

But Wei Ying spoke first, his voice bitter. “Yiling. I can’t escape this town. I feel like I’m cursed; no matter what direction I walk, I always end up here." He glanced at her and then went back to his task, keeping his hands busy. "It’s where I lost you. Where I fought dogs for food,” he continued, unaware of how the words fell like bruises against his mother’s tender heart.

“And did you know this is where I met Wen Qing? Wen Ruohan put her in charge of the Yiling Supervisory Office during the war. He never expected his niece would harbor the enemy. But she and Wen Ning hid us here, after Lotus Pier was attacked, when we had lost everything.”

He looked around, at the ashy trees, the dark depths of the haunted forest around them. “And then this is where Wen Chao…where I fell. Where I was meant to die. This was where I learned my cultivation. The dark, heretical ghost path.

“And then Wen Ning was killed, and the people who had protected me were being hunted. I know Lan Zhan was right. There’s no going back after this, abandoning orthodoxy so publicly. Taking a stand against the entire Jianghu. I’ve again lost everything. Where else could I go, but here?

“The greatest tragedies of my life, and somehow Yiling was part of all of them.  Somehow worse things keep happening, and I keep coming back here,” he finished bleakly. “I can’t escape. How can I dream of a future?”

Cangse Sanren swallowed back the lump in her throat and focused on her son. “Yiling has been a place of loss and fear,” she said softly, with understanding. “But I promise you won't be here forever. I promise. And remember, Yiling was also the place Fengmian found you, before he took you home. It’s where the Wen siblings harbored you and kept you safe, before becoming your closest friends. Where your parents were returned to you.” She paused, searching his eyes, though he looked away. “Where you realized you were in love.”

He wouldn’t look at her, his jaw tense. She took a different tack.

“And this is where you’ve achieved the impossible. It’s truly remarkable, what you’ve accomplished. You’ve made this place of death and despair into someplace livable. Into a home for all of these people who desperately needed one. Not to mention, forging an entire new path of cultivation – not even once in a generation does someone manage that combination of ingenuity, persistence, and creativity.”

He tensed when she brought up his cultivation path and looked at her warily. “Aren’t you going to tell me to give it up?”

She met his gaze steadily. “You’re an adult, Wei Ying. You have to make your own choices about what’s important to you. About what you want, and the cost you’re willing to pay to get it.”

“But?”

“No ‘but’. I just have one question."

"What?"

"Is it hurting you?”

He let out the breath he was holding but didn’t meet her eye. “It's fine. I can handle it.”

She nodded and finished hanging the last of the wet laundry. “I know. I just thought it might be a little easier if you didn’t have to handle it alone.”’

“…you believe me?”

“I have no reason to doubt you.” She noted his disbelieving look, but moved to where Wei Ying’s now-dry robes were hung and started folding them. “Will you just promise me one thing, Ying-er?”

“What is it?”

“If it ever becomes the case that it is harming you, please tell your mother. So we can figure out together how to address whatever the issue is and keep my son safe. Will you do that for me?”

He picked up the laundry basket and held it for her as Cangse Sanren placed the folded robes inside.

“It…does occasionally. Have some side effects. A bit,” he admitted, watching her closely.

She nodded. “I suspected as much. But maybe I can help. Maybe later we could sit down with Wen Qing and talk through what you’ve noticed?”

“Maybe,” he said, and she took it as a win.

She followed him back towards the cave he had adopted as his home, considering. She was glowing with the warmth of feeling close to her son. He had asked her advice, had trusted her enough to admit weakness. Maybe it was time.

When she was certain they were alone in the cave, she finally asked the question that had been weighing on her mind for months. “So, why does everyone believe you have a golden core?”

If she hadn’t been watching him so closely, she might have missed the brief moment when his movements froze, before he regained his step to finish crossing the room. He bent to set down the basket next to his bed. “I'm the senior disciple of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect,” he replied, voice carefully neutral. He turned to face her. “How could I not have a golden core?”

“I don't know, but I would very much like to hear the story, if you’ll share it with me,” she said gently.

His hand came up to the flute in his belt, as if by habit. "Where did this question even come from? Why would you doubt me? Is this about my sword again?" He pulled the flute from his belt and fidgeted with it.

"You have a sword?" That was genuinely news to Cangse Sanren - she had never once seen him with one.

He rolled his eyes, looking very put upon.

She shrugged and brushed it off. "A sword is neither here nor there. Plenty of people have other spiritual weapons. But, darling, you're scrupulously careful about never wasting supplies, and making do without whenever you can."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Of course, our resources are limited. Shouldn't I be conscientious?"

"But you use matches to light candles." She nodded toward the small pile of used matches next to the candle on the outcropping of rock he used as a workstation.

“I work late often.” Wei Ying's voice had gone tense and cold.

Carefully, she pressed him, "Why not use your qi to light the candle?” 

“The resentful energy in the cave interferes with minor qi use like that.”

“Wei Ying. Xiǎo háizi. My son. You don't owe me any of your secrets. But please don't lie to your mother.”

He exhaled a tense breath and looked away. “There's nothing wrong, A-Niang. Please let it go.”

“I'll drop it if you want me to. But you should know your father has also noticed you never use spiritual energy, even for the little mundane things. And if we have, others will too, eventually. Like Wen Qing? She knows, doesn't she?”

His knuckles were white where he clutched his flute in a tight fist, but he said nothing.

Troubled by his distress, Cangse Sanren stayed quiet as she set about making them tea with slow, careful movements. When it was ready, she poured two cups, but he did not take the one she offered.  He hadn’t moved an inch the whole time. She set his tea down near him, then sat on the edge of his bed and sipped at her own cup, refusing to let the tension in the room get to her.

"Do you know,” she said eventually, looking at her tea, “the last time your brother was here, he bowed down to me? In place of my shifu, he said.” She looked up at Wei Ying. “To offer his undying gratitude for the miracle Baoshan Sanren had performed to restore his golden core."

She wasn't sure, but it looked like Wei Ying might have stopped breathing. He knew just as well as she did that he had no clue how to find Baoshan Sanren’s mountain.

She took a sip of her tea. “It seems you make a habit of lying to people who love you.”

The fist clutching the flute was trembling now. Resentful energy stirred in the room, roused by its master’s disquiet.

“I don't say this to hurt you, Ying-er,” she said, keeping her voice low and measured. “You're my son. I will always love you, no matter how many secrets you keep, how many lies you tell, no matter how many times you throw yourself headfirst into harm’s way. No matter whether you cultivate or which path you take. No matter what, you are my son. Do you understand?”

She watched silent tears fall from Wei Ying’s downturned face as his hands shook.

“What,” his voice came out scratched, broken. He swallowed, then pushed the words out through gritted teeth. “What did you say to Jiang Cheng.”

“I told him he had no need to kowtow to me, and that my master would be proud of him, of how well he has used the gift he was given.”

Finally, he looked up at her, startled.

“I won't tell a secret that isn't mine to tell, Ying-er. I won't interfere in your life or your choices. I hardly have the right, after leaving you on your own for so many years. And I don’t even really know what it is you’re hiding.”

She sighed, tilting the teacup in her hand and watching the liquid roll in a circle. She stilled her hand and looked across the room, eyes tracing over her son’s belongings, the debris of everyday life and evidence of his genius mind at work, even in this place of death and decay.

Finally, she looked back at Wei Ying, who was watching her closely.

When he still said nothing, Cangse Sanren continued. “But I'll tell you what I see. I see two brothers. One who somehow, inexplicably, gained a golden core. Another who somehow, mysteriously, lost a golden core. Both brothers raised to believe ‘impossible’ is nothing but a dare. Both rescued and given refuge by a doctor with the most brilliant medical mind in a generation.”

Wei Ying stared at her now with wide, vulnerable eyes. A look of being found out. Haunted by the truth.

She looked back at him, hoping he could see all of the love in her eyes. “I also see two brothers hurting. Brothers who have had to hold up the weight of the world on their shoulders when their seniors should have been there to protect them and care for them. Brothers who have seen too much, who have been left with too many scars. Who both want only for their brother to love them and accept them, scars and all. Two brothers terrified more than anything of losing the other.”

As Cangse Sanren spoke, the tension seemed to wilt out of Wei Ying, until she finished speaking and he collapsed beside her on the bed. He hid his face against her shoulder and broke down into sobs. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. Her baby boy, who had been through so much pain. Her foolish, selfless, reckless, wonderful son whom she loved more than anything, who had stolen her whole heart the moment she first laid eyes on him.

“I'm so sorry you're hurting, baby. My Ying-er. I'm sorry for everything you've been through.”

He cried for a long time while she held him and stroked his hair.

When his sobs finally began to lessen, Cangse Sanren tilted her head to kiss his hair. “A-Cheng is hurting too.”

He straightened, the wariness edging back into his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“You've been close your whole lives. Do you really think he can't tell when you're keeping secrets from him? Don't you think you've both been through enough?”

“If he finds out. It will change everything,” Wei Ying said, voice weak and face ashen.

“Maybe. But so will secrets. And Jiang Cheng may be stubborn and thick-headed at times, but he's no fool. It's only a matter of time before he figures it out. The only way to keep your secret would be to cut him out of your life.”

“I'll do whatever it takes to protect him,” said Wei Ying, jaw set with the grim determination Cangse Sanren had seen far too often from him.

“When you made that decision to give away your golden core… was it because of how scared you were to lose him, how even the thought of it hurt so much it was unbearable?” When his eyes met hers, she could see she was right. “I would bet anything your brother feels the same way. I don't believe you would ever want to cause him that kind of pain by cutting him out of your life.”

“But it would destroy him, if he knew the truth. It will destroy him, and I will lose him anyway.”

“Maybe. Or maybe Jiang Cheng is stronger than you think, especially with his brother there to support him. Maybe he will live up to the faith you put in him.”

Wei Ying looked away; he looked exhausted. She decided to have mercy on her son. “You don’t have to make a decision today. Just think about it. Whatever you choose to do, your father and I will stand behind you. Always.”

He swallowed and brushed at the tears lingering on his cheeks, then he looked back at her and nodded. She gave him a soft smile and squeezed his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Ying-er, you know that?”

“A-Niang…”

“Alright, that’s enough heavy stuff for one day.”

When she handed him his teacup again, he accepted it this time. He sipped at it as she poured herself another cup. After a few minutes of lighter, companionable silence, Cangse Sanren glanced around the cave.

“You’ve got all the resentful energy stirred up again,” she observed.

He sighed. “It won’t hurt anyone. I can control it.”

“Sure. But you know who could really help. That nice Lan boy.”

“Lan Zhan has offered to play for me so many times. It’s true that his guqin skills are the best. But I hate feeling like an invalid. And the music doesn’t do as much good as it would if I had a core. If I let him play for me all the time, he’ll notice eventually.”

“Would that be the end of the world, if he knew?”

“Didn’t you say no more heavy stuff today?”

Cangse Sanren patted her son's knee. “Anyway, his guqin skills weren’t what I had in mind.”

“What did you mean then?”

“The symptoms you’re experiencing are mostly caused by imbalance; your spiritual pathways are overwhelmed with more Yin energy than they can handle. If you can restore balance, I think you’ll find the side effects easier to handle.”

“Restore balance? What’s that got to do with Lan Zhan?”

“You desperately need frequent infusions of large doses of Yang energy to balance out the Yin. Darling, few people in the world have as much Yang energy at their disposal as Lan-er-gongzi. He’s among the strongest male cultivators alive.”

“Of course, Lan Zhan is the best. But what’s that got to do with my Yin imbalance?”

“You have Yin. He has Yang. If you cultivate together, you’ll provide balance for each other. I suspect both of you will find your qi becomes more powerful and better controlled.”

“Cultivate together? Like meditating?”

“No, Ying-er, not like meditating.”

She smirked at him, and then laughed as her son flushed beet red when he understood.

Chapter Text

Wei Changze held the talisman up to the light filtering in from the open doorway as he inspected the drying ink. He smiled to himself, anticipating A-Yuan’s glee when he’d reveal the new design later. Satisfied, Wei Changze added it to the growing pile of talismans for A-Yuan and turned his attention to the pile of more practical ones he had started working on for Jiang Yanli. She had taken to writing to “A-Xian and Wei-shushu” with common household inconveniences, offering subtle challenges to invent more workaday talismans that would make life easier for the Lotus Pier staff and day-to-day operations of the sect. He started sketching out a design for a talisman meant to release wrinkles out of fabric while he let his mind wander.

Wei Changze loved to get these letters from Jiang Yanli, and he loved even more that she called him Shushu. He was relieved he had been allowed some role in supporting his former sect and the children of his closest friend, whom his son also claimed as siblings.  Wei Changze worried about them, left to run a great sect on their own. They had risen to the challenge, but the weight of duty was still heavy on their shoulders. Behind Jiang Cheng’s glower and Jiang Yanli’s soft smiles, Wei Changze could see in their faces the same shadow of grief that made his own sleep restless.

He knew now he had taken for granted that Lotus Pier and his sect family would always be there, waiting to welcome him back home whenever he returned. Now, almost everyone he had known and loved were gone.

So he held his wife tighter at night and daily thanked the gods and ancestors he was here to stand at Wei Ying’s side. He dearly hoped Wei Ying would never again feel alone in the world. But while Wei Ying had miraculously had his parents returned to him, the Jiang children were still on their own. It was a knowledge that weighed on Wei Changze, sodden with grief and a measure of guilt. He knew, after all, Jiang Fengmian had expected him to always be at Lotus Pier, serving as his right-hand man. But then Cangse Sanren had asked Wei Changze to be her cultivation partner, and how could he ever regret his choice to follow the love of his life across the Jianghu?

Only occasionally, in the dead of night, he wondered if it might have all been different. If he and Cangse Sanren had stayed at Lotus Pier, could they have turned the tide of the battle when the Wen attacked? Would his best friend and his sect still be alive?

But such questions were useless. He could never be away from Cangse Sanren, and Cangse Sanren was a wild thing, never meant to be tamed or caged. He had only to remember Bai Sichun, and how the lively, ambitious woman who had been Cangse Sanren’s dearest friend seemed to whither away and vanish after being shut away as Madam Lan.  Cangse Sanren’s grief and fury had been a palpable, bitter tang in the air, at her friend being kept locked away as her spirit died. Wei Changze had no doubt that if Cangse Sanren had likewise been confined to Lotus Pier back then, no good could have come of it.

His wife needed to be free. And yet how long had she now spent here, trapped among these dead hills? He couldn’t change the past. But he could change the future. The stage was already set; at the very first chance, they would be ready to leave the Burial Mounds. Wei Changze would make sure of it.

His attention was pulled from his work and his thoughts by a knock at the door. He looked up to find Wen Ning in the doorway, A-Yuan on his hip with one tiny fist in his mouth. Wen Ning glanced at the empty seat where Wei Ying often joined Wei Changze before asking, “Have you seen Wei-xiong?”

Wei Changze gave a little shrug and let a knowing smile turn up the corner of his mouth. “Oh, Lan Wangji arrived a bit ago. They went off together somewhere. Probably checking the outer wards.”

He thought he saw something soften in Wen Ning’s stiff face. “Lan-er-gongzi worries over Wei-xiong’s safety. He always wants to make sure the wards are secure when he visits.” Wen Ning glanced at A-Yuan. “Just…Wei-xiong said he would watch A-Yuan this afternoon while I help Sishu with the new roof.”

Wei Changze stood and picked up A-Yuan out of Wen Ning’s arms, smiling warmly at the little boy who had so quickly stolen all of their hearts. “Lucky me, I was just in need of an assistant. I have some new talismans – will you help me with my experiments and see if they work?”

A-Yuan’s face split into a wide grin, but Wen Ning’s eyes seemed vaguely disconcerted at this proposition.

“What do they do?” asked A-Yuan with wide eyes. “Are they for catching monsters? Or heating up soup? Or turning my hair blue?”

Wei Changze laughed again. “Well, we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?”

Looking over A-Yuan’s head, Wei Changze winked. Wen Ning relaxed a bit and gave him a nod before heading out to find Fourth Uncle.

By the time Cangse Sanren found them, Wei Changze had laid out several rows of new talismans on the ground and he and A-Yuan were taking turns throwing rocks at them. She walked up as one hit, and a flurry of little sparks like fireflies erupted into the sky.

“Auntie, Auntie, look!” A-Yuan yelled excitedly, running to her so he could pull her over by the hand. “We’re doing spearmints!”

Cangse Sanren looked very amused at this. “I was wondering where my fine husband had got off to. I feared he might be lazing about and shirking his duties, but I see now he had very serious business to attend to.”

“We have to find out what they do! Watch me, Auntie!”

“I’m watching!”

With the encouragement, A-Yuan started tossing rocks at the grid of papers on the ground. When one hit, a cloud of purple smoke billowed out, sending A-Yuan into peals of laughter.

Cangse Sanren laughed too, though Wei Changze noticed a subtle tightness lingered around her eyes.

“Wow, that’s amazing A-Yuan!” said Cangse Sanren, smiling proudly at the boy. “What do you call that one?”

A-Yuan looked curiously at Wei Changze, but he shrugged. “You’re the one that discovered it. In the science world, that means you get to name it. What does A-Yuan say this talisman should be called?”

The little boy thought very seriously for a moment before announcing, “Magic Purple.”

Cangse Sanren nodded appreciatively. “An excellent name. I’ll have to learn that one so I can start carrying the Magic Purple Talisman with me.”

“Really, Auntie?! Would you use it?”

“If my A-Yuan discovered it and named it, of course I would use it. That’s a very special talisman.”

A-Yuan beamed.

Wei Changze laid a gentle hand on A-Yuan’s fluffy head. “Auntie came just in time. That was the last one for today’s experiment.”

Before A-Yuan could look too crestfallen, Cangse Sanren added, “I was hoping to find someone who likes stories. I heard a good one the other day.”

“I like stories!”

“How perfect! Let’s go inside where we can rest out of the sun for a while, shall we?”

After two boisterous stories from Cangse Sanren and a long, soothing, boring one from Wei Changze, A-Yuan was down for his nap in his little bed.

The two adults stepped back outside, and Wei Changze softly closed the door behind them. He then snagged Cangse Sanren around the waist, pulling her into him with one arm as he leaned back against the wall of the little hut.  With his other hand, he cupped her jaw, bringing her closer as he kissed her. When she melted into him, he smiled into the kiss and then deepened it.

Only when he had kissed her breathless did he pull back just enough to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

Cangse Sanren blinked up at him, a little hazy. “Not that I'm complaining, but what was all that for?”

“Do I need a reason to kiss my breathtaking wife?”

“No, you don’t need one. But you have one.”

As he gazed into her perceptive dark eyes, his soul felt settled and safe, secure in the knowledge that they would always see each other. That in his arms was the one who knew him.

Wei Changze touched their foreheads together. “You seemed stressed. You want to talk about it?”

She sighed a little. “Maybe. But it’s nap time. Let’s rest a little, yeah?”

She took him by the hand, and they meandered over to a tree nearby that produced sour, shriveled fruits but cast a pleasant shade.

Cangse Sanren sat down under it and started to sprawl out, before looking back up at Wei Changze, a playfully betrayed look on her face. “Changze, it’s nap time. Would you really deny me my pillow?”

Wei Changze chuckled, endless adoration circling in his chest as he sat down beside her and leaned back against the tree. He smiled again as Cangse Sanren made herself comfortable, resting her head on his lap. Gently, he pulled out the pin holding her back her long tresses and started carding his fingers through her hair. She closed her eyes and sighed a contented little sigh.

After a few moments of nothing but a slight breeze jostling the leaves above them, Cangse Sanren asked, “When is Jiang Cheng getting here?”

“Should be any time now.”

Cangse Sanren blinked up at him, emotion behind her bright eyes. “I think Wei Ying might tell him today.”

Wei Changze let out a ragged breath and nodded, his fingers still sliding through the silky strands of her hair. “It could be a difficult day. Is that what you’ve been worried about?”

“I love my son and nephew both. But it’s so hard to imagine Jiang Cheng will take this well. I think about how hard it’s been for me to accept it, and I wasn’t even involved.”

“I know,” he replied softly. “Me too.” Wei Changze thought of all the broken bits and pieces of Wei Ying’s story that bubbled up through Wei Ying’s lips sometimes when they were alone, and tears pricked his eyes. His son had suffered through far, far too much.

“Do you ever think,” said Cangse Sanren softly, “Maybe he didn't think it was such a big deal because he never expected to live this long anyway?”

“Maybe. They were in the middle of a war. With everything that happened, it really is a miracle he survived until now.” He closed his eyes, and a tear slipped free and fell down his cheek. Wei Changze had nightmares, sometimes, that he was never reunited with his son. That he couldn’t escape the spider demon’s cave, or Wei Ying was killed, or any of a thousand other scenarios that could have so easily kept them apart.

He felt gentle, calloused fingers brush the tears from his cheek. He opened his eyes to meet his wife’s knowing gaze as her thumb skimmed over his cheekbone. “But he did. He’s just fine. And he has us now. We’re not going to miss anything else from his life, and we’ll never let anything bad happen to him ever again.”

Wei Changze smiled a little wanly. “We will always protect him. But we might be setting ourselves up for failure if we expect to keep him from every bad thing in life.”

“Don’t you think the universe owes us, after everything our family has been through? It’s about time we got a few decades of uninterrupted joy.”

“I agree. But we might have to make that happen for ourselves; I don’t trust the fates with my family’s safety and happiness. After all, fate dumped us here,” said Wei Changze, with a pointed look around them.

Cangse Sanren hummed thoughtfully. “It’s about time we get serious about a life-after-the-Burial Mounds plan, isn’t it?”

He went back to stroking her hair, quiet for a moment. Finally, he said, “Wen Qing spoke to me earlier.”

“I’m not surprised she’s ahead of us on the planning,” said Cangse Sanren a little wryly.

“She asked me…if we could help make sure A-Yuan has a home. A family.”

Cangse Sanren frowned. “He has so much family here.”

“Apparently none that are confident they can provide everything he needs. And Wen Qing and her family are afraid that if he is known as a Wen, his whole life will be lived in danger and trial. She said he would be safer with a new name.” Wei Changze met his wife’s eyes. “She hinted that maybe we could adopt him.”

Cangse Sanren’s eyes widened a bit at that, before turning troubled. “If he needs somewhere to go, of course we would take him. I just…” She sighed. “What if Wei Ying…A-Yuan is so close to the age Wei Ying was. What if it seems like we're trying to replace him?” Cangse Sanren looked up at Wei Changze with something like heartbreak and desperation in her eyes.

She shook her head lightly. “I couldn’t bear hurting our son again. And we'd only ever planned on having one child. Only one, so we could shower him with all our love and attention and care and he would never lack for anything.” Her voice caught at the end, and she closed her eyes again against the regret Wei Changze knew so often dogged her steps and choked her throat.

Wanting to move his wife out of this place of emotional darkness, Wei Changze replied, “True. But we had hoped for lots of grandchildren.”

She blinked up at him. “Grandchildren?” She sat up quickly next to him and looked at him. “Do you think...?”

“You've seen the three of them together. They make a beautiful family. And they are already devoted to each other.”

“I'm not sure they are ready to be parents though. They’re so young!”

“When is a first-time parent ever ready? But we would be there to support them however they need. And then A-Yuan would have strong ties to both Gusu Lan and Yunmeng Jiang. No one would dare ever speak against him.”

“You’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?” She read his affirmative in his eyes and nodded herself, thoughtfully. “It does seem like it would be the best thing for A-Yuan. We may need to give the boys a little more time to get there, and to make their own decision. But we can tell Wen Qing that one way or another, we'll guarantee A-Yuan has devoted parents and a new name and we'll look for a way to get him out of here as fast as we can.”

Wei Changze found her hand on the ground between them and threaded their fingers together. “Public sentiment is shifting. My bet is we’ll have this behind us soon. Not much longer before we can rejoin society, and make sure everyone is properly taken care of.”

“You know, A-Yuan isn't the only one who needs parents. Seems like there is a whole generation of orphans out there now, lacking in maternal education and fatherly hugs.”

“We can't be parents to everyone.” She shot him a sideways glance, and he continued with a sly smile tucked into the corner of his mouth. “But we could always use more nieces and nephews.”

She looked down at their joined hands and smiled, soft and heartfelt. “With an ever-expanding family, sounds like we'll have our hands full.”

Wei Changze squeezed her hand. “But it sounds like a good life, doesn't it?”

“Mn. It does.” She laughed a little and leaned her head back against the tree beside him. “Strange that I'm considering life as a grandmother. I still feel like I'm 28.”

He watched her face, troubled as something dark passed over it.

Cangse Sanren looked back at him. “I can't stand the thought that since he lost his core, we're going to outlive him.”

“Not necessarily. The two of us have a track record of finding plenty of mortal danger to fall into.”

She gave a little huff, but still looked solemn. “Changze, I keep thinking about that story he told Jiang Cheng, turning it over and over in my head. My Shifu’s rule is to never come back to the mountain. But she would have a soft spot for Wei Ying. He grew up an orphan, and I was her favorite. If she hears about everything that happened…What if…what if there is something she can do?”

Wei Changze’s eyes widened. “Do you think she could?”

“I honestly don't know if she could help or not. A golden core is…a big ask. But I don't think she would turn me away. And I don’t think I’ll be able to live with myself if I don’t at least try.”

Wei Changze nodded his support and squeezed her hand again, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, they were interrupted by loud shouts coming from the path down the mountain.

They exchanged a glance.

“Ah. Jiang Cheng has arrived.”

They had just pulled themselves to their feet and pinned Cangse Sanren’s hair back up when Jiang Cheng emerged on the path among the trees, dragging a pink-cheeked, red-lipped Wei Ying by the ear. Wei Ying was hurriedly adjusting his robes and straightening his belt as Jiang Cheng continued to yell at him, though Wei Ying was fighting a smirk and losing badly.

“God fucking dammit, Wei Wuxian! You knew I was coming to visit today, why would you make me witness your debauchery? Have a little dignity!”

Lan Wangji – with equally kiss-bitten lips, though considerably more composed – followed behind them, picking leaves out of Wei Ying’s mussed hair and frowning at Jiang Cheng.

Cangse Sanren leaned towards Wei Changze and whispered, “At least Wangji and Ying-er seem to have worked things out.”

Wei Changze smiled softly and gave her arm a gentle squeeze, though his eyes were still watching the newly arrived Jiang Cheng for any signs of weapons being drawn. His nephew could be…prickly.

“And you!” Jiang Cheng turned on Lan Wangji. “Who knew a Lan could be so shameless? For fuck’s sake, have a little propriety around my brother!”

“Welcome, Jiang-zongzhu,” said Wei Changze as he and his wife made pointed bows at the scuffling boys. “Our humble village is honored by your visit.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes, before jolting a little and scowling down at his leg – where a sleepy A-Yuan was now plastered to his shin.

“Aiyah, Jiang Cheng, you woke up the baby with all your shouting!” Wei Ying bent down and picked up A-Yuan.

A-Yuan went easily into Wei Ying’s arms but pouted back at him. “I’m not a baby. YuanYuan is three.”

Wei Ying looked startled and then laughed a little helplessly. “Of course. A-Yuan is a big boy,” he said, still looking a little lost.

Wei Changze wondered if he was thinking of Jiang Yanli. The last time she had visited and they had dinner together in town, she had humored Wei Ying and booped his nose when he said something similar. She clearly doted on him. But at times like that, she seemed more like a mother than a sister, and Wei Changze wondered just how much fell on her shoulders, even before the war.

Wei Ying was still chattering at A-Yuan, but his sight had drifted somewhere far away.

Wei Changze glanced at Lan Wangji, and he had clearly noticed the same thing.

“Wei Ying,” he said. When Wei Ying met his gaze, a silent conversation passed between them, and Lan Wangji frowned.

Wei Ying blinked and looked down. “YuanYuan, do you want to play with Pretty-gege for a while? I need to talk to Purple-gege.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes at the appellation. A-Yuan grinned and clapped gleefully as Lan Wangji obediently took him from Wei Ying’s arms, but that little crease was still set between Lan Wangji’s brows.

Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren exchanged their own silent, concerned conversation as Wei Ying pulled Jiang Cheng aside down the path where they could speak privately.

“We could make tea, so it’s ready.”

Cangse Sanren shook her head. “I think we’re going to need something a lot stronger than that.”

Together they walked towards the great hall to look for a stash of Fourth Uncle’s fruit wine. They had just pulled out a bottle and set it on a table when they heard shouting again. With a quick glance exchanged, the two of them raced out of the hall and down the path toward the boys.

When they found them, Jiang Cheng’s face was nearly as purple as his robes, and he had furious tears in his eyes as he stared at Wei Ying. Wei Ying was looking at the ground, his shoulders hunched into himself.

“You idiot!” Jiang Cheng was screaming. “You complete fucking moron! I lost my golden core protecting you. How dare you risk your life trying to give it back!”

Wei Ying’s attention swung up at that, but he didn’t have a chance to speak as Jiang Cheng barreled on in his tirade. “What the fuck! How completely asinine do you have to be, that’s so fucking twisted. My sacrifice was worth so little to you, huh, you were ready to just throw it away? You think I would rather have a golden core than my brother? Is that really what you think of me?”

“What are you talking about?” Wei Ying replied when Jiang Cheng took a breath. “That’s not it at all. I just knew …I couldn’t let you die, Jiang Cheng. Not when I knew there was still a chance, when I could still do something about it.”

Jiang Cheng took several furious breaths as he crossed his arms and looked away, tension in every line of his body. Wei Ying stared at him, looking as lost and distraught as Wei Changze had ever seen him.

Jiang Cheng blinked with a look of sudden realization, and then another wave of ire rolled across his features like thunder. He looked back at Wei Ying to yell again. “So when you broke your promise, it was to run away with the woman who performed non-consensual surgery on me? What in the ever-loving-hell, Wei Wuxian?!”

“The woman who saved your life! Who saved all of us!” Wei Ying shouted back.

“So this is what you meant?! When you promised that when I was sect leader, you would stand by me as my right hand, like my father and your father? This is what it means to you to be the Yunmeng Shuangjie? Making choices about my life without consulting me? Lying, keeping secrets? Running away when things get tough?”

“That’s not…”

“That’s what you promised me, Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng cried, tears rolling down his face. “Like your father and my father. And you fucking left. Just threw it all in my face and fucking left. Is it really so hard to trust me?”

Wei Ying closed his eyes, forehead creased in pain, as a tear slipped down his own cheek. “I’m sorry, Jiang Cheng. I’m sorry I broke my promise to you.”

“Did you though?” Cangse Sanren cut in suddenly.

“What?”

Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying looked startled to realize they had an audience, and both looked at Cangse Sanren a little dazedly. Wei Changze frowned, unsure where she was going with this.

“It sounds to me,” said Cangse Sanren, crossing her arms briefly before uncrossing them again so she could gesture animatedly, “like Wei Ying did follow in his father’s footsteps. I mean, he grew up in the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, best friends with the Jiang heir. And then became his assistant when the heir became the new leader of Lotus Pier, only to give up his position beside the Lotus Throne a few months later so he could follow a beautiful woman of questionable reputation out into the Jianghu, only to end up stuck in the Burial Mounds.”

“Cangse…” Wei Changze said softly, trying not to cringe.

She looked at him with insistent eyebrows. “Honey, the similarity is uncanny.”

“A-Se, my love, you are so not helping right now.”

She shrugged. “I’m just saying. If his promise was to be Jiang Cheng’s right hand the way you were Fengmian’s, he nailed it. He kept his promise. Unfortunately for Jiang Cheng, you were a terrible right hand, so that didn’t work out so well for either of our dear Sect Leaders Jiang.”

Wei Changze sighed, but knew there was no hiding the helpless fondness on his face as he looked at his wife.

Well. At least the boys had stopped yelling. They were both staring at Cangse Sanren. Jiang Cheng looking incredulous and likely a little offended; Wei Ying looked like he might break out into hysteric laughter at any moment.

Then Jiang Cheng’s jaw clenched, and fury flashed across his face. With a snarl and a dramatic swirl of his violet cape, he stalked off up the path back towards the settlement.

“Ah, fuck,” said Cangse Sanren, her eyes widening as she looked after Jiang Cheng’s retreating back. “That was the wrong thing to say, wasn't it?”

“Mn," Wei Changze agreed.

“Changze?” Cangse Sanren implored. He met her pleading gaze and gave her an understanding nod, before turning to go after the youngest and angriest of the Jiang children.

Wei Changze followed Jiang Cheng as he skirted the edge of the settlement, headed towards the creek where they drew their water.

“Jiang Cheng,” he called, and was ignored. He tried a couple more times, before finally saying, “A-Cheng, wait.”

Jiang Cheng pulled up short but didn’t turn around.

“Where are you going?” Wei Changze asked as he caught up.

“To find Wen Qing and make her give it back,” Jiang Cheng replied tightly, through gritted teeth.

“What?”

“She put this thing in me, and she can damn well take it out again!”

Jiang Cheng took a step forward again, but Wei Changze stopped him with a light hand on his arm, stepping around him to see his face. Jiang Cheng shrugged the hand off and looked away, but he didn’t keep walking.

“A-Cheng, just listen for a moment. I understand you’re upset, and you have every right to be. But it sounds like the issue with the core is not what you’re most upset about. You've been feeling angry and betrayed because you believed Wei Ying broke his promise to you, right?”

Jiang Cheng made a low growly sound in his throat and crossed his arms tightly.

Wei Changze kept his voice steady and gentle. “For a moment forget the ridiculous things my lovely wife just said, I can tell you she didn’t mean anything by it.”

Jiang Cheng’s jaw clenched again, but he gave a half-hearted eyeroll, so Wei Changze continued.

“What Wei Ying really promised was to be with you always, right? That’s what you both understood it to mean?”

Jiang Cheng looked at the ground, but Wei Changze could still see the hurt and grief in his eyes.

“Listen,” Wei Changze pressed. “Wei Ying kept that promise too, you just couldn't have known before now. He never left you.”

Jiang Cheng looked at him, incredulous, and opened his mouth to speak, but Wei Changze hurried on before he got the chance.

“His love for you has always been right there,” Wei Changze insisted, gesturing toward the young man’s middle. “Your brother’s love will always be here, glowing and warm and real, pulsing right there in your lower dantian - protecting you and supporting you and strengthening you every day, every moment of your life. That's your brother’s love.”

Wei Changze searched Jiang Cheng’s face, but the young man looked a little like he'd just been slapped.

Wei Changze set a light hand on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, and considered it a good sign when it wasn’t immediately shaken off again. “When the future was uncertain, Wei Ying found a way to ensure that no matter what happened, he would always be there for you. With his support, you’ve led the Yunmeng Jiang to greatness. Together, you’ve accomplished the impossible. Truly, the Yunmeng Shuangjie.”

Jiang Cheng’s face softened, though he was still frowning.

“A-Cheng, don't ask him to take back a gift like that. Don't ask him to break his promise now after he tried so hard to keep it.”

A flurry of emotions crossed Jiang Cheng’s face, and that seemed to make him angrier. Wei Changze watched him process it all, his own heart hurting.

Eventually Jiang Cheng seemed to swallow most of the emotions down, and said in a wet, unsteady voice, “But what if. What if he didn't do it out of love. What if he...” Jiang Cheng scowled and scuffed his boot in the dirt. “Wei Wuxian always felt he owed a great debt to my family. For finding him, and raising him, training him and giving him a home. What if he did it all out of debt and obligation, because he believed it was what he owed to Yunmeng Jiang?” Jiang Cheng’s face blanched at his own words, like he might be sick at the thought.

Wei Changze weighed his words carefully. "People will sometimes go to great lengths for duty and honor, that's true. But something like this." He shook his head gently. "To so quietly make such a sacrifice. To achieve the impossible and survive the unsurvivable.  Only the truest kind of love can drive the depths of creativity and courage needed to succeed. There's no other way. It has to be love."

Finally, Jiang Cheng looked up and met Wei Changze’s eye, something small and vulnerable in his gaze. “But now that he's made such a sacrifice. How can I ever hope to repay him?”

Wei Changze let out his breath and took a step closer, setting a hand on each of Jiang Cheng’s shoulders, hoping to steady him, ground him. Help him remember he wasn’t alone.

“A-Cheng, the gift Wei Ying gave you was love for his brother. That's the only thing you can give in return. And I hope you will. A brother’s love is a priceless gift, and you’re the only brother he’s got.”

Sensing his nephew needed some time to process everything now that he had calmed down a little, Wei Changze gave Jiang Cheng’s shoulders a soft, reassuring squeeze and then left him to his thoughts.

Wei Changze returned to the great hall to find Cangse Sanren and Wei Ying drinking fruit wine in morbid silence. Wei Changze shook his head and took a seat beside them. A room with these two, his favorite people, ought never be silent like this.

It was another hour before Jiang Cheng turned up again, eyes red from crying, a fresh scowl printed on his face.

When he turned narrowed eyes on Wei Ying, Wei Ying hurriedly stood, a little unsteadily, worry and hope warring in his bright eyes.

A muscle in Jiang Cheng’s jaw jumped, and then he took a breath and let it out. “Don't you ever, ever pull something like this again. Do you fucking hear me?”

Wei Wuxian held up three fingers beside his head. “Jiang Cheng. I solemnly swear, I will never, ever again give away a golden core.”

“You-!”

“A-Ying,” Wei Changze said softly, as Cangse Sanren nudged their son’s shoulder.

Wei Ying nodded and sighed. “Yeah, Jiang Cheng. I know what you mean.”

“Just.” Jiang Cheng huffed. “Fucking talk to me first? Before you do something drastic. Don’t... Don’t leave me behind. Do you trust me at least that much?”

“Always, Jiang Cheng,” said Wei Ying, for once with complete sincerity.

Jiang Cheng was still staring at a spot on the far wall. He sucked his teeth and then shook his head with a weary sigh. “God help my disciples, with only a da-shixiong Iike you to look up to.”

“Shidi?” asked Wei Ying, hope and doubt in his voice.

“Bendan,” Jiang Cheng said and rolled his eyes.

Wei Ying smiled. Apparently, a loving insult meant all was forgiven.

Cangse Sanren smiled, too, and said, “Go on already.”

Both boys looked at her in question.

“Hug already! Heavens know you both need it.”

Wei Changze’s heart still hurt a little at how vulnerable they both looked as they eyed each other, and then Jiang Cheng pulled Wei Ying into a fierce bear hug and Wei Ying's answering smile lit up the sky.

Cangse Sanren hummed with satisfaction. “Well, now that that’s taken care of. A-Cheng, you’ll stay for dinner won’t you? It should be ready soon.”

Jiang Cheng stepped back a step and dashed the last tears from his eyes as he shook his head. “No, I can't stay. I have to get back to Lotus Pier, I have way too much to do.”

“Why, what's going on?” Wei Ying asked, frowning.

Jiang Cheng looked at him. “I came to tell you. A-Jie is getting married, in two months.”

“Ah?!” said Wei Ying, shock in his eyes that then drifted into grim resignation. “So, the Peacock finally got his head out of his ass, huh?”

“Watch your mouth, you’re going to have to start being nice to him.”

“I guess so, for Shijie.”

“Not just that. He wanted me to give you this,” said Jiang Cheng, handing over an envelope. “An invitation for the Wei family.”

Wei Ying’s eyes flew wide as he tore open the envelope and scanned the invitation inside, hope rising like the dawn on his face.

Jiang Cheng tilted his chin up at his brother. “Try to stay out of trouble until then, Jin Zixuan stuck his neck out for you to get you and your parents on the guest list.”

Still staring at the invitation in his shaking hands, Wei Ying replied, “If the Peacock is the reason I get to go to Shijie's wedding, I won't make fun of him for a whole year!”

Jiang Cheng scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You can start by not calling him ‘Peacock’.  And don't embarrass me at the wedding. Jiejie’s wedding has to be perfect. No surprises. No making a scene. No scuffles with the family of the groom.” He gave Wei Ying a warning look, which Wei Ying waved off with a laugh.

Cangse Sanren smiled at them. “Don't worry, A-Cheng. I'll keep an eye on my boy. We’ll all be on our best behavior.”

The weeks leading up to the wedding passed in a blur of anticipation and preparation. When the day finally arrived, Wei Ying was a jittery mess of nerves and excitement to see his sister again – and step back into the eyes of society.

Wei Changze found Cangse Sanren and Wei Ying gathered in front of the hall, all three of them adorned in new clothes. Wei Ying was talking with Wen Ning and seemed shocked to learn Wen Ning would not be coming. It seemed he’d gotten used to Wen Ning following him everywhere.

Wen Ning wrung his hands. “Ah, Wei-xiong…I’m not sure it’s appropriate.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not really polite to bring a fierce corpse to a wedding, you know?”

Wei Ying looked indignant. “You’re a person, and a friend of the bride! And besides, aren’t you a good deterrent? Who would dare to stir up trouble with me if you’re beside me?”

“Wei-xiong…your mother is a lot scarier than I am. Besides, this way I can stay and protect the Burial Mounds. You can rest easy that everyone here will be safe.”

“Oh. I guess that’s a good point. Anyway, we shouldn’t be gone too long. We’ll be back before you know it.”

Wei Changze wondered if Wei Ying said it to reassure his friend or himself.

Wen Ning just nodded. “Tell Jiang-guniang congratulations from all of us.”

The road to Lanling was long and dusty, but the three were in high spirits at their first opportunity to travel together. Among the three of them, they made observations about the towns they passed (Wei Changze), gushed about how beautiful Jiang Yanli would be in her wedding dress (Wei Ying), and speculated about lengths the Jin might go to in order to solidify their status as the gaudiest, most ostentatious sect in the Jianghu (Cangse Sanren).

It was a pleasant journey, until the road turned, and they neared Qiongqi Path.

“This place gives me the ick,” said Wei Ying with a little shiver.

Wei Changze found he had to agree. There was something unsettling about the way the steep bluffs rose around the barren valley where the road angled through.    

Cangse Sanren’s head tilted, a look in her eye that made Wei Changze immediately more alert – she had noticed something. They were in the center of the valley now, and he scanned the dry, vacant land around them, but found nothing to see.

Wei Ying caught the change in their energy and said, “What-“

“Shh,” said his mother. “Listen.”

Wei Ying listened for a moment but then shook his head. “It's silent.” He frowned, then started to look increasingly distressed. “Totally silent. I can't hear any dead at all. Something is wrong. How could there be nothing?”

A whisper of displaced air, and Cangse Sanren’s sword flashed, her sword glare knocking a flying arrow to the ground.

“An ambush!”

Wei Changze drew his sword and pushed Wei Ying behind his parents. On the bluff high above them, a host of cultivators in various uniforms emerged and looked down at the trio with animus and weapons aimed.

Leading them was Jin Zixun, bow in hand, smug expression on his face. Wei Changze’s heart sank like a rock to the pit of his stomach.

Beside him, he saw Cangse Sanren’s eyes land on Jin Zixun leading the crowd, and her lovely face twisted into a furious snarl.  “Oh, hell no!”

Before Jin Zixun could even open his mouth to speak, Cangse Sanren was leaping up the bluff to face him, bared sword in hand.

In an instant, Wei Changze turned and shoved Wei Ying with the full strength of his spiritual power, sending his core-less son flying a hundred yards until he landed sprawled behind a boulder at the edge of the valley. Wei Changze tossed a talisman after him that blazed into a temporary ward around Wei Ying to block the rain of arrows, and then Wei Changze was dashing after Cangse Sanren.

On the day they made their bows, Wei Changze had held his new wife’s small, strong hands in his, looked into her bright eyes, and vowed to spend the rest of his life following wherever she may lead. Down any road. Into any battle. To the ends of the earth. For as long as this husband had breath in his body, the world could be certain that wherever Cangse Sanren was found, there would be Wei Changze standing behind her.

As Wei Changze followed his indomitable, untamable wife up the bluff to land among a legion of attacking cultivators, he searched his heart and found no regrets. Much like on his wedding day, Wei Changze had only one thought in his mind: “She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’m the luckiest man alive.”

Chapter Text

Everyone said today was supposed to be the happiest day of his life. Until a few hours ago, Jin Zixuan had believed them. For weeks, he had been counting down the days until his wedding, when he would get to begin a new life as a married man, forever at the side of the woman he loved.

As the clouds of billowing purple smoke dissipated, his eyes skipped across the throng of alarmed banqueters until they fixed on Jiang Yanli. At the sight of his fiancée’s terrified face, Jin Zixuan could only hope he somehow lived long enough to take his bows.

He winced as Cangse Sanren tightened her hold on him and pushed him into the room through the blown-open doors of Pageant Hall. Wei Wuxian and Wei Changze, gripping a bound Jin Zixun tightly by the arm, followed close behind.

When the cultivators in the hall saw Cangse Sanren’s bared sword at the Jin heir’s neck, the room was filled with the sound of scraping metal as dozens of swords were drawn at once.

“Stop!” his mother yelled, real fear in her eyes like Jin Zixuan had never seen before. “For gods’ sake, put your weapons away! Can’t you see he’s being held hostage? Don’t hurt him!”

“A-Xuan!” Jiang Yanli stood next to his mother, face pale and drawn, utterly incongruous with her joyous robes of red and gold and the glimmering jewels adorning her hair. He watched her eyes take in the disarray of the newcomers, their clothes stained with dirt and blood, before landing, horrified, on the sword at his neck.

“I’m okay,” Jin Zixuan mouthed to her. He thought it was even true. He did not believe Cangse Sanren had any real intention of harming him. Probably.

Jin Guangshan hadn’t moved from his seat on the dais at the front of the room. He waved a hand for the others to sheathe their swords, but he looked angry. As the chaos of the room began to still, he bellowed, “What is the meaning of this?!”

“Jin Guangshan!” hissed Cangse Sanren, uncomfortably close to Jin Zixuan’s ear. “You should have known if you came for my son, I’d come for yours.” As she said it, the edge of her sword bit into his skin, and Jin Zixuan felt a drop of blood slide down his neck. 

Perhaps he had been overly optimistic regarding her intentions. His heart hammered as he tried to hold absolutely still, hardly daring to breathe.

“Who wants to come for your son? No one cares about a rogue cultivator playing farmer in a graveyard,” Jin Guangshan said, affecting a bored air.

“The Yunmeng Jiang take offense at that, sir,” said Jiang Wanyin, surprising Jin Zixuan. Since when did Jiang Wanyin have the nerve to backtalk a senior sect leader? “Wei Wuxian is my disciple. He is not a rogue cultivator at all.”

“Jiang Cheng, that’s really not necessary,” said Wei Wuxian from where he stood behind Cangse Sanren. He sounded as if he had a hand half over his face, like he was embarrassed.

“What the hell happened?” Jiang Wanyin looked angry, but as that was his default state, Jin Zixuan didn’t know if it was significant.

There was a rustle behind them as if Wei Wuxian made a move to step forward, but Cangse Sanren blocked his path, dragging Jin Zixuan with her further into the middle of the room.

“This asshole,” Cangse Sanren began, her sword leaving Jin Zixuan’s neck for a moment as she used it to gesture towards his bound cousin, “has baselessly accused my son of cursing him. Despite knowing such an accusation is easily disproven!" The sword settled back at his neck, her arm heavy across his chest. "Everyone knows Hundred Holes Curse leaves rebound marks on the caster, yet instead of looking for evidence, he ambushed us at Qiongqi Path. We were invited to this wedding, and yet our hosts have tried to murder us. I have to say, Guangshan, I am not impressed by Jinlintai’s idea of hospitality.” 

Scandalized whispers and murmurs filled the room at the unthinkable taboo.

“I have to say, I find this all a bit hard to believe,” Sect Leader Yao called out.

“Indeed,” chimed in Sect Leader Ouyang. “Does anyone here believe Jin Zixun would attempt to go up against Cangse Sanren and the Yiling Laozu by himself?”

Scattered snickers sounded among the whispers of horror and excitement.

“Maybe if he had the advantage of surprise.”

“Seems unlikely.”

“Have you noticed lately, every occasion at Jinlintai is more eventful than the last?”

“He wasn’t alone,” cut in Cangse Sanren, in such a tone that Jin Zixuan assumed she was rolling her eyes. “Hey asshole, how many cultivators did you bring with you?”

Jin Zixun glared at her but did not reply.

“I asked you a question.”

Before his bratty cousin could escalate the conflict, Jin Zixuan said, “I saw about three hundred cultivators with him when I arrived.”

“Well where are they?” asked Jin Guangshan with narrowed eyes. “So many witnesses would surely only help your case.”

“Ying-er, if you would.”

Wei Wuxian stepped forward between his parents and their respective hostages, and he promptly upended a qiankun pouch in front of himself. A flood of assorted swords and spiritual weapons spilled out over the floor with a raucous clanging.

“What have you done?!” Now Jin Guangshan was on his feet.

Cangse Sanren looked at him darkly. “Was I unclear, last time, when I said what would happen to anyone who came after my son?”

A chill slipped down Jin Zixuan's spine at the coolness of her tone, and gasps of horror, fear, and disbelief filled the room.

“You mean…”

“Did they murder them all?”

“Does she mean to kill us too?”

Wei Changze spoke up then. “They are alive. And they will remain so, as long as this situation is resolved satisfactorily in the next, oh, hmm…Ying-er, how long would you say that net will hold up against all those fierce corpses?”

“Oh, a good four hours or so,” replied Wei Ying, crossing his arms. He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Unless something stirs them up and they get angry.”

“But you’ve left our disciples unarmed!” shouted a furious sect leader.

“When we finish up here,” said Wei Changze impassively, “we’ll tell you where they are. We’ll even go back and clean up the rest of the mess for you. Your disciples will be fine.”

“And if these discussions don’t go your way?” demanded Jin Guangshan.

“I guess you’ll probably find them eventually, but by then the mess will be…” Wei Changze pursed his lips and winced a little. “…messier.”

New murmurs broke out across the room, but Jin Guangshan spoke over them. “You intend to threaten me into submission, before the entire Jianghu?” He sat back in his seat and scoffed, his face cold. “The Lanling Jin Sect does not negotiate with terrorists.”

Jin Zixuan’s stomach dropped.

“You hear that, sweetheart?” Cangse Sanren stage-whispered into Jin Zixuan's ear, sending more shivers down his spine. “Your father is just going to let me kill you.”

He felt another drop of blood trickle down his neck, and his hands went clammy.

“Stop this!” shouted Jin Zixuan’s mother with a glancing glare towards his father. “Of course we’ll negotiate. What do you people even want?”

“You could start with an apology.”

Whatever spark of hope his mother's concern might have ignited was promptly smothered by his father's unimpressed look. “For what? For all we know, Wei Wuxian is truly guilty!”

“My son has no rebound marks on his chest.”

“Prove it!” a spectator called. 

“Yeah, how do we know you’re not lying?”

“Has anyone seen for themselves?”

“I can attest,” Lan Wangji’s solemn voice rang out clearly into the room. “Wei Ying has no such mark.”

People looked at Lan Wangji in shock, but his eyes were locked on Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji's face remained as impassive as ever, even as Jin Zixuan flushed when he realized the implication.

“Lan Zhan!” said Wei Wuxian, sounding helpless as his cheeks flamed pink. “You can’t just say things like that!”

“Wei Ying is innocent,” the conviction in Lan Wangji’s tone was unmistakable. He could not be more clear which side he was on, if these were battle lines being drawn through the room.

No one seemed to know what to say to that. Even Jin Guangshan looked wrongfooted with that unexpected declaration.

Unsurprisingly, it was Sect Leader Yao who broke the startled (embarrassed) silence. “He’s the Yiling Laozu! He must know wicked tricks to cover up such evidence.”

“You’ve had a lot to say about this,” said Cangse Sanren, shifting her grip on Jin Zixuan so she could angle her body to face the sect leader. “Why are you so adamant about casting blame on Wei Ying? Maybe it's time you strip for us.”

“I beg your pardon!”

“Chances are, whoever actually cursed the asshole is in this room right now. Revealing the rebound marks will identify him. Care to prove your innocence?”

“This is outrageous!”

“We agree,” said Wei Changze. “It is indeed outrageous to toss around unfounded accusations. We want only justice. Surely the righteous clans of the Jianghu gathered here would not deny us the chance to find the truth.”

An uneasy silence followed his words.

When none of the sect leaders looked eager to be the voice against justice, Wei Changze spoke again. “Before we begin our search for evidence, I think all the non-cultivators should leave the hall. This will not concern them.”

“It doesn’t concern the other guests, either,” added Jin Zixuan quickly, eyes locked on Jiang Yanli across the room. “Let them leave before anything happens.” It was one thing if he himself somehow died in this clusterfuck, but Jiang Yanli had to be protected.

Cangse Sanren scoffed near his ear. “It concerns someone here.”

Jin Zixuan swallowed, feeling the cold of the steel pressed against his throat. “But surely you do not suspect the Yunmeng Jiang. They, at least, should be allowed to leave.”

“We should all be allowed to leave! Surely you can’t suspect everyone?” called out Sect Leader Qin indignantly.

“If the Jin can attempt to extrajudicially execute my son, it seems more than fair to search everyone here for evidence of the truth,” said Cangse Sanren. “If you are innocent, you will not come to harm. But if any of you tries to leave before you’ve been cleared of the crime, I’ll assume you are guilty, and we’ll check your corpse for the evidence.”

Jin Guangshan was livid. “You believe you can kill at will in my home?”

“I would prefer not to kill anyone today. My only intention in coming here was to celebrate my niece’s wedding. You’re the one who started this. But I’m not leaving until we end it,” said Cangse Sanren, her voice hard as midwinter ice.

“Shijie,” said Wei Wuxian, just loud enough to be heard over the renewed angry mutterings of the crowd, “take the servants where they will be safe, please.”

Jiang Yanli looked carefully at Jin Zixuan and then Wei Wuxian, before gesturing for the servants to follow her out of the room, and Jin Zixuan released the breath he had been holding. She looked pissed at being dismissed, but he would take any scolding she wanted to give him, over the risk of her getting caught in a crossfire. The priority of Jiang Yanli’s wellbeing was the one thing he and Wei Wuxian would always agree on.

“Now,” said Cangse Sanren, “who wants to strip first?”

“Surely it doesn't need to be done publicly,” said Jin Guangyao, who had appeared at the edge of the crowd at some point during this time.

“A-Yao is right,” Lan Xichen spoke up. “We only really need one trustworthy witness to attest to the absence of any marks.”

“Hm,” said Cangse Sanren. “Very well. Thank you for volunteering, Zewu-Jun. But I can’t have folks leaving this room. There’s a screen over on the side there. Anyone who would like to leave here quickly can line up there to let Sect Leader Lan confirm your innocence.”

“Ah.” Lan Xichen cleared his throat and glanced at Jin Guangshan, who was fuming. Jin Guangshan was staring at Jin Guangyao as if silently demanding he come up with a way to forestall this, but Jin Guangyao only shook his head and looked back at Lan Xichen. Lan Xichen stood with a nod. “As you say. Let’s get this over with.” He moved towards the screen. “Who would like to be first?”

“Me,” said Nie Mingjue as he stood. “I’m sick of this nonsense. The Nie will be first and then we will be on our way.”

“What about the ladies?” someone yelled out.

“Let’s have all the ladies come over to the other side of the hall,” said Wei Changze. “If we get through all the men, then we’ll consider what to do next. We may as well preserve as much dignity as we can.”

The crowd was now moving in several directions: a flow of men ready to leave lining up by the screen to be checked by Lan Xichen, many of the women making their way to the side of the hall out of the way. The more angry, obstinate men seemed to be gathering closer to Jin Guangshan, on the far end of the hall from where Jin Zixuan still stood with Cangse Sanren’s sword at his throat.

“What about our dignity?” shouted Sect Leader Su from where he stood near Jin Guangshan.

“This is an outrage!” The others in that group quickly joined in, shouting their displeasure with the turn of events.

The men gathered around Jin Guangshan were becoming more frenzied, and now several drew their swords.

“Mother!” called Jin Zixuan, heart in his throat as he saw how close she still stood to where angry, unstable men now held naked blades in their hands. They looked like a fight would break out at any moment.

But his mother also saw the danger, and she and the rest of the women at that end of the room scurried away from the sect leader's dais.

The room was in chaos, but Jin Zixuan noticed no one was trying for any of the doors. They evidently had at least enough sense not to test Cangse Sanren.

Then he heard Cangse Sanren speak softly behind him. “Changze, you have that new talisman you’ve been working on?”

“Which one?”

“I know it was meant for a more fun scene than this, but it seems like it could be adapted for the situation, don’t you think?”

“Oh. That one. Yes, love, one moment.”

Wei Wuxian took over holding onto Jin Zixun as Wei Changze rummaged through a qiankun pouch to pull out a blank talisman paper and a stick of cinnabar.  Wei Wuxian watched carefully as Wei Changze sketched out the characters, the younger clearly trying to predict the effect this talisman would have. He tilted his head as he studied his father’s work.

“Ah,” Wei Wuxian muttered under his breath. “It seems I shall need a new name for my binding spell, as the ‘No Clothes Talisman’ is clearly something else entirely.”

And then Wei Changze was sending the talisman flying straight into the mob of men around Jin Guangshan. It hit the floor in front of Jin Guangshan’s seat, and a cloud of fragrant smoke enveloped that end of the hall. There were a number of shouts, and more swords being drawn, but it was only seconds before the smoke was clearing and they could see that no one had been harmed – at least, no one’s bodies.

The room fell suddenly still and silent as people gasped in disbelief and discomfiture at the sight. All the men who had been standing within a 15-foot radius of Jin Guangshan were now standing there in naught but their trousers.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, all eyes turned to Sect Leader Su, who was looking down at his own naked chest in horror. He looked up at the accusing eyes around him and blurted, “I’ve been cursed too! Look, someone gave me Hundred Holes Curse!”

“Nice try,” said Cangse Sanren. “But that’s a rebound mark. Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve found our curse maker.”

“You dared to curse me?!” shouted Jin Zixun, livid. He looked like he wanted to strangle the other man, and he struggled against the rope binding his hands. “Who the fuck even are you?”

“Su Minshan,” Lan Wangji supplied, voice cold and dangerous. “You would have passed off your crime onto another? Let Wei Ying take the fall?”

“Wait! It isn’t my fault!” Su She insisted, waiving his hands around uselessly. “I never blamed Wei Wuxian! And Jin Guangyao was the one who taught me the curse and said something really should be done about Jin Zixun.”

“A-Yao?” Jin Zixun looked at his cousin in confusion and anger. “Wait. A-Yao is the one who told me when Wei Wuxian would be coming through Qiongqi Path.”

“You’re taking my words out of context!” said Jin Guangyao, wringing his hands and looking suitably pitiful. “We were discussing the travel logistics of the guests. And as soon as I heard you had taken a group of cultivators and left, I realized what you meant to do and tried to stop you! I told Zixuan right away, knowing he was the only one you would listen to.”

Jin Guangshan glared at Jin Guangyao. “So because of you, both the Jin heirs ended up in Qiongqi Path, facing off against the Yiling Laozu and his unhinged mother?”

“Father! You know it wasn’t up to me!”

“That whoreson sent my son into the path of danger?!” screeched Madam Jin.

“Mother, please,” Jin Zixuan pleaded softly, as others raised their voices and began talking over each other.

But Jin Zixuan had his own questions. It didn’t add up, that it had taken Jin Guangyao several hours to realize what his cousin was up to. Jin Guangyao had never been so slow on the uptake in his life. Jin Zixuan found it much easier to believe his brother was involved somehow. But could he really have meant to get both Jin Zixuan and his cousin killed? Was Jin Guangyao trying to clear the path to inherit Jinlintai?

Jin Zixuan felt sick at the thought. He didn’t want to believe such a thing about the only sibling he had ever known.

The room had dissolved in chaos and shouting, now with many fingers pointed towards Jin Guangyao. The room was quickly turning on him.

In all the commotion, Su Minshan ducked behind the crowd and made a dash for the door.

Jin Zixuan felt Cangse Sanren shift behind him, and then a thrown dagger was suddenly embedded in Su Minshan’s back. He stumbled one more step, almost to the door’s threshold, before falling to the ground. Blood seeped across his bare back. 

“Dumbass,” Cangse Sanren muttered, just as Jin Zixun loudly gasped, looking down at his chest.

“The curse is fading! The culprit is dead!”

“You mean the puppet. Doesn’t it seem like that son of a whore has been acting like a puppeteer all this time, trying to take control of Jinlintai for himself?” said one of Jin Zixuan’s more distant cousins.

“Ah, come off it,” another Jin cousin scoffed. “I’ve heard you say all kinds of nasty things against Jin Zixun behind his back. You’d have been just as quick to help that Su fellow learn the curse.”

Jin Zixun’s face twisted in outrage. “What?! What’s this jackass been saying about me?”

The infighting amongst the Jin disciples only escalated, as accusations were leveled in every direction.

Jin Zixuan, meanwhile, was still being held hostage with a sword at his throat. Were his family really so unconcerned for his life?

While he frowned, worried and despairing, Wei Wuxian stepped up beside his mother and cocked his head to one side. “Huh.”

Cangse Sanren snorted. “Yeah, that’s an impressive level of familial dysfunction right there.”

Wei Wuxian rubbed the side of his nose as his eyes scanned across the shirtless men. “Sure, but look at just how much family.”

“How do you mean?”

“Like those two guys. They’re not wearing Jin robes, but they clearly have the same birthmark as Jin Guangshan and his other close relatives.”

“It’s hereditary,” said Jin Zixuan resignedly. “Everyone in the main Jin family line has a birthmark like that.”

What Jin Zixuan hadn’t realized before now, was that the closer the relation to Jin Guangshan, the darker the purple mark below the left collarbone appeared. On most of the Jin men, it was pale lavender, but Jin Guangyao’s and a couple other younger men’s were the same plum color as on Jin Guangshan. The same color as the birthmark hidden on Jin Zixuan’s own chest, beneath his thankfully still-undisturbed robes.

A woman standing nearby gasped so loudly she drew several pairs of eyes away from the commotion at the front of the room.

“Qin-guniang, are you alright? You’re so pale!”

Qin Su indeed looked as if she had seen a ghost, her hand covering her open mouth and her eyes wide as she stared at the plum birthmark on Jin Guangshan’s hairy chest. Tears gathered in the corners of the woman’s eyes.

Jin Zixuan looked back and forth between Qin Su and Jin Guangshan, and then he saw it. Qin Su had the Jin eyebrows so common in this room, Jin Guangshan’s chin, and a delicate nose identical to that of Jin Guangyao. By the look of horror on her face, she’d had no idea she had any Jin blood.

Jin Zixuan’s stomach twisted. He wasn’t sure what this meant, but it seemed unlikely to be anything good.

Wei Wuxian stepped to Qin Su’s side, held her arm lightly when the woman wavered a little and seemed on the verge of fainting. “Qin-guniang,” he said softly, barely audible over the din of the argument. “You have a birthmark, too?”

Qin Su startled, and her eyes snapped to Wei Wuxian’s. Her breathing was shaky as she nodded. “Dark purple,” she said, tears slipping down her cheeks. “Like A-Yao’s.”

Beside her, Sect Leader Qin’s face darkened to a furious red-violet as he turned toward the front of the room, eyes blazing.

“Jin Guangshan!” He shouted above the noise and, in a burst of qi, flew down the center of the room. Jin Zixuan sucked in a breath and surged forward, but he was restrained by Cangse Sanren and her sword.

It was already too late. In the confusion, no one guessed what Sect Leader Qin was about to do before he had stabbed his sword clean through Jin Guangshan’s heart – just below that incriminating birthmark.

“You bastard! You raped my wife!” Sect Leader Qin shouted as Jin Guangshan coughed blood and then collapsed.

In a moment, nearly every sword in the large hall was drawn, several aiming for Sect Leader Qin. But in the whisper of a moment, the air shifted, and the clash and scrape of steel ceased – all the drawn swords began to quiver as the smooth sound of a xiao filled the room. The swords pulled themselves from their masters’ hands, floating straight up until they stuck themselves into the ceiling, and hung there, quivering with the impact.

Lan Xichen finished his song and lowered his xiao from his lips.

Everyone stared in shock, some angry at being so suddenly and easily disarmed.

But Jin Zixuan’s eyes were glued to Sect Leader Qin’s sword, now implanted in the ceiling in front of his father’s body, still covered in his father’s blood.

The room became so silent that the sound of bloody drops hitting the tile floor was audible.

Drip, drip, drip.

Jin Zixuan swallowed, and his dry throat clicked.

“Now,” said Lan Xichen. “I think it best if everyone takes their seats so we can find a way forward with no more bloodshed.”

Nie Mingjue grunted and knelt at his table. The rest of the Lan and Nie delegations immediately followed suit, and then the rest of the room.

Cangse Sanren and her husband exchanged a look. She shrugged and plopped herself down on the floor right where she stood in the middle of the hall, crossing her legs.

Jin Zixuan looked down at her and blinked. “Am I still a hostage?”

Cangse Sanren looked up at where her sword was stuck into the ceiling, then back at him. “I think we’re past that, don’t you?”

He nodded, then looked at his tiresome cousin. Jin Zixun was still standing there looking shifty, like he was considering doing something stupid.

Jin Zixuan frowned as he untied the rope binding his cousin’s wrists. “Zixun, go sit next to my mother. You are to sit quietly and do nothing. Do not speak unless spoken to. Understood?”

His cousin grunted and started to turn away.

Jin Zixuan grabbed his arm. “I think what you meant to say was, ‘Yes, Zongzhu.’”

His cousin blinked and then narrowed his eyes. His tone was still mocking as he said, “Yes, Zongzhu.” He turned and sauntered over to Madam Jin and sat beside her, looking sullen, but obeying so far.

Jin Zixuan tasted bile, his eyes still drawn to the blood-dripping sword. He hated that he was claiming the title so swiftly when his father’s body was still warm at the front of the room. But he didn’t let his discomfort show. He had waited through too many banquets and meetings like this for someone older, smarter, more eloquent to take charge, deescalate, and lead the room to a sensible conclusion.

He had waited in vain. No such leader had emerged to calm the tensions and set things right, and now his father was dead. Though he felt sick at the thought, Jin Zixuan realized he would have to do it himself. They were standing in his home, after all. His sect was responsible for most of the turmoil, in one way or another.

And he was the sect leader now. This was his problem to fix. Jin Zixuan was determined to resolve this. He was determined to prove himself worthy of the only title he cared about: Jiang Yanli’s husband.

He looked around the room and saw he was now the only one left standing. All eyes were on him.

He took a breath, then turned to Lan Xichen and gave a salute. “Thank you, Lan-zongzhu.”

Lan Xichen nodded in return, face still grave.

“First of all,” Jin Zixuan said as he turned to face Wei Wuxian and his parents. “Lanling Jin Sect apologizes for the wrongful accusation of Wei Wuxian and the attack against his family.” Jin Zixuan bowed low at the waist to the Wei family, who were seated near each other on the floor, next to the remaining pile of swords confiscated from the missing cultivators.

Cangse Sanren looked at her son. “What do you think, Ying-er? Should we forgive him?”

Wei Wuxian didn’t even look at her. He was too busy staring at Jin Zixuan, gaping like a fish, speechless for once in his life. Under circumstances where Jin Zixuan’s palms weren’t sweating and he wasn’t so nauseated, it would have been quite enjoyable to watch.

Cangse Sanren exchanged a look with her husband before looking back at Jin Zixuan. “Assuming you mean to offer restitution in the form of resolving the whole Burial Mounds situation, your apology is accepted.”

Jin Zixuan nodded. “Agreed. The Lanling Jin will pursue no further action against the Wen remnants or the Wei family.”

Cangse Sanren nodded and saluted him.

Jin Zixuan released a tense breath. So far so good.

He took a few steps towards the front of the room, then knelt on the floor before a still fuming Qin Cangye, startling the older sect leader. “Lanling Jin Sect takes responsibility for the crimes of our former leader, starting with my sincere regret.” And then Jin Zixuan pressed his forehead to the floor, kowtowing before the whole room.

Sect Leader Qin looked gobsmacked. “Get up, boy, it isn’t your crime. The culprit has already paid.”

Jin Zixuan rose, ignoring the whispers around the room. He couldn’t care less about public opinion at this moment. He brushed down the front of his pale golden robes. “Nevertheless, as Sect Leader of the Lanling Jin, it falls to me to make what restitution I can, to try to restore justice and fairness. Qin Su is my sister, descended from the previous sect leader. Therefore, I hereby appoint Qin Su as the next heir of the Lanling Jin Sect.”

The room erupted into murmurs, but Jin Zixun leapt to his feet. “Traitor!” he spat at his cousin. “I’m the next in line! You know it should be me! Not some…some random wench!”

“The decision is not up for discussion,” said Jin Zixuan, trying not to let his weariness show in his voice. “Sit down, Zixun.”

He didn’t. Instead, his cousin shouted again. “How dare you speak of fairness and then treat me this way! You fucker!” He leapt for Jin Zixuan, face furious and arms outstretched for violence. But in a blur of movement, Cangse Sanren swept up one of the loose swords from the pile on the floor before them and stepped in front of Jin Zixuan, blocking the attack.

Jin Zixun pulled up short. He was breathing hard, and hatred twisted his features.

“You should listen to your sect leader,” said Cangse Sanren calmly. Jin Zixuan, meanwhile, blinked at the back of her head, caught off guard by how the tables had suddenly turned. He quickly decided he preferred having Cangse Sanren's sword defending him than at his throat.

“Witch! This has nothing to do with you!” His cousin was fuming. “This is between me and my rat bastard traitor of a cousin.”

“Watch your tongue, asshole,” replied Cangse Sanren, unimpressed. “That’s my nephew you’re talking about.”

“Nephew?” said Jin Zixuan, surprise pulling the word from his lips.

Cangse Sanren glanced at him briefly over her shoulder. “You’re marrying my niece, aren’t you? That makes you my nephew. So, nephew, what would you like me to do with this obnoxious lump of walking idiocy?”

“You-!” Jin Zixun snatched up another of the loose swords and attacked Cangse Sanren. She blocked him easily and parried, before he attacked again.

Jin Zixuan took a step back, away from their duel, too startled to do anything else. Apparently taking his cue, no one else intervened either.

His cousin was beyond foolish to pick a fight. Jin Zixun was too weak of a cultivator even to ward off the Hundred Holes Curse, and the affliction had only weakened him further.

Jin Zixuan was faintly surprised at how much Cangse Sanren held back. She didn’t kill his cousin right away; she only gave him little warning knicks, leaving him plenty of chances to back off.

But he kept coming at her, fueled by anger and an enflamed sense of violated entitlement. By now, Jin Zixun was bleeding from small cuts in both arms, across his abdomen, and above his left ear. Unable to land a single blow, he was only becoming angrier and more frustrated.

Then a wicked gleam lit his eye, and before Jin Zixuan could be worried what it meant, his cousin suddenly turned and leapt toward the unarmed Wei Wuxian instead. Wei Wuxian dodged swiftly, and Cangse Sanren’s sword pierced Jin Zixun’s heart from behind.

His cousin looked more outraged than ever, staring down at the blade impaled in his chest. Then Cangse Sanren yanked her sword free, and Jin Zixun collapsed to the ground, dead.

Jin Zixuan closed his eyes. This was meant to be his wedding day.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one upset at the direction the day had taken. Sect Leader Ouyang exclaimed, “I came here for a banquet, and now three people have been killed!”

Nie Mingjue grunted. “You can hardly argue they didn’t have it coming,” he muttered. “What a shitshow.”

Jin Zixuan’s ears burned with shame.

“What about that one?” asked another of his cousins, pushing Jin Guangyao to the front. His brother had at least managed to acquire a robe and clothe himself again, though the way he stood, he seemed to be trying to make himself as small as possible.

Jin Zixuan sighed. “A-Yao hasn’t killed anyone. Or attempted to kill anyone himself. It’s not actually a crime to intentionally give people bad advice. Su Minshan and my cousin made their own poor choices.”

Jin Guangyao looked up at him, his wide eyes tinged with a hesitant hope.

Jin Zixuan still didn’t know what the other man’s intentions had been, or even how much might have been instigated by their father. Part of him wanted to sweep it all away and never look too carefully at what had really happened here. He had no desire to carry on the Jin tradition of incessant suspicion, scheming, and competition. He just wanted his family to be his family.

Jin Zixuan met his brother’s gaze and made a decision. “A-Yao, you will always have a place in my family, as my brother. I will always be your Ge. As for whether you will still have a place within the Lanling Jin Sect, that will be up to Qin Su.”

“Qin Su? Why?” asked Jin Guangyao, confusion and wariness in his eyes.

Jin Zixuan paused, took a breath. He had one more declaration to make.

He looked around the hall at the crowd of cultivators gathered there, before his eyes landed on his father’s body. The man who had always seemed larger than life was now reduced to this: a limp, lifeless mass, spilling blood over a gilded throne.

Jin Zixuan's forehead creased, his face serious and troubled. “Ever since that day I watched MianMian discard her Sparks Amidst Snow robes in this very hall, I haven’t stopped thinking about it. I am convinced now she had the right idea.” How many times had he sat and watched as his father chose the dishonorable path? How often had his sect's actions and attitude made him burn with humiliation, even as he bit his tongue and feigned haughty silence? More importantly, his sect had ruined his wedding by attacking Jiang Yanli’s family and putting her in danger. He shook his head. He could stomach no more of this.

Then he straightened, standing tall, as his eyes fixed on the peony banner hanging high on the far wall. He raised his voice so no one in the room could doubt his next words. “I hereby renounce the title of sect leader and secede from the Lanling Jin Sect.” He looked over at Qin Su. “Qin-guniang, I am sorry to say this sect is your problem now. I will help you however I can, but I will not be staying in Lanling.”

The room rang with silence. Jin Zixuan kept his eyes on Qin Su. She stared back at him for a moment before bowing with a salute. As she rose again, she said, “This humble cultivator will strive to live up to Jin-gongzi’s faith in me. I am honored to take up the mantle.”

Jin Zixuan nodded and swallowed, nerves still frayed and muscles tense. He glanced around the room of renowned cultivators, nearly every face clearly communicating they thought he’d lost his mind. His mother looked as though she may be on the verge of feinting. But Cangse Sanren was looking at him with a considering, thoughtful expression, and Wei Changze had a softness around his eyes that might have been something like pride.

Then Jin Zixuan's eyes landed on a doorway at the side of the hall and he sucked in a breath. Jiang Yanli was standing there, beautiful in all her red and gold finery with her bejeweled hair glinting in the light, watching him. Nerves fluttered in Jin Zixuan’s stomach. What would his fiancée think of all this? Would she even still want to marry him, now that he had nothing to offer her – no position, no security, not even a home?

With regal poise, Jiang Yanli stepped through the doorway and made her way through the parting crowd to stand before Jin Zixuan. He watched her with wide, anxious eyes, his chest tightening until he could hardly breathe. Jiang Yanli took his hands in both of hers and squeezed them in reassurance.

“My husband will of course come to live in Lotus Pier, with his wife,” she said, and when she smiled at him, Jin Zixuan knew he had made the right choice. Somehow, everything would be okay.