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Chapter Text

He counted the first time as a trick, even if it hadn’t yet been aimed at Lan Qiren himself – reasonable, really, since Meng Yao didn’t even know who Lan Qiren was at that time, and had no reason to care.

It was Lan Xichen that Meng Yao had been trying to trick.

Rather: it was Lan Xichen who he’d successfully tricked.

Finding the terrified and exhausted Lan Xichen as he’d been fleeing the Wen sect had been a stroke of luck, the heavens paying Meng Yao back for a little of the bad luck they’d inflicted on him for his untimely arrival at Jinlin Tower, but after that it had all been planned. Meng Yao had learned all too well the tricks a brothel used, whether in evaluating people or in manipulating them, and he’d pegged Lan Xichen at once as an easy mark, a naïve and sheltered young master who thought the best of people. More than that, Lan Xichen was a young master that had just encountered his first real obstacle, and was now at the moment of crisis – he desperately wanted to continue to believe that people were innately good, but was questioning himself after what he had endured; he could go either way, either in becoming more cynical and more thoughtful, or else determine that what had happened was an aberration, maintain his innocence and with that innocence, his original sense of self. Naturally the latter was by far more comfortable, and anyone who could help him maintain that path would win his everlasting gratitude and trust.

Meng Yao, who needed a backer, gave him that help.

Not only did he care for him, letting him stay in his room and bringing him food and managing (barely) to turn disdain into companiable laughter when Lan Xichen fumbled basic chores that Meng Yao had learned under threats of vicious beatings before the age of five, but he helped him emotionally, too. He’d already bribed the local Wen sect soldiery, a joint effort with the rest of the town that just wanted to go about its own business without too much suffering yet had too much face to be seen doing it; they had needed a representative to do it for them that could be turned scapegoat at any time, and he had been willing to take the risk in order to have control over exactly what was being asked for. But bribery didn’t make friends, so it was easy enough to rile them up so that they would come to his house under the pretense of ‘looking for the missing Lan sect heir’ specifically in order to beat him up, and naturally, in so doing, fail to adequately search his house to actually find that missing heir.

Meng Yao took his beating – light enough, given that they just wanted to teach him a lesson without daring to damage the source of their illicit funds – and played the noble victim to Lan Xichen, all teary eyes and raised chin and proud refusal to admit that he was hurt, and Lan Xichen fell for it at once, his heart lightened as much by his restored faith in humanity as by Meng Yao’s ‘sacrifice’ on his behalf.

After, much revived, Lan Xichen headed out to continue on his path, and Meng Yao, at his suggestion, turned his feet towards Qinghe and the Nie sect, which recognized talent without regard to birth.

It was only later, much later, that he would go to the Cloud Recesses on business for the Nie sect, and meet Lan Qiren.

From the stories Lan Xichen had told him during their time together, Meng Yao expected Lan Qiren to be an obstacle. Old before his time, innately conservative, unfailingly orthodox and fond of the rules, a somber and strict teacher of young gentlemen – it seemed obvious to Meng Yao that Lan Qiren would be a boring old stick in the mud, who would no doubt look down with a sneer upon Meng Yao for his background. That was always the way with such men, repetitive almost to the point of being boring.

Meng Yao only hoped that Lan Xichen’s fondness for him would overwhelm that perfectly natural disdain, rather than Lan Qiren’s disapproval undermining Lan Xichen’s support for him.

He wasn’t expecting for Lan Qiren to rush forward to embrace him before even greeting him.

“Thank you for saving my nephew,” he said, the older man’s words both wholly sincere and said loud enough for everyone to hear, as if he had no care for his face or concern about any taint that might rub off from contact with one of Meng Yao’s background. “I owe you a debt that can never be repaid.”

Meng Yao was frozen.

He’d always had a weakness for the approval of older men, a weakness he was well aware of and had always monitored quite carefully to ensure it wouldn’t strike him at an unexpected moment. It had been bad enough in his childhood, when he’d lacked any father figure to guide him but was constantly hearing stories from his mother about his father off in Lanling, and it had only gotten worse once he’d been rejected by that father in all his grandeur. Between his mother’s vigilant guard and his own cautious paranoia, he had never, to his knowledge, been embraced by an older man like this.

It felt good.

He felt hyper-aware of every bit of it: Lan Qiren’s hand on the back of his head and the center of his back, the callused fingertips and sharp nails that denoted a qin player, the straightness of Lan Qiren’s posture, suggestive of a scholar, and the solidity of his stance that hinted at a swordsman, the strength in his shoulder against which Meng Yao’s face had ended up leaning against, the warmth of his body and even the faint scent of him, fresh laundry and ink and man all mixed together.

It felt as if it went on for a long time, though in reality the embrace lasted only a second.

When it was done, Lan Qiren released him, stepping back and bowing deeply in a salute that Meng Yao very much did not deserve. The other man was willingly bending his back to him first in front of all these onlookers, regardless of age or rank, yet from Lan Xichen’s stories Meng Yao knew that Lan Qiren was always conscious of his dignity, careful and thoughtful in his actions; he wasn’t one of those shameless people who thought that there was no point in the proper order of things. This wasn’t carelessness. No, Lan Qiren was acting purposefully, choosing to recognize Meng Yao’s achievements, and to give them, publicly, the honor he believed they were due.

He was recognizing Meng Yao.

Meng Yao swallowed, his silver tongue suddenly as heavy as lead, and he stepped back himself, returning the salute just as deeply. “It was only – only what I should do –”

He had not stuttered over his words in a dozen years. He wouldn’t have stuttered now, only Lan Qiren had straightened his back once more and Meng Yao, who had not had a chance to properly see him earlier, could see him clearly now: regular features drawn with the lines of the habitually stern, the effect enhanced by a thin beard, as Lan Xichen has described, but also the slightest lines at the corners of his eyes, the only signs on his face that hinted at the difficulties he must have endured over his life, and his slightly distant gaze as he peered at Meng Yao’s face in deference to politeness without quite meeting his eyes, a trait Lan Xichen had warned him about in advance. Those were all things that Meng Yao had been expecting to see, all a match to his mental image, but somehow in his mental image he forgot to account for those other features that marked Lan Qiren as a close relative to Lan Xichen – his height, only slightly less than his nephew yet still enough to make him a tall man, the breath of his shoulders, perfectly proportional to the lanky yet solid build of a gentleman swordsman, the precision of his movement, as graceful as any bird…his face, which ranked, just as Lan Xichen’s did, among the very first rate.

Meng Yao swallowed again, this time for a completely different reason.

“Thank you for welcoming me,” he added, a little pointlessly, more in an attempt to distract himself from the extremely inconvenient surge of uncontrollable desire he was currently experiencing than anything else.

“It is rare to see such righteousness in the young,” Lan Qiren said, his voice somewhat toneless, as Lan Xichen had also warned of, but still loud and carrying, and the volume was still quite clearly purposeful. “As our sect’s benefactor, you are naturally welcome.”

A moment later, he stepped in a little closer, dropped his voice and added, with a trace of sternness coming into his voice: “Righteousness may be rare, but foolishness is deplorably common. If anyone gives you any trouble, for any reason, tell me at once and I will put an end to it. You may depend on me.”

Meng Yao had not depended on anyone since his mother died, and even before. He looked at Lan Qiren, with his back straight despite his visible injuries, his wandering gaze doing nothing to distract from the sense of reliability and stability that he exuded, and felt something in his chest give a start, like the final thrash of a fish just as it got hooked on a line, ready to be reeled in.

He smiled.

“Then I will depend on Teacher Lan.”

Chapter Text

Lan Qiren wasn’t like other people.

Meng Yao knew that, of course. He had even expected it: it was only natural that the man he’d set his heart on would be unlike any other. That was a fact he’d accepted with equanimity more or less the moment he realized he generally preferred men to women – to his relief, he was not so particular that it would be difficult for him to marry and have children, but his inclination, not to mention his private fantasy life, was heavily weighted towards men, especially older men with intelligence, bearing, and a commanding personality. But the vast majority of such men did not like him, even (or especially) the ones who lusted after him, and so he’d long ago resigned himself to the prospect of a life with only a loyal wife and his own company to satisfy him, with only the faintest hope that he might one day meet someone extraordinary.

Naturally Lan Qiren was extraordinary.

This was not merely in the fact that he was worthy of Meng Yao’s admiration, but in other ways as well. Lan Xichen had offhandedly mentioned his uncle’s dislike for meeting people’s eyes if etiquette did not demand that he do so, but he hadn’t mentioned how the man rigorously controlled himself in public settings that required certain behaviors, only relaxing enough to allow himself certain small physical tics when he was alone or with those he trusted – faintly rocking back and forth while concentrating, for instance, or moving his hands a certain way, although Meng Yao noticed how he’d sneakily turned stroking his beard, an act etiquette permitted anyone to do at any time, into one of those habits. Lan Xichen had also mentioned his uncle’s fondness for order and routine, but he’d failed to mention how exquisitely regimented the other man was, doing his best to ensure that each thing was in its proper order even under the most chaotic of circumstances, an oasis of calm no matter how fierce the surrounding storm.

Lan Xichen had spoken of his uncle’s strictness and adherence to their sect rules, but he hadn’t explained how much Lan Qiren visibly loved the subject, how his eyes warmed and his sternness faded when he spoke of the rules’ intertwined meanings, their history, their application. Meng Yao had known that Lan Qiren was a teacher, but he hadn’t realized that there were teachers in the world who genuinely loved teaching, and who were moreover sincere in what they taught. Lan Qiren genuinely believed that there were rules that ought to be followed by everyone, no matter who, and that all deviations ought to be punished equitably – such fairness was a concept that Meng Yao had long ago given up as a myth created by those with power to have things their way to keep down those who did not, but listening to Lan Qiren’s passionate, if toneless, lectures on the subject, he could almost bring himself to believe it.

Well, maybe. Mostly he just liked listening to Lan Qiren talk.

It helped that the older man was genuinely brilliant. Put aside Meng Yao’s personal fondness for older men who knew who they were and what they wanted, for stable figures that knew how to administer both indulgent kindness and corrective discipline without creating a moment of doubt in their affection, Lan Qiren was also shockingly intelligent and, even better, focused on precisely the same sorts of things that Meng Yao also enjoyed and prided himself on. Not only did they have a similar manner, with a carefully manufactured mask to wear around others, but after decades of managing a sect, Lan Qiren had an eye for logistics and a talent for management that was similar to Meng Yao’s own – the skillset Great Sects so desperately needed and yet so rarely valued – and his eye for patterns and extrapolating meaning from disparate and scattered information was second to none, even when Meng Yao compared him to himself. With a war on, they never lacked for things to talk about, and Meng Yao felt no shame in bringing to Lan Qiren the occasional problems that puzzled even him, and in doing so benefit from the other man’s experience and insight.

And when they finished talking over logistics, or during those times when Lan Qiren was sick at heart of war and all things relating to the war, they spoke of other things, too. Lan Qiren had a deep understanding of music and no snobbery on the subject, as Meng Yao had found with others – he was a consummate teacher, always willing to consider if someone was worthy of learning purely on their own merits and, if he found them to be so, willing to use his precious time and energy to teach them. Meng Yao had always been proud of his musical talents, learned at his mother’s side, and Lan Qiren was able to show him how to connect those skills with his newfound cultivation, guiding spiritual energy into the music as he played and causing various types of effects. And he didn’t sneer, as the other teachers Meng Yao had found had done, at the fact that most of the songs Meng Yao knew were the versions played in brothels; on the contrary, he didn’t even seem to consider that fact relevant, instead merely enjoying the novelty of the variation. He even requested that Meng Yao teach those versions to him.

Meng Yao, teach him. Meng Yao was positively staggered by the enormity of the compliment.

Logistics, music, the Lan sect rules, even cultivation itself – naturally Lan Qiren did not share his sect secrets, always mindful of Avoid imparting knowledge to the wrong individuals and always doubtful of his own ability to judge others, a long shadow clearly cast by some unknown incident in his past, but he was more than happy to help Meng Yao with the basics, and he had no scruples when it came to helping Meng Yao refine the cultivation techniques he’d picked on the battlefield.

“You know, of course, that they’re only copies,” Meng Yao said, one day as they were practicing some particularly complex melody, a day when he felt inexplicably peevish and longed for the familiar safety of self-destruction. "Mere mimicry of others."

Contrary to his expectations, Lan Qiren merely snorted.

"Do you think you are a genius blessed by the heavens?" he asked, voice deep and amused and just the slightest bit caustic, the acid biting despite how minimal it was. Sometimes Meng Yao thought that the Lan sect's limited palates were less a reflection of their asceticism than it was their founder's attempt to keep their tongues from growing any more fiery than they already were, for the preservation of the general good. "Are you supposed to invent cultivation techniques from thin air..? Even the most creative of prodigies learns first from others, only later from themselves. You will learn the way everyone learns - first by faithful replication, then by variation on existing themes, and only finally in pure creation. There are no shortcuts on the road to heaven."

By heaven, Lan Qiren meant cultivation, or possibly music, but Meng Yao thought to himself that heaven was already present, here in Lan Qiren’s fond gaze and quiet approval.

"People have taken to calling me a thief of techniques," Meng Yao said anyway, probing; the more he yearned for Lan Qiren’s approval, the more inclined he was to shove all his inadequacies into the other man’s face, seeking to repulse him before it was too late and he grew too attached to tolerate rejection. “Because I can copy too well, remember too much, and have no discrimination – I don’t pick one type of techniques to learn, but many.”

As indiscriminate with techniques as his whore mother was with men, someone had sneered, vicious and bitter at Meng Yao using one of their family’s so-called ‘secret’ moves.

“I look forward to seeing what you come up with when you start to combine them,” Lan Qiren remarked, utterly unphased. “It will undoubtedly be far more exciting than anything the original owners have done with them in the last three generations.”

Meng Yao, bracing himself for critique, was surprised into laughter.

A moment later, the laughter caught in his throat when Lan Qiren reached over to put his hand on his shoulder.

“Do not be ashamed of the fact that you have no foundation,” Lan Qiren told him, serious. “Where were you supposed to get one, denied as you were your patrimony..? That others see your talent and hate you out of jealousy is a testament only to the smallness of their minds, and their fear that you will outshine them, who grew up with all the advantages you lacked. If you pay them any mind at all, it should only be when you leave them behind in the dust.”

Meng Yao felt a smile fight its way onto his face, the bad mood of earlier finally lifting. This advice, vicious and petty as it was, was far more to his taste than any of Nie Mingjue’s high-sounding recommendations to simply ignore them all. “And which rule of your family is that, Teacher Lan?”

“Propriety suggests reciprocity, it is impolite not to reciprocate,” was Lan Qiren’s immediate rejoinder, and Meng Yao laughed once more. “And I would remind you that it is also our rule to Love and respect yourself. If you do not hold your head high, knowing your own value, then who else will?”

“My friends, I hope,” Meng Yao said, then looked down at the qin under his hands. “Ah, Teacher – this particular bit really doesn’t seem to be making its way into my head no matter what I do. I don’t suppose I can trouble you to show it to me once again…? Or even…perhaps we should go about it a different way.”

“A different way? What do you mean?”

Meng Yao pretended to think about it. “A demonstration seems to be insufficient…ah, I know. Perhaps you could position my hands for me, then monitor to make sure I’m getting it right? I know it’s a little juvenile, but in matters of cultivation, I am truly only a beginner.”

Lan Qiren hesitated briefly.

“You must have done something similar for your nephews, once upon a time…?”

After another long moment, Lan Qiren nodded, a single decisive motion. He then moved to kneel behind Meng Yao, putting his arms around him so that his hands could cover Meng Yao’s on the qin.

“Begin to play,” he said, his breath warm against Meng Yao’s ear. “Good. Now circulate your qi.”

Meng Yao, playing the already memorized tune half on instinct, longed to ask for guidance on that part of it, too, but he was wise enough to bite his tongue to keep from blurting out the request. Guiding a student in music, in however intimate a posture, was one thing; it was a thing a father might do for his children or a guardian his wards – Meng Yao had dropped in the reference to Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji quite deliberately, hoping to mislead Lan Qiren into perceiving his intentions as wholly innocent – but guidance in matters of qi was quite different, especially between two adults.

That would be dual cultivation.

That was precisely the nature of Meng Yao’s interest, of course, but Lan Qiren would naturally refuse.

He might even be disgusted by the request, given that Meng Yao had demonstrated too much intelligence to be able to claim that he did not understand the nature of what he was asking for. Even if he wasn’t disgusted, he would still be unwilling – after all, as Meng Yao had learned, Lan Qiren didn’t like that sort of thing.

Well, maybe he might enjoy dual cultivation, the actual cultivation part of it, but he didn’t enjoy dual cultivation, not in the sense that other people meant it, when they spoke high-sounding words to disguise the fact that they just wanted to fuck, base as base can be. It had come up in conversation not long ago, Lan Qiren offhandedly mentioning his own abiding disinterest in carnal matters.

Other people might have been disappointed, knowing that their fantasies would never live in the light of day, but for Meng Yao, it had come as a surprising relief.

Meng Yao was not himself a man without desire, much less one without needs, but after the childhood he had had, he found that he now regarded lust as innately disgusting. He could see the beauty in longing, in the idea of two hearts becoming one, and he could even enjoy the physical sensations that came when he touched himself, but nothing was faster to ruin the appeal of someone to him than evidence that they were lusting after him in turn. If Meng Yao could, he would completely eradicate himself as a sexual being from the minds of others. The fact that he had two hands and could care for his own physical needs was, as far as he was concerned, entirely sufficient; the rest could be satisfied through desires as pure as a maiden’s, kissing and holding hands, dual cultivation of the intellectual sort, the mutual sharing of fantasies…he certainly couldn’t imagine submitting himself to another man’s lust, letting them paw at him for their own satisfaction the way all those filthy men had done to his mother.

He just wanted to care for someone.

For Lan Qiren, specifically.

That part was recent, relatively speaking, but the underlying yearning had been there for far longer. Meng Yao didn’t even know when it had started, that desire: it seemed as if he had always wanted someone he could care for, the way a good filial son could do to their parent, wanted someone he could do everything for – wanted someone whose needs he could anticipate and fulfill until they relied wholly upon him, someone who would grow to need him, someone he could serve and honor without flinching. And if, in return for his devoted and humble service, he wanted them to praise him and be stern with him in turn, and perhaps turn him over their knee for a spanking when he’d done something particularly regrettable and console him when the pressure became too much for him…surely that was reasonable? Was it really so much to ask? That genuine and unstinting affection that everyone else seemed to get so easily, couldn’t he get some of that as well..?

Lan Qiren was good at receiving care. Perhaps he had once been wholly self-sufficient, able to refuse the help of others in his pride, but he’d been injured during the burning of the Cloud Recesses, an injury so dire that he now had no choice but to accept assistance, however begrudgingly. He hated showing weakness in front of others, and so he appreciated Meng Yao’s subtle service most of all – the way his cane would appear exactly when he needed it, the scrolls he wanted to read being delivered before he even called for them so that he didn’t need to try to struggle to his feet, the food that he liked most arranged for him so he neither needed to embarrass himself by limping to the collective eating hall nor reveal weakness by asking for a delivery himself...Lan Qiren might be a terrible patient, too quick to work too hard and push himself past his limits, but that had its joys, too, making caring for him an interesting challenge, making Meng Yao need to take the time to figure out what worked to convince him to stay put – luckily, unlike the wholly inscrutable Nie Mingjue, it was actually possible to figure things out when it came to Lan Qiren.

Better still, Lan Qiren never took Meng Yao’s help for granted, being always appreciative, and yet at the same time he didn’t tolerate rudeness or discourtesy, and was in no way reluctant to impose his will upon others when the situation called for it.

For instance, he had no hesitation in smacking Meng Yao’s fingers to get him to pay attention.

“You are paying attention, yes?”

“Oh, yes,” Meng Yao said beatifically. That smack would appear in his dreams for months. “Definitely.”

Life was good.

Chapter Text

Life was hard.

Jin Guangyao, as he was now called, had staked everything on a single throw and won – won the name he had always been due, only he found that he’d lost everything else in the process.

He had thought his expectations were reasonable, but the Jin sect was even more unwelcoming than he’d anticipated, his father’s face full of smiles turning immediately to scowls the moment they were alone – he was furious at having been, to his mind, forced to accept Jin Guangyao in order to make up for his sect’s lack of valor during the war; he viewed the entire thing, and Jin Guangyao personally, as an embarrassing loss of face. It was made extremely clear that Jin Guangyao would be barely tolerated, expected to work himself to the bone in service of his sect and his father without any thanks or appreciation, and beyond that he was also expected to be grateful to be granted the opportunity to do it as his filial duties. He was not permitted to speak with Jin Zixuan, who seemed vaguely apologetic but also not inclined to oppose his witch of a mother, and Madame Jin herself seemed to view Jin Guangyao as a personal offense – she had already started to make his life miserable in a thousand little ways, and the more his father failed to rebuke her, the bolder she grew.

Even the name itself was an insult: Jin Guangyao, not Ziyao. They couldn’t have said any more clearly, or more publicly, that they wanted to make sure the bastard didn’t get any ideas about being in the line of succession…

He was well and truly trapped, too. Where before he might have had other options, now he had none – after what had happened with the Jin sect captain and later in the Nightless City, the first a deplorable mistake and the second a deplorable necessity, Nie Mingjue, who in truth Meng Yao greatly respected, now seemed to thoroughly detest him, and there did not seem to be prospects of improvement even though they’d sworn brotherhood. Naturally, everyone else Jin Guangyao had been familiar with in the Nie sect followed their sect leader’s lead; only Nie Huaisang was friendly despite everything, but being with him was more like child-minding, all indulging and coaxing, than anything else, with neither benefit nor friendship coming from it.

Lan Xichen, at least, had taken Jin Guangyao’s side, but he’d done so with such fervent defenses that it was more than a little uncomfortable – back before, Jin Guangyao had of course played the victim for him on purpose in order to get his support, but in the time since then it appeared that Lan Xichen had all but put him on a pedestal, his praises overweening and unrealistic; being with him felt like walking on eggshells, each move needing to be carefully considered lest it be the one to break the illusion once and for all. Who knew what might tip the balance and end up sending Lan Xichen over to Nie Mingjue’s side, leaving Jin Guangyao without anyone at all…?

Lan Qiren…

Jin Guangyao didn’t know what Lan Qiren thought. He hadn’t met with him since his desertion from the Nie sect, though the older man had certainly kept him warm in his dreams, and he’d been afraid to go to meet with him after. Only now, now that he’d been officially recognized, did he finally give in to Lan Xichen’s entreaties for him to visit. It was only now, now that he had something to show for himself, did he dare to make his way to the Cloud Recesses, Jin money in hand to invest in his sworn brother’s sect to aid in their rebuilding – he’d had to do some arguing for it, the subtle sort that made his father think it’d actually been his idea all along to agree to fund the Lan sect’s rebuilding in order to drive them into his debt, though of course Jin Guangyao had made no such requirements when he’d actually told Lan Xichen about the plan.

He let his sworn brother show him around, went here and there with him, and only at the end, when Lan Xichen apologetically indicated that he needed to return to his duties and wouldn’t be able to show him around any longer, did he very offhandedly mention that he would be happy for the opportunity to go pay his respects to Lan Xichen’s uncle, who had always been kind to him.

Lan Qiren was waiting for him.

“You may pour tea,” Lan Qiren told him, and Jin Guangyao did, sneaking glances to try to evaluate what Lan Qiren was thinking. It was impossible to tell – he was the same as ever, straight-backed and stern-faced, firmly in that part of life where there were few physical changes to begin with and even fewer for a powerful cultivator, and his expression was frustratingly neutral. He did not seem angry at him, even though Jin Guangyao had disappeared on him just as he’d disappeared on everyone else…Jin Guangyao wondered what Lan Xichen had told his uncle about him.

He wondered if Nie Mingjue had said something about him.

"Are you well?” Lan Qiren asked.

“Of course,” Jin Guangyao said, tucking his hands away and smiling.

“Mm,” Lan Qiren said, still neutral. They were silent for a few moments, Jin Guangyao waiting politely for Lan Qiren to start the conversation if he so wished and Lan Qiren remaining quiet. Jin Guangyao hated the tension and awkwardness of it – there hadn’t been any of that in the past. When he’d been Meng Yao, they’d spoken of so many things, free-flowing despite the difference in their statuses; why was it so different now that he was Jin Guangyao? He had not changed, other than getting what he had always deserved – why did people insist on acting as though there was?? Did Lan Qiren, like Nie Mingjue, think that the new name, the name that should always have been his, came with the stink and taint of corruption, a reminder of all the foul things he had done to win it…

“I don’t mean to overstep my boundaries.”

Jin Guangyao blinked at him, surprised by the suddenness of Lan Qiren’s statement.

“However, you should know that I have always held you in high regard,” Lan Qiren continued. “On the basis of that, I hope you can excuse my rudeness if I ask again – are you well?”

The question was more than mere small talk, then. Jin Guangyao supposed he wasn’t really surprised; it would be more of a surprise if Lan Qiren, who did not always understand the subtleties of human interaction, actually did engage in pointless small talk. Naturally his words were purposeful.

It was just that Jin Guangyao couldn’t quite figure out what that purpose was.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, cautious, and Lan Qiren raised his eyebrows.

“Because there has been a war,” he said dryly. “Because people have died or been injured, often in terrible ways, and all those that survived are scarred with loss. Because those scars might come not only from what has been done to them but from what they themselves have been forced to do. Because Wen Ruohan was never an especially good master of men, and he only grew crueler in his insanity; because being beside a person like that is harmful in itself, even putting aside anything else. Because your father hates change and the past most of all, and judges everyone by his own merits – or lack thereof. Because most people in the cultivation world are small-minded, petty and jealous, and will do anything they can to tear down those that they know, however much they deny it, are better than them. Because the fact that being recognized means that you should have a proper foundation, a family to back you and support you, does not mean that you do. Because a war does not simply end when the swords are put down…are you well, Jin Guangyao?”

He said the new name in exactly the same tone as he had once said Meng Yao.

Jin Guangyao swallowed.

As usual, Lan Qiren’s words were sharper than his not-inconsiderable sword, and aimed directly at the weak points exposed by Jin Guangyao’s own thoughts – the things he dwelled on late at night, his lingering resentments, those questions he put to himself without any satisfactory answer.

“Have you heard about my conduct during the war?” he asked instead of answering. “In detail, rather than in rumor?”

If he hadn’t, Jin Guangyao would have to tell him – and he didn’t want to. He didn’t have to relive those moments, and he didn’t want to have to twist them, either, glossing over the difficulties and struggles he’d endured, minimizing the atrocities he committed in order to solidify his position with Wen Ruohan, to use his agile and silver tongue to make sure all his actions were retrospectively painted in the best possible light…

“I have heard,” Lan Qiren said.

That wasn’t necessarily better. Who had he heard it from? From Lan Xichen, who would shade everything so far in Jin Guangyao’s favor that he needed not even speak a single sentence in his own defense? From Nie Mingjue, whose lack of trust meant that he saw everything Jin Guangyao did as suspicious, self-interested, and even deliberately cruel, the way Jin Guangyao could be but was not always? From some other third party, perhaps, who had a more balanced view – from the Lan sect’s spies, from its soldiers, from the ever-cold Lan Wangji…

“What do you think about it, then?”

Would he excuse Jin Guangyao? Would he condemn him?

Which one did Jin Guangyao even want?

Lan Qiren drank his tea, frowning thoughtfully.

“I think,” he said slowly, “that that is a question for you.”

Jin Guangyao blinked. “I don’t understand.”

Lan Qiren put down the teacup. “Let me ask it of you, then. Did you do the best you could? You are incredibly intelligent, as you well know; your grasp of logistics and management are second to none, and your insight into your fellow cultivators is startling in its clarity. You have a solid grasp of both strategy and tactics, and you think quickly enough to be able to both create and implement plans on the fly – you may be forced to the brink by circumstance, but you are cunning enough to usually find a way out, and to choose as to how you wish to do it. If you wish to be cruel, you will generally find a way; if you wish to be kind, you will find a way there, too. You, and you yourself, know better than anyone else whether I should be pleased or disappointed in you.”

Jin Guangyao didn’t know what to do with that.

“If you look me full in the face and tell me that you did everything that you could – that you only did the evil that you had no choice but to do, that you made every effort to reduce the harm you were doing and increase the good, that there were no instances where you were smart enough to think of a way to do better but chose, for whatever reason, not to – then I will believe you. Under such circumstances, no matter what you have done, I will not absolve you, for there will be nothing to be absolved; those who have no reason for shame need no forgiveness. But if you cannot say that, if you yourself can think of times where you failed to do your utmost, then you should be punished.”

“Punished?”

Lan Qiren nodded. “You know that this is the way of my sect,” he said. “We have our rules, and the rules say, Maintain your own discipline. The purpose of the rules is to help us do so. Those who violate the rules, as we all do at some time in our lives, are punished for that breach; when punishment is imposed, both the individual and the community learn. We learn that the behavior is condemned, that it is vital not to repeat it, that we must do better in the future. Even if you act wrongly in the dark, when no one knows and no one will ever discover, then you have still acted wrongly; it is only through the imposition of justice, of punishment commensurate with the deed, that there is a way to move forward. For if you do not pay for your wrongdoing, then it will remain with you always, dragging you down as if an anchor.”

Jin Guangyao had never thought of it that way before.

He wasn’t sure he necessarily agreed with that stance, either. If no one knew, then no one knew, right? No matter what he did, he could just tuck it away in his memory, somewhere seldom visited, and there would be no ghosts at his heels, no regrets, nothing.

Still, there was some appeal to the worldview Lan Qiren proposed. The idea that punishment would mean it would be over, once and for all, a signal that he had wronged in the past but that he had repented and would do better in the future; the notion that he could cleanse himself of guilt using something so fleeting as physical discomfort...

Lan sect punishments were mostly corporeal, weren’t they? Guest disciples and children might be set to writing copies, but for serious infractions – and in a war, everything you did was serious – it was punishment through pain. Those stiff stern faces like carven woodblocks, each one kneeling voluntarily to receive the punishment they deserved for their actions from those they trusted to mete it out fairly…

Jin Guangyao swallowed again, his throat suddenly dry.

“Would you do it?” he blurted out, barely aware of what he was saying. “Will you punish me?”

Lan Qiren blinked. “Me? Me personally?”

Jin Guangyao nodded – atypically for him, he hadn’t even thought about it before asking, but now that the idea was out there in the world, he had never wanted something more. He wanted Lan Qiren to hurt him the way he sometimes felt he deserved to be hurt for what he had done, for all those times when he thought to himself that he should have been able to find a better solution, that he was smart enough to have come up with some way out that didn’t end the way it did. For the times he did make the wrong choice, like murdering the Jin sect commander and ruining his relationship with Nie Mingjue; for the cruelties he inflicted at Wen Ruohan’s side, for the pleasure he had taken in them. All those mistakes, all those regrets…he wanted Lan Qiren to wipe the slate clean for him. He wanted catharsis.

He wanted release.

He wanted Lan Qiren to beat him, and then he wanted Lan Qiren to care for him. He wanted the other man’s hands upon him, gentle in the aftermath, rubbing salve into reddened flesh; he wanted to hear the other man praise him for how well he’d taken it, how well he’d done, how well he’d served.

“You know my position,” he said quickly, rapidly inventing a dozen arguments to explain why this course of action was not only acceptable but logical, reasonable, desirable. “My father is already wary enough of me; I can’t do anything that will embarrass him, anything that might lose face for the sect. Lanling Jin is not a safe place for punishment…anyway, I trust you. You will do it well – you know how much to inflict, and how to manage it, what needs to be done before and after. Who better that you? Who else could it be but you..? I don’t have a family, not really. I don’t have anyone else.”

Lan Qiren was staring at him, clearly surprised; his eyes were wide and round, then narrowed contemplatively as he thought it over. Jin Guangyao didn’t rush him, knowing Lan Qiren was not intentionally being rude in failing to respond immediately, but rather was genuinely considering his request from all angles. It was a sign of Lan Qiren’s regard that he would think first, answer later; if he cared less, he would have answered faster, but it would have almost certainly have been a refusal.

It didn’t make the wait any less agonizing.

“…very well,” Lan Qiren said after a long while. For some reason, he looked as if he’d made a more profound decision than simply agreeing to Jin Guangyao’s request. “Come with me.”

The pain was considerable, as Jin Guangyao had expected, but the feeling of Lan Qiren’s arms wrapped around him as he helped him to stand once more when it was done – the look of approval on his face, the expression of pride, of satisfaction – made it all worthwhile. For that feeling, Jin Guangyao would endure a thousand such punishments, and never once complain.

This was, Jin Guangyao thought to himself, getting a little out of control.

Chapter Text

Arranging a gorgeous and glamorous night-hunt on Phoenix Mountain within a few months of a war that had devastated the cultivation world was always going to be a tall order, but it was one Jin Guangyao felt he was more than capable of.

Making sure he wouldn't humiliate himself during the night hunt itself, on the other hand...

"You deride your own abilities," Lan Qiren said, strolling beside Jin Guangyao as calmly as if he were passing through the Cloud Recesses' carefully tended paths rather than spending an afternoon escorting Jin Guangyao through a forest on a trial run to practice his skills. "Surely you had many opportunities to banish evil during the war...even if not, at any rate, the principles largely transfer over. Fighting is fighting."

"I was never very martially inclined," Jin Guangyao said, feeling unaccountably nervous. He'd initially asked Lan Xichen for the favor, figuring that if he had to embarrass himself it had better be in front of the one person who would never criticize him for it, but at the last moment his sworn brother had been called away on sect business. Lan Qiren had volunteered to fill his place, complaining that he was tired of being harassed and pestered by doctors and family alike to do nothing but rest, claiming that he would appreciate the chance to get out and get some exercise.

It wasn’t as if Jin Guangyao could have said no after all that, could he?

"There's some tension with the handover of power," Lan Xichen had confided in him, pointlessly worried that Jin Guangyao might refuse the honor of Lan Qiren’s company. "Technically I became Sect Leader some time back, but my uncle managed the sect on the back lines during the war so the transition wasn't really felt. And, of course, he'd been managing the sect for so long already...he's trying his best to redirect all requests to me, but people keep forgetting. It doesn't help that he really does know the answer in almost every case! Anyway, he seems to genuinely like you, A-Yao. You don't mind, do you?" 

Jin Guangyao had confirmed that he did not mind in the slightest, and kept to himself that he thought it was even preferable in some ways - Lan Qiren, like Lan Xichen, was also not inclined to hold Jin Guangyao’s faults against him, and unlike Lan Xichen, Lan Qiren, at least, would not tax him with sad looks any time the conversation touched on a subject even tangentially related to Nie Mingjue, as if the coldness in their relationship were somehow his fault. 

On the other hand, traveling with Lan Xichen would also have involved notably fewer unexpected and inconvenient surges of lust. 

Jin Guangyao's one-time infatuation with his now sworn brother had been so completely eclipsed by his regard for said sworn brother’s uncle that he had been able to genuinely laugh when someone at Jinlin Tower had made some sort of snide implication on the subject. It hadn't even been intentional, as so many of his actions were - he'd just found it so funny to think of how they would have reacted if they knew who he really liked that he hadn’t been able to restrain himself - but that had turned out to be to his benefit in the end. People had been watching his reaction, and reports had apparently been made; his father had looked annoyed, as if Jin Guangyao’s disinterest in Lan Xichen had ruined yet another plot of his, and yet that had also been the moment that he had put down some of his guard against him, however begrudgingly. It took some figuring out for Jin Guangyao to understand why: it turned out that it was thoroughly out of fashion in Lanling City to cut your sleeve, and his preferences had somehow been noticed – it seemed that Jin Guangyao's father had suspected that Jin Guangyao’s loyalty might have been less than all-encompassing on account of those preferences, given how attractive both Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen were. Once he uncovered this suspicion of which he had been hitherto unaware, Jin Guangyao had been able to assure his father that he had no interest in any of the people on the list of the most desirable young masters, and to truly mean what he said...

In regards to the current generation, anyway.

Jin Guangyao shuddered to think what his father might have done to scheme against him if he really had still had that crush on Lan Xichen – he wouldn’t have been able to hide it, not from people as skilled in ferreting out secrets as his father’s spies. Most likely his father would have taken that as motivation to try to force Jin Guangyao into increasingly more terrible behavior, make him do all sorts of vile things designed to taint him to the point where the real truth about him would have disgusted Lan Xichen; that, in turn, would have given his father a handle on him, isolating him and cutting him off from anyone outside the Jin sect that could have helped him.

Well, luckily Jin Guangyao had found a new target for his infatuation…however inconvenient that might be at this exact moment.

When the current night-hunt had been planned out, Jin Guangyao had expected, even assumed, that they would be escorted by the usual set of Lan sect disciples, Lan Qiren taking the opportunity to act as a teacher as usual. He hadn't anticipated arriving to the agreed-on location and finding Lan Qiren standing there alone, waiting for him.

Apparently he'd been quite serious about wanting to avoid pestering.

And now they were walking side by side, swords at their sides, no one around for thousands of li except for some assorted yao and ghosts that had escaped the attention of the cultivation world due to the war, and which had proven impervious to all attempts to liberate them peacefully. All by themselves, where anything could happen...

"Anyway, I don't think the skills are as transferable as you might think," Jin Guangyao added ruefully, trying not to allow his musings (or, worse, his fantasies) interfere with their conversation. "Even in the battles I participated in, I was usually one in a crowd. The instincts you need are completely different."

"I suppose," Lan Qiren said, sounding dubious.

"I'm afraid this is my area of expertise, Teacher Lan," Jin Guangyao dared to tease. "You were raised learning how to fight both singularly and in groups, were you not? The Great Sects teach it from the very beginning. You've never known what it's like to lack that understanding."

"That is true," Lan Qiren conceded good-humoredly. "Balance is a fundamental principle. Yet one can see how the demands of war might result in a skewed prioritization..."

That got them on the subject of which skills were most important for war as opposed to night-hunting, and what might be the best way to convey those skills in a truncated fashion for the purposes of raising soldiers to battle-readiness as soon as possible. Jin Guangyao didn't have strong views on the subject, having spent the majority of the war as an aide rather than a leader of men, but Lan Qiren did, and he knew what the other sects’ views were as well. It made for fascinating listening, and it didn't take long before Jin Guangyao could play the part of the other side, using his mediation skills to broker a debate between Lan Qiren and some invisible opponent.

It was almost enough to make Jin Guangyao forget his plan.

It was a very straightforward plan, as such things went, probably due to the fact that he had come up with it on the spot upon seeing Lan Qiren standing there alone. Back in Lanling, Jin Guangyao pulled off three schemes of far greater complexity before breakfast each day, and in those cases he needed to contend with people scheming against him and a thousand unknown factors. Here, however, although the plan had been made very quickly, it was far easier: he was reliant only on his own skill, and just the slightest bit of luck...

It was all Lan Qiren's fault, to Jin Guangyao's mind. Who made the man be so handsome or his embrace so warm, perfectly firm and steady in all the right ways? Who let him be so perfect the last time they had met, holding Jin Guangyao in his arms for as long as he had liked after the punishment was done, letting him tuck his head under his chin and rest his hands on his chest to hear his heartbeat and feel his breath rising and falling? Who allowed for such a thing to so exquisitely and perfectly fulfill all of Jin Guangyao's most secret fantasies, for there to be a person who could sate so many of his unspoken desires without running afoul of his manifold fears?

Who had let Jin Guangyao grow completely obsessed with the memory of Lan Qiren's embrace? Who let him grow addicted to it, crazed by want of it - driven to desperation for need of more of it? 

Yes, it was clearly all Lan Qiren’s fault.

Accordingly, once Jin Guangyao had demonstrated some of his (limited) martial skills, just enough to show Lan Qiren that he really did know what he was doing, Jin Guangyao found a reason to be "startled" by some passing ghost and "instinctively" throw himself in front of Lan Qiren as if to block a blow. Naturally it was completely pointless – Lan Qiren, taken aback, forgot to hold back his strength and swiftly made mincemeat of the ghost – and resulted in nothing more than Jin Guangyao twisting his ankle on a rabbit hole.

"Guangyao! Are you all right?"

"Ah, don't worry," Jin Guangyao said, wincing as he pulled himself up to a sitting position against a tree trunk with Lan Qiren’s solicitous assistance. "Really, there's no cause for concern, Teacher Lan - it's all my fault, my incompetence. I told you my instincts weren't right for night-hunting..."

"Instincts can be overwritten with adequate practice. At the moment, I'm more concerned with your health," Lan Qiren said, as if he were one to talk. He looked worried, and the greater the concern on his face, the greater the warmth in Jin Guangyao’s chest. "Do you think you can walk? Or fly?"

"Well..." Jin Guangyao hedged, allowing a doubtful look onto his face as he tested his ankle (genuinely twisted and starting to swell, but actually not that bad – he’d always had problems with his ankles, and had grown accustomed to these things). "Perhaps if I had some time to put it up first? I don't dare go back to Jinlin Tower with it in this state, I'd be too embarrassed. I need to find somewhere to sit for a little while, somewhere safe...ah, actually, come to think of it, I think I saw an abandoned woodsman’s hut back some ways..."

He'd been hoping to finagle an offer of assistance, imagining Lan Qiren’s strong arm wrapped around his shoulder to offer support as he limped over to the house, but instead Lan Qiren frowned thunderously and simply scooped him up wholesale, lifting him as if he were as light as a feather and starting to walk purposefully back the way they came. 

"Teacher Lan!" Jin Guangyao squawked, having genuinely not expected such a thing...though he certainly didn't object to it. "You - your health!"

"I am very much recovered," Lan Qiren assured him. Jin Guangyao had to admit that the effortless manner in which he was moving with Jin Guangyao in his arms, no less composed than when he had been walking alone, did suggest that Lan Qiren’s health was doing better, as well as being devastatingly attractive. "While my health had been impaired by my injuries and will likely remain weaker than that of others for the rest of my life, the doctors have agreed that I am wholly capable of engaging in all the regular actions of daily life."

Given what Jin Guangyao knew of typical Lan sect arm strength, carrying a person was probably well within what they considered to be daily life. Still, Jin Guangyao decided to put in a token protest. 

He didn't get any further than "But..."

"Are you questioning my competence in such a small matter?" Lan Qiren’s tone was stern, and Jin Guangyao merely shook his head, pretending to be cowed but secretly enjoying himself. Truly, there was little more attractive than a man in full command, taking charge of a situation well within their abilities. "Good. Focus your attention on finding the woodsman's hut."

Jin Guangyao focused his attention on the feel of Lan Qiren's arms instead. With his memory, he knew exactly where the hut was - a reasonable enough distance when he'd been contemplating hobbling there but not nearly far away enough given the speed they were now moving at – and that meant that he could just luxuriate in the feeling of being carried, like a cat stretched out in a sunbeam. Like all Lan, Lan Qiren was ridiculously strong, high cultivation and muscle both, and Jin Guangyao felt wholly secure, with no fear of falling or anything like that.

It was quite simply the most comfortable form of transportation he had yet found. A pity it couldn’t be replicated...!

At any rate, his schemes and ambitions for the day had been completely fulfilled. But perhaps Jin Guangyao had done something especially virtuous recently, because not only did Lan Qiren carry him all the way to the hut and set him down on the rough bed there, he then proceeded to sit down on the other side of the bed and took Jin Guangyao's ankle into his lap to start kneading it with his hands.

Jin Guangyao made an unmentionable sound.

"I know it must be painful, but bear with it for a little while," Lan Qiren told him, either completely misinterpreting the sound or politely ignoring it – with what Jin Guangyao knew of Lan Qiren, it seemed more likely to be the former. "I have a salve that is useful for muscle pain. It will reduce the swelling."

He then matched action to word. First he removed Jin Guangyao's shoe and even pushed up his robes to the knee to get better access to his ankle, and then he slicked up his palms with the salve and started to work it into Jin Guangyao's ankle with his fingers.

Jin Guangyao was having a bit of a moment. 

Possibly a revelation.

"Tell me about something going on in your life," Lan Qiren suggested. "It will distract you."

Jin Guangyao seized on the idea with gusto, given that he’d started to worry that he’d otherwise completely lose control and do something crazy, like trying to kiss the older man or something. He spoke about the preparations he was making for the Phoenix Mountain hunt - he could spill the details to Lan Qiren without fear of ruining the surprise since the other man wasn't intending on attending, another gesture to shore up Lan Xichen's authority. He told him about some of the more amusing obstacles he'd encountered, some of the trickier problems he'd had to solve, some of the interesting people he'd met...

"I heard that you have recently been seen meeting regularly with Su Minshan of Moling Su," Lan Qiren said slowly. "Is that true?"

Jin Guangyao only hesitated momentarily before confirming it - it was true, and it was known to be true, so there was no point in denying it. What he didn't know, though, was what Lan Qiren’s reaction to that little tidbit might be. 

Su She had been a former disciple of the Lan sect, only he'd taken all those teachings and formed his own sect - not just going off on his own as a rogue cultivator, which would already be a waste of the techniques they'd so laboriously taught him, but teaching modified versions of those techniques to others! It was a disgrace to his teachers, including Lan Qiren among others, and outright insult to the Lan sect; quite a few shuffles had broken out between Lan sect disciples and the scarce handful of disciples Su She had managed to scrounge together. 

Yet Su She was also quite pleasant company, with a sharp mind and sharper tongue, a sense of humor and a very flattering sense of partiality and loyalty towards Jin Guangyao for something so small as remembering his name. Jin Guangyao would prefer not to have to abandon such a promising weiqi piece, and maybe even friend, if he didn't have to, and he'd been ignoring some of Lan Xichen's hints that perhaps he could find better company to spend his time with for just that reason. But he didn't know what Lan Qiren would think of his association with the other man...

"That's right," he said, pretending not to know what he knew. "Why do you ask?"

Lan Qiren was silent for a moment, though his hands did not stop their work.

At last he spoke. "Are you two at all close? Does he confide in you?"

Jin Guangyao blinked. The Lan sect rules said Do not speak of others behind their backs - surely it was impossible that Lan Qiren was asking him to spy...?

"I do not wish you to share any such confidences you may have heard," Lan Qiren assured him. "It is only...if it would not betray anything he has entrusted to you…you see, I wish to know what we did wrong."

Jin Guangyao stared. 

Lan Qiren noticed and flushed, the barest hint of red appearing on his cheeks. "Well, he was clearly unhappy, wasn't he? Not wanting to remain in a sect is one thing, anyone can want to go off on their own, but he started his own sect; he clearly doesn't object to being part of a collective. Some of the others in my sect say that he is merely vain, longing to be the one in power, dissatisfied with a secondary position, and I suppose that could be true, only - it does not accord with my memories of him as a student. If I could, I would want to know his perspective on the subject."

Jin Guangyao's heart was doing something in his chest that he didn't wholly understand, and it was more to do with the man in front of him than it was with Su She, however much he liked Su She. Lan Qiren had every reason to be upset, to be offended, to be angry - and he would be, eventually, if Su She persisted in his mockery of Lan sect traditions, upon which Lan Qiren had set his whole heart and being. But before all that, his very first instinct was not anger but worry - a teacher, seeing their student gone astray and wanting nothing more than to help them get back on track, to continue teaching long after the formal connection between them had been severed.

He didn't say anything, though, silently urging Lan Qiren to continue.

"I do not pretend that he would be welcome to return, nor do I deceive myself into thinking that he would want to, even if we repaired whatever it was that caused his dissatisfaction," Lan Qiren said. "I only wish to understand. If there was some cause for discontent, something so dire that he would not merely leave us but mock us as he has been - something must have caused that enmity! If it is some fault in us, then it must be corrected before others leave as he has done, and it must be apologized for properly to him. Surely there can be some means of establishing better relations between our sects before it reaches the point of no return...?"

"He has always spoken highly of you personally," Jin Guangyao said, happy that he could offer up that much truth at least, and Lan Qiren looked pleased and relieved, as he'd hoped. "Perhaps I could propose a meeting between the two of you..? You could discuss it among yourselves."

Lan Qiren looked even more pleased by that. "I would be greatly in your debt."

"Not at all, not at all, it's nothing. Merely connecting two friends of mine, who I wish to see on better terms - no effort at all."

"Mm," Lan Qiren said. "And what about you?"

"Me?"

"Are you not in a similar situation? I understand from Xichen that matters are still tense between you and Mingjue...?" 

Jin Guangyao winced, having not expected that familiar subject to come up here, though he supposed he should have; he had rather walked right into it. 

To his surprise, though, Lan Qiren did not admonish him or appeal to him to try harder to fix things, as Lan Xichen so often did. Instead, he asked, "Would you like me to talk to him about it?"

Jin Guangyao suppressed a smile, feeling warm at the offer. It was only a pity that, well... "I appreciate it, but it wouldn't do any good. It seems that da-ge is quite set on distrusting me, and trust, once broken, is the hardest thing to repair. I don't think there's anything you can say that we haven't both heard before."

"Ah, but I haven't been the one saying them," Lan Qiren said, a little haughty and, to Jin Guangyao's eyes, adorable with it. "Just you wait. I may be flattering myself, but I believe I am one of the few people he genuinely respects as an elder..."

For some reason, Lan Qiren’s voice trailed off and his hands paused from where they were still massaging Jin Guangyao's ankle. He lowered his gaze to it, frowning as if he had had an unpleasant thought. 

Despite that, what Lan Qiren said was, "I knew his father quite well. I remember Nie Mingjue as a child."

Jin Guangyao allowed himself, for one brief wild moment, to imagine a world where he had confessed his affections - impossible, of course - and that this was not merely a continuation of their existing conversation, but Lan Qiren’s way to try to say you know I'm too old for you, right? while saving face for them both. It would be a clumsy way of doing it, but that was only to be expected of the often too-literal Lan Qiren, who had taught himself subtlety by force of will rather than any natural instinct. 

"That's good, then," Jin Guangyao said with a smile, and allowed it to mean I don't mind your age at all, even if only to himself. "Then you have experience in him being childish; I can only see that as aiding you. There are many times where the experience and wisdom of the seniors is preferable to the enthusiasm of us juniors."

Was he going too far in comparing them to members of the same generation, minimizing the difference between them?

Maybe he was, but Lan Qiren did not take offense. On the contrary, he seemed reassured, and even started up his massage once more, even though surely the salve was all applied by now.

"The rules say to honor one's elders," Lan Qiren agreed, his eyes curving a little in satisfaction. "And to respect one's juniors as well. It is always an interesting period when the new generation rises to eclipse their predecessors."

"Ah, but Teacher Lan isn't an elder," Jin Guangyao protested, smiling at him. "A senior, to be sure, but an elder..? You're not that old – you couldn’t have been that senior among your own peers!"

Lan Qiren actually chuckled. 

"I did indeed have the dubious honor of being the youngest of my own generation, particularly in the major sects," he admitted and Jin Guangyao felt a surge of excitement - he'd heard from somewhere that there had been something of an age difference between Lan Qiren and the long-absent Qingheng-jun, seemingly now confirmed. And if that were true, then the age difference between them really wasn't so very excessive at all; there were older men with younger wives out there. Why should it be any different for cutsleeves?

"So you're saying that you're practically an older brother, are you?” he joked. “Perhaps I should be calling Teacher Lan 'gege'."

Lan Qiren snorted. "Insolence." 

But he didn't sound angry.

"I would never dare," Jin Guangyao assured him, his own smile widening. "Anyway, there's no need. I like Teacher Lan just the way he is."

"And I you," Lan Qiren said.

Jin Guangyao really ought to just accept the victory he already had, to take it and treasure it in his heart like the first piece of coal in a long winter without. But he couldn't resist trying just yet little bit more, asking, "What, really? Mistakes and all?"

"Yes, all together," Lan Qiren said, serious as ever; he'd missed Jin Guangyao's joking tone entirely. "There's no point in it otherwise, isn't there?"

Jin Guangyao frowned slightly, not understanding. "What do you mean?"

"No person is without fault. Our family rules are inscribed upon the Wall of Discipline; is that not an admission that we expect our disciples to break them? It is only in the whole of a person – the rule, the breach, the repair – that there is a life wholly lived. If the only thing you offer to the world, to your enemies and your friends alike, is a mask, an illusion of perfection, then you will forever be haunted by the fear that the only thing they love is that mask, and not you. Live well, live righteously - Be amicable and unedited, be of one mind. Believe sincerely. Be the person you would have the world know you as."

Jin Guangyao wanted to laugh. It was almost as absurd an idealism as Nie Mingjue’s, only Lan Qiren’s toneless voice, so full of conviction, was somehow more to his taste. 

"And if the mask is the only part of you that's worthwhile?" he asked.

"Impossible," Lan Qiren said firmly. "That you have chosen to wear the mask at all is a sign of your good faith...ah, Guangyao, do you think we would need all these rules if we expected people to be innately good? To always know the right path, to always walk the right way, to never falter? Some people may be like that, but the rest of we imperfect people must nevertheless fumble our way forward to the best of our ability."

That sounded nice. Certainly easier than Nie Mingjue’s impossible to meet expectation of intrinsic righteousness, which Jin Guangyao always seemed to be falling short of. 

"You should always have someone with whom to share your doubts," Lan Qiren said. "Someone you can speak with when you don't know the right way forward, when you are questioning your understanding of the rules. It ought to be your family, but if the heavens do not give you what you need, you must seize it for yourself."

Like a trusted lover, Jin Guangyao thought. 

"Like a sworn brother?" he said instead.

Lan Qiren looked at him thoughtfully. "Yes, of course," he said, and gave his ankle a final squeeze. "Sworn brothers, and friends as well; that is only as it should be. Know that we are here for you. Now - try standing on that once more. Let me help you."

As Lan Qiren took Jin Guangyao into his arms once more, helping him stand on an ankle that no longer hurt in the slightest, Jin Guangyao had a moment of realization: he really had been right, before, to describe himself as being crazed. He was crazed - he was sick with want, consumed by desire. The only thing he had ever wanted more in his life was his name and respect; the former he already had achieved, the latter was impossible, and that left only this, that he wanted Lan Qiren more than anything else in the world. 

But how could he take advantage of Lan Qiren's kindness like this?

Chapter Text

It turned out that either Lan Qiren was a miracle worker or else Jin Guangyao had made a serious strategic error regarding how to effectively manage his eldest sworn brother. He liked to think it was the former, but he had the sinking suspicion it might very well be the latter.

At any rate, Nie Mingjue had barely arrived at the Phoenix Mountain hunt before he was pulling Jin Guangyao aside and - well, he still berated him, but anyone who knew Nie Mingjue well could tell the difference between a genuine tongue-lashing filed with anger and a friendly scolding that was the big lunk’s method of expressing affection, and this was definitely the second sort. 

"Why didn't you tell me you'd arranged a punishment for your conduct with Teacher Lan?" Nie Mingjue demanded, sounding incredibly put-upon, as if Jin Guangyao has personally wronged him in neglecting to mention that very private personal interaction. "Do you know how much peace of mind it would have given me?"

Jin Guangyao stared. 

"I...didn't realize da-ge would care," he said carefully, since he was pretty sure his knee-jerk understanding of Nie Mingjue’s statement had to be wrong. Nie Mingjue wasn't like Lan Qiren, wholly disinterested in matters of physical lust, but he was remarkably oblivious to innuendo, even when it was obvious - Nie Huaisang had apparently inherited all the lasciviousness in the family. There was no way that Nie Mingjue was saying that he would have wanted to know all about Jin Guangyao getting beaten and then cared for in a way that had featured heavily in his nighttime self-satisfaction since that time…right?

"Of course I would! Have I been flapping my mouth for nothing all this time?" Seemingly seeing something in Jin Guangyao's face, probably a lack of understanding, Nie Mingjue sighed. "Ah, it looks like Teacher Lan was right. You really haven't been understanding what I've been trying to get at these past few months."

"Would da-ge like to enlighten me?" Jin Guangyao asked, deciding that Nie Mingjue’s inexplicably good mood allowed him to be a little impertinent. Nie Mingjue had liked him acting like that before it had all gone wrong, though he hadn’t dared to risk it in the time since.

Sure enough, the man just smirked, visibly amused, and absently smacked him in the shoulder in what was clearly more encouragement than censure. Lightly, for him, but still enough to stagger a man of Jin Guangyao's stature if he hadn't braced himself in advance. 

"I thought you felt no remorse at all for everything you’d done," Nie Mingjue explained. "People like that show up every once in a while, and they're invariably trouble - or worse, if they're also clever. You're brilliant, A-Yao. If you didn't know what guilt was, you could bring forth calamities!"

Jin Guangyao had absolutely no idea how Nie Mingjue’s brain worked.

He could understand the logic, a bit - the sort of person who felt no guilt at all for anything they’d done would indeed be terrifyingly unrestrained, capable of any atrocity, especially if they had a mind like Jin Guangyao's - but he had no idea how Nie Mingjue’s suspicious questioning of all his actions was meant to teach him the concept if he hadn't known it before. Nor could he understand how everything was better now that he had agreed on a punishment with Lan Qiren, given that he was exactly the same person he'd been before, still willing to make tough choices if it meant achieving his ambitions.

Was the idea just that his willingness to accept a punishment – any punishment – suggested to Nie Mingjue that he had an innate moral boundary and therefore could be trusted to keep to it in the future? Or did Nie Mingjue think that in making the request, he had made a demonstration of regret that could only be appeased by cathartic punishment, showing that the guilt Nie Mingjue had wanted to see was in there after all, albeit well-hidden?

Possibly Nie Mingjue would be less enthusiastic about all of this if he realized that Jin Guangyao had been getting off on both the punishment and care he received afterwards. 

…all the more reason not to tell him.

(It occurred to Jin Guangyao that it was also possible that perhaps Nie Mingjue just respected - or maybe feared - Lan Qiren to such a degree that he just assumed any absolution granted by him was valid. But if that were the case, Jin Guangyao might have to think about what it might mean that Lan Qiren had given him that absolution, and he...wasn't sure he wanted to think about that.)

It was nice to be back on Nie Mingjue’s good side, though. Jin Guangyao had never exactly taken the other man’s regard for granted, he didn’t think, but having lost it certainly brought into focus how important it had been to have it – the last few months had given him some insight into why Wen Ruohan had been so annoyed by Nie Mingjue. The man was damnably persistent! Like a dog with a bone, he never let anything go; once he decided you were up to something, there was simply no convincing him otherwise. Yet on the other side, if he believed in you, there was no one more loyal, and there were practically no limits to the support he would offer.

Lan Xichen was delighted by this new development, of course, but more importantly, Jin Guangyao was finally able to just ask Nie Mingjue for things again, and that made his life so much easier. When he noticed that Wei Wuxian had siphoned off nearly a third of the prey he’d arranged for the night-hunt, with another third already in the process of rapidly falling to the Nie sect's sabers, he didn’t have to panic or scheme to try to bring in more, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop either sect from completely dominating the field – instead, he just flew over to Nie Mingjue’s side to point out the problem.

"Oh, well, I suppose we should let everyone else have some fun, even if their talent is insufficient to get the prey in a fair match," Nie Mingjue said, disturbingly cheerful as he wiped his saber clean. Jin Guangyao had no idea what martially inclined people like Nie Mingjue got out of night-hunting, but it was clearly something considerable; the man looked positively blissful. "You’re not wrong that the smaller sects might be resentful otherwise…ah, you know what, I'll just go talk to Wei Wuxian myself, tell him to stop. You can redistribute the remaining beasts for all the rest."

"Thank you, da-ge," Jin Guangyao said gratefully, and left to do just that. 

Thanks to his timely intervention, the rest of the event was an overwhelming success, with smaller sects left and right able to boast about their prowess to each other without feeling shamed by having been so thoroughly outclassed. The only wrinkle was that Jin Guangyao belatedly realized, from some of the rumors that some people rather unsuccessfully tried to start circulating, that his father had been hoping to use the event to start trouble for Wei Wuxian, knowing that the man’s arrogance and rudeness would probably lead him to stamp on the faces of others without care for how they might feel about it. Unfortunately for those plans, to which Jin Guangyao had not been made privy, the smaller sects had had a very good time once Nie Mingjue left the field and somehow managed to get Wei Wuxian to stop as well, meaning that they had little rancor and even less interest in picking fights instead of celebrating, and moreover the starring actor in the planned play was nowhere in appearance - apparently he hadn't been seen since Nie Mingjue had gone after him. 

Actually, come to think of it, Jin Guangyao hadn't seen Nie Mingjue since then either, not even when the Nie sect had come to collect their much-deserved first place tie with the Jiang sect. Perhaps they'd gotten into an argument and retreated to their respective camps to sulk? 

But no, they both appeared a little later at dinner, each one looking completely unscathed, and Wei Wuxian even looked unusually lively - he normally had a pallor that resembled his ghouls, dark circles under his eyes and a gloomy atmosphere, but today he was positively exuberant, talking excitedly with Jiang Cheng about something that was making the latter man hold his hands over his ears in a thoroughly undignified matter. Nie Mingjue looked the same as ever, at least, though for some reason he seemed to be spending his time pestering an even more wooden-faced than usual Lan Wangji instead of mingling with the group at large or retreating to hide next to Lan Xichen the way he usually did when he started losing patience with these events.

That, in turn, freed Lan Xichen to come spend time with Jin Guangyao – his second sworn brother might be better at faking it, but secretly he hated large crowds just as much as Nie Mingjue did – and his smilingly oblivious presence meant that no one in the Jin sect dared to come make trouble for him. On the contrary, Lan Xichen very cheerfully went around boasting to everyone that it had been Jin Guangyao that had arranged the entire event, insisting on making a point of it despite Jin Guangyao’s demurrals…if the event had turned into a disaster, as it had briefly threatened to, Lan Xichen’s behavior would have been embarrassing and caused him more trouble later on, but as it was Jin Guangyao thought he’d be able to sell the situation to his father as his attempt to keep the focus on the Jin sect’s success rather than a self-centered attempt to increase his own standing.

It was all very pleasant, which made how awful the next few months were even starker by comparison.

Jin Guangyao’s father was not inclined to believe Jin Guangyao had been acting for the sect’s benefit rather than his own, and he was irrationally angry that Jin Guangyao had solved the problem of Wei Wuxian’s arrogance in such a way that he couldn’t capitalize upon it for his own purposes – even though he hadn’t told Jin Guangyao that that was what he’d wanted. He was even more angry that Jin Guangyao had repaired his relationship with Nie Mingjue, despite having previously demanded that Jin Guangyao do just that, and his anger was only magnified by the fact that Nie Mingjue seemed to have increased his visits to the Lotus Pier as of late – perhaps he thought that Jin Guangyao had encouraged his eldest sworn brother to be more interested in events outside of Qinghe, which he most certainly hadn’t.

It burned when his father scolded him, and burned still more when he threw things that Jin Guangyao wasn’t allowed to dodge, whether writing blocks that bruised him or still-full teacups that scalded him in a more literal fashion. It burned when his father very pointedly continued to favor Jin Zixun in every instance over Jin Guangyao, despite the other man’s obvious stupidity, and burned most of all when Jin Zixun casually used Jin Guangyao as his scapegoat for all sorts of things, with Jin Guangyao’s father fully aware of the lies and yet wholly supporting them regardless…

Jin Guangyao was starting to realize that there was simply no way to win over someone who didn’t want to be won over. There was no merit, no talent, no success, no scheme that would work – there would never be a moment that his father would ever see him as anything less than trash that had forced its way into his home. There would never be a moment when Madame Jin stopped wanting to hurt him for disturbing her life, for having dared to want even a fraction of what she thought belonged to her son, even though it was a fraction so small that Jin Zixuan would never notice the absence.

Jin Guangyao’s first instinct in response to this was to double down and try even harder to win his father’s appreciation, however begrudging. He had never been willing to accept no as a final answer. He had always been persistent, even foolishly so, and yet it had always worked out for him in the end, so far – he had been cast out of Lanling City and had returned in triumph and glory (of a sort), he had lost Nie Mingjue’s regard through his own actions and then won it back, he had been told that he would never make anything of himself and yet see how far he had come…

He would have done it, too, but then he had remembered what Lan Qiren had said, about family and about being supported, and suddenly he’d felt empty, as if all the gold and glory he was fighting so hard for would never, in the end, fulfil the need deep inside of him. It occurred to him that even if he did work harder, smarter, even if he schemed and plotted and ultimately succeeded in forcing his father to give him some small measure of what was his due, that even then it still wouldn’t satisfy him, because he would always know that it had not been genuine.

His father would never voluntarily accept him, or appreciate him. He would never respect him. And wasn’t that what Jin Guangyao really wanted?

The realization was unhelpful. Jin Guangyao was already here in Lanling City, trapped in misery, having bound himself in the chains of filial piety to a man he could not bring himself to genuinely respect – there had to be some way out, some way through, or else what was the point of all the suffering he’d endured?

He wished he had someone to confide in.

Someone with whom to share your doubts, Lan Qiren had said. Someone to speak with when you don’t know the way forward, when you’re questioning your understanding…

A spouse would do that, maybe. A trusted lover would be better.

(Lan Qiren would be better.)

But that wasn’t really appropriate, so Jin Guangyao wrote to Lan Xichen instead.

He couldn’t actually share his troubles with Lan Xichen – even if they were brothers, they belonged to different sects, and that was an impassible divide between them. Even if Jin Guangyao was frustrated with his father, with the entire Jin sect, he couldn’t say it, not with the way he knew they read his mail, and not even if they hadn’t; until he decided once and for all that he was done with them, he would say nothing and leave no trace of his indecision. He would take being alone over being unsafe.

He did allow himself, in a brief moment of weakness, to ask about Lan Qiren, mentioning some mundane conversation they’d had and asking if Lan Qiren had had any further thoughts on the subject. He was careful to frame it in such a way that there would be nothing that anyone would see anything suspicious in; most people would probably only see it as an inquiry raised wholly out of politeness, a fiction that need not even be addressed in response…but he wanted that response. He longed for it.

He was sure that Lan Xichen, good filial child, good brother and nephew that he was, would not hesitate to actually ask Lan Qiren if he had anything further to pass along on the subject, and he was equally certain that Lan Qiren would be unable to keep himself from insisting on including several pages of his thoughts, filling pages with words that Jin Guangyao could use to distract himself.

He was surprised, therefore, when Lan Xichen’s next letter wasn’t long at all.

On the contrary, it did little more than beg Jin Guangyao’s indulgence and asking if he could inquire with his father whether Jinlin Tower could spare Jin Guangyao for a little while to come to the Cloud Recesses to help supervise some aspects of the rebuilding that were proving particularly tricky – there was some work that Lan Xichen thought Jin Guangyao was especially suited to handling, if he had the time.

“I suppose it’s good that they’re coming to us and seeking our help,” Jin Guangyao’s father grumbled, throwing down the note when Jin Guangyao brought it to him. “Though the request should have come to me…don’t these Lan pride themselves on their etiquette and propriety? You’d think they’d know better!”

Jin Guangyao didn’t point out that only a subsidiary sect would address all their requests directly to the sect leader, and that the Lan were not, and would never be, another sect’s subsidiary. He didn’t point out that the only reason the Lan had any tie at all with Lanling Jin was through his personal relationship with Lan Xichen, and it had been Jin Guangyao himself that had been asked for help, not the Jin sect more generally. He didn’t point out that it would have been a mortal insult to him if Lan Xichen had asked his father to send him, as if Jin Guangyao were merely a servant kept around the house that could be lent out at his master’s will.

He kept it all locked down tightly behind his smile, and let his father complain about it. Complain about Lan sect arrogance, complain yet again about Nie Mingjue not bowing his head to age and experience (as if he ever would), complain about how inconvenient it was that the Lan sect was making the request now, right before yet another party they were planning – this one to be hosted by Jin Zixun, who wanted glory similar to Jin Guangyao’s Phoenix Mountain Hunt except without the work that went into it, which in reality meant that everyone expected Jin Guangyao to do all the preparations and claim none of the credit – and how it would be such a bother, such a pest, even though obviously a request from another Great Sect couldn’t be so easily turned down for such petty reasons…

In the end, his father begrudgingly agreed that he could go.

“A-Yao, I’m so happy you could make it,” Lan Xichen said, face full of genuine smiles. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Er-ge has barely been gone long enough to miss me,” Jin Guangyao teased. “Anyway, aren’t you coming to Lanling soon enough for the party..? You could have seen me then.”

“Don’t talk to me of missing you; I would have you be here all the time if I could,” Lan Xichen said, shaking his head. “Anyway, I’m the one to blame, it was me that invited you here so urgently, even at risk of making you miss that party, for which I apologize.”

“No need to apologize, I don’t mind missing it at all,” Jin Guangyao said, having never meant anything more in his life. Providing requested aid to one of his sworn brothers was quite possibly the only excuse that would serve to explain his absence at an event thrown by his family, and it also very neatly served as a reason why he wasn’t the one playing host when he’d done such a good job last time – it would have started rumors about his incompetence if he’d only served as door-greeter after having previously managed everything, something Jin Zixun had known and no doubt maliciously intended, but now instead everyone would just shrug it off by saying that he was naturally too busy with important matters to bother with something so minor…

On reflection, it occurred to Jin Guangyao that it was quite possible that the Lan sect’s “ill-timed” request been deliberately aimed to achieve that very end. Lan Xichen wasn’t quite savvy enough yet in the ways of sect politics to think of such a move, but Lan Qiren certainly was.

“What is the work you need help with?” he asked, now genuinely curious. “I thought your rebuilding was well in hand…?”

“It is, it is,” Lan Xichen said, waving a hand. “It’s actually my uncle.”

I knew it!

Jin Guangyao rejoiced privately, but kept his expression neutral in case of watchers. “Oh?”

“Mm, yes. It’s something of the same difficulties as last time – he wants to get involved, but doesn’t want to impede my authority. Given your expertise in logistics and in managing people, he suggested you might be able to help us with coming up with a way to balance the two.”

Jin Guangyao nodded. He could most certainly do that.

“Though unfortunately it seems that events have passed us by,” Lan Xichen added, and looked a bit contrite. “In between the time I wrote to you and your arrival, my uncle has fallen ill once more. He’s quite upset over it, as grumpy as anything; I know he was looking forward to seeing you, and of course we both deplore having wasted your time in coming here…”

“No waste of time at all,” Jin Guangyao said, a plan immediately springing to mind. “Let me help care for him while you attend the party.”

Lan Xichen looked surprised. “What? No, A-Yao, I couldn’t possibly ask –”

“I insist,” Jin Guangyao said firmly. “It’s very important to my father that you attend, though I know you are too filial to leave your uncle while he’s unwell. Isn’t this a perfect solution? You know your uncle and I get along well. We can discuss strategies for how he can help with rebuilding without impacting your authority while I care for him, and with any luck, the intellectual stimulation will help improve his mood.”

“But surely you have better things to do with your time than play nurse for my uncle…”

Jin Guangyao very firmly crushed the thought of exactly how much he would enjoy playing nurse underfoot, deciding that it was something he could dwell on at greater length later that night when he was alone in his bed.

“I don’t mind,” he said, in what was probably the understatement of the century. “Please, er-ge, you know I’m grateful to your uncle for all that he’s done for me. Let me help.”

It probably said something about Jin Guangyao that he would weasel his way into getting the chance to dote on Lan Qiren the way he often longed to do by pretending to be grateful, when in fact he was grateful. He didn’t care to think about it too much, though, because it would only make him feel like he didn’t deserve the chance, which was a pointless feeling; in the end, he didn’t care if he was unworthy, as long as he got to do it anyway.

Lan Qiren was indeed grumpy as anything, just as Lan Xichen had warned, his ill health making him even tetchier and shorter in temper than usual, but Jin Guangyao didn’t mind it in the slightest. Not when he got to take advantage of caring for him to insist on helping him sit up or move around, getting regular chances to steal embraces that he allowed to linger a little more than necessary.

Lan Qiren allowed it.

Jin Guangyao even allowed himself to imagine that Lan Qiren was hugging him back when he did, feeling the other man’s arms tighten around him more than once or twice – but surely that was only the fever that chilled had him, making Lan Qiren instinctively reach out for a source of warmth.

Nothing more.

Chapter Text

Jin Guangyao had lived a largely unfortunate life. Between the circumstances of his birth and the travails of his childhood, he was used to encountering bad luck and misfortune whenever he went, some of it even self-caused…and yet, ever since he had fallen for Lan Qiren, his fortunes had unaccountably turned good.  

Most recently, for instance, there was the fact that he was in the Cloud Recesses when Wei Wuxian decided to crash the party being held in Jinlin Tower, publicly confront Jin Zixun, and then blow up the entire cultivation world by raiding a work camp to steal away the remaining members of the Wen sect, killing or injuring some Jin sect guards while he was at it. Not only did his absence mean that Jin Guangyao did not have to deal with the actual event itself – he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from trying to intervene and saying something, no matter how much he knew it was a bad idea, and it probably would have just pissed off everyone involved, not to mention his father – but he was also simply too far away to be pulled into dealing with the consequences.

And there were so many consequences.

Jiang Cheng was naturally too close to the situation to be trusted as an objective voice, everyone knew how close he was to Wei Wuxian – and some of those rumors Jin Guangyao’s father had tried to plant about them being at odds, or Wei Wuxian not respecting Jiang Cheng’s authority, back during the Phoenix Mountain hunt suddenly made a reappearance, not to mention a great deal more sense – but to everyone’s surprise both Nie Mingjue and, even more surprisingly, Lan Wangji came out to publicly and strongly advocate in favor of an objective investigation of the facts.

It was a stunningly aggressive posture, suggesting as it did that those testifying as to Wei Wuxian’s behavior, all people from the Jin sect whose testimony Jin Guangshan had accepted, were liars and up to something nefarious; Jin Guangyao scarcely believed that anyone had dared to declare it out loud. It was only just barely possible given the people involved, and even then it was amazingly risky. If Nie Mingjue hadn’t just been the commander of the entire Sunshot Campaign, and a sect leader of an extraordinarily powerful sect, currently rampantly ascendant, with unshakable loyalty from his sect disciples and no reason to get himself involved – if Lan Wangji hadn’t had such a pristine reputation as a war hero of unquestionable integrity and extreme competence, famous for being a perfect gentleman, refined and scholarly, and an obedient devotee of his sect’s strict rules – if they hadn’t both made their declarations separately from each other, under such circumstances that they could in no way have be said to have conferred on the subject in advance –

Change any one of those, and it would have been an utter disaster.

Nie Mingjue was a Nie, from a family line known for qi deviations; it wouldn’t have been too hard to imply that he’d simply lost his mind and use the incident to strip away some of the power his glowing reputation had accrued to his sect – but the Lan had no such history, and Lan Wangji himself was renowned for his clear-sightedness and ability to keep a level head under any circumstances. Lan Wangji, in turn, could have been cast as simply naïve, out of touch and too inclined to extend the benefit of the doubt, to forgive even those that ought not be forgiven like those few remaining Wen – but Nie Mingjue was notorious for his deep and abiding hatred of all people surnamed Wen, and moreover for his ruthless and hardnosed practicality; no one could believe he’d been conned into extending forgiveness. And because they had spoken separately, Nie Mingjue first and Lan Wangji next, there could be no allegation that this was simply some blown-up inter-sect scheme on the part of some of the Great Sects to undermine another, even assuming that people could be led to believe such a thing about the painfully straightforward Nie Mingjue and Lan Wangji to begin with.

Naturally, Jin Guangyao’s father was furious.

Jin Guangyao was summoned back from the Cloud Recesses immediately – he made his apologies to a still-convalescent but significantly improved Lan Qiren, who looked worried about him – and the second he arrived, was promptly scolded quite viciously by his father for allowing his sworn brotherhood to outweigh his duty to his family. The lecture was entirely uncalled for, since Jin Guangyao had had nothing to do with the entire situation, had gotten his father’s permission to go in the first place, and probably wouldn’t have been able to do anything differently about it anyway, but it was plainly clear that his father had no interest in fairly apportioning things like credit and blame.

Jin Guangyao didn’t say anything, just bowed his head and accepted it. What else could he do?

In the end his father dismissed him in disgust, instructing him to continue with all the things he’d been previously doing – of which the only one of any importance that he was still allowed to work on was hunting down any other cultivators that had managed to work out some of the secrets of Wei Wuxian’s demonic cultivation, since it was clear that Wei Wuxian himself would be utterly intractable.

Jin Guangyao was perfectly aware that his father’s motivations in doing all of this was to obtain Wei Wuxian’s extraordinary power for himself, but it hadn’t been said explicitly; if one wanted to, one could lie to oneself and think that all these people were being collected for the purpose of heightening the Jin sect’s understanding of the threat that the other man posed. That was certainly the lie Jin Guangyao intended to use if anyone asked him about it – and anyway, due to him having been too busy with first the Phoenix Mountain hunt and then helping his sworn brothers, he was rather late to the entire thing. Unlike some of the others involved in the project, he’d only found a single potential candidate: Xue Yang, a delinquent from Kuizhou, a noxious brat that was barely out of childhood.

If Jin Guangyao wanted to get his father’s attention and approval, what he should do was double down on showing that Xue Yang could do what he claimed he could, and that meant getting him test subjects to work on, dead corpses and newly-dead besides. In truth, he needed to do something extraordinary after the ‘failure’ that was his poorly-timed visit to the Cloud Recesses – his father was displeased with him, and as a result Jin Guangyao was being iced out of everything. He was no longer welcome in strategic discussions, banished from any work that involved Jin sect secrets, and even his mere presence was now only barely tolerated at family dinners. His father had even started talking about bringing another child back to recognize and give the name ‘Guang’ to, just to show how unimportant such a thing was, only – and here he always paused with a sorrowful look – it really did seem like too much effort to go to when those children raised outside of Lanling were so unskilled and unhelpful, and would be merely a burden on the family.

As if the Jin sect would notice a thousand such burdens.

Oh, yes, Jin Guangyao knew what he should do. His father was clearly hinting at him that he needed to see results, and fast. Normally, Jin Guangyao would be straining at the bit at the mere hint of a chance to redeem himself…but he was having some trouble getting the motivation together to do it. Perhaps it was the dispiriting hypocrisy of his father’s lecture, which had obviously been just blowing off steam but so incredibly pointless that it was hard to justify, perhaps it was the contrast between Lan Qiren’s obvious regard for him and his father’s disdain…either way, Jin Guangyao went through the motions of fulfilling his father’s request, because he couldn’t not, but he didn’t go out of his way for it. Xue Yang got his corpses and his newly-dead, yes, but he got them in small numbers from shady deals in the marketplace, bribing graveyard men, and not, as the little monster had suggested with relish, from slaughtering a few inconvenient dissenters in smaller sects that no one would listen to.

Jin Guangyao’s father had liked that idea. Jin Guangyao had seen it on his face that he did – but if Jin Guangshan wanted Jin Guangyao to commit outright murder, an act that even Lan Qiren might have trouble forgiving him for, then he would need to make that crystal clear, and to make the benefits that came with having done so outweigh the disadvantages. Jin Guangyao liked to be of service, liked to make people happy, and naturally yearned for his father’s approval, but he found that he liked far more caring for someone like Lan Qiren, who could be querulous and tetchy and downright ungrateful at times but begrudgingly sincere in his thanks, than he liked pleasing his father, for whom there seemed to be no real pleasing.

No, he wasn’t going to mess up the relationship he actually liked in favor of one he had started to need less and less, or at least he wouldn’t without an explicit order. As a result, instead of reacting to being iced out by fighting even harder than before for his father’s approval as he would have done before, Jin Guangyao, for the first time in his life, just…coasted.

He’d never done it before. He was, he knew, a painfully ambitious man; he schemed as easily as he breathed, and he simply didn’t have the personality to sit back and relax while things were happening around him. But he had a spiteful side to him, too, a resentful and angry side even if he expressed it through small jabs in the dark instead of something more like Nie Mingjue’s straightforward anger, and he expressed it now by pointedly focusing his efforts in other directions.

For instance, setting up a meeting between Lan Qiren and Su She.

That seemingly simple task actually turned out to require rather a great deal of effort. Su She was quite reasonably nervous about the possibility of it being some sort of trap, given the Lan sect’s overall dislike of everything he’d done since he’d left them behind, and while he trusted Jin Guangyao, their relationship was fairly new and on unsteady ground; he very clearly didn’t know how far his trust could take him, and that meant Jin Guangyao had to ensure the meeting had all sorts of security measures to give him comfort. Meanwhile, Lan Qiren was very firm about not wanting it to be an official meeting or even a known one, since he wasn’t planning on telling anyone in his sect what he was about until after he’d accomplished his goal – he’d stressed to Jin Guangyao how important it was to make clear that he was acting in his personal capacity, not as representative of his sect, and that he would have no authority to make any promises at all – and that meant Jin Guangyao somehow had to arrange for the meeting to be private and secret, but not so much so that it would raise Su She’s suspicions. This was further complicated by Lan Qiren’s recent illness, from which he had now recovered, but which had made his entire sect flutter around him like terrified butterflies, determined to keep an eye on him lest he get sick once more…

It was a good way to divert his brain for a while, and in the end Jin Guangyao managed to pull it off.

Su She arrived first, well ahead of the meeting time, looking visibly nervous and upset, but Jin Guangyao was able to appease him (and keep him from fleeing, as he very clearly longed to do) and distracted him with a plate full of his favorite snacks, particularly featuring a type of incredibly addictive semi-spicy nut mix that Jin Guangyao had first encountered back in Yunping and had used to great effect since then. Lan Qiren was next, arriving with dignity (and no little exasperation, having clearly gotten to the point of threatening to get rid of his accompanying retinue by beating them off with a stick), and he nodded regally to Jin Guangyao in greeting.

Jin Guangyao saluted in return, then went in to make introductions before politely absenting himself.

While they were talking, he wandered through the gardens not far from the pavilion where Su She and Lan Qiren were having their meeting, making sure to keep a purposeful look of thinking very hard on his face to ensure that no one tried to pull him into doing any other type of work. In fact, he was thinking very hard, only the subject of his thoughts was, as it so often was, Lan Qiren.

Specifically, their manner of greeting. A nod like that was a perfectly normal sort of greeting, perfectly appropriate between people of two separate sects and two separate generations who were on good terms with each other; it was even the sort of greeting you would expect to see within a sect, the precise sort of way Lan Xichen greeted Lan Qiren as well. They weren’t commoners, after all, you couldn’t expect them to greet each other every time with an embrace the way the brothel girls in Yunping had greeted each other – no, sadly, that would be too easy, wouldn’t it? If Jin Guangyao wanted to get more of that delightfully addicting feeling of Lan Qiren’s arms tight against him, he would need to scheme for it the way he’d schemed for all the others. Naturally, of course, he couldn’t repeat himself too often, or else he would allow there to be some room for suspicion…how else could he make it work, anyway?

Jin Guangyao amused himself for a while in trying to think of scenarios, ranging from the more likely to the absurd. Perhaps he could conjure up some urgent reason where they would need to hurry to the site of some emergency, only for whatever reason Jin Guangyao would be too weak to fly on his own sword, leading to Lan Qiren offering to allow him to fly with him on his. The older man would be very officious about it, considerate of Jin Guangyao’s dignity and not wanting to offend, but at the same time stern and inexorable, pointing to the extremity of their current circumstances and insisting that they had no other choice but to go together. Jin Guangyao would find a way to gracefully yield, and then they would fly side-by-side on Lan Qiren’s sword, Lan Qiren’s arms wrapped around Jin Guangyao for the sake of balance the entire way there…of course it would be equally good turned the other way around. If Lan Qiren’s illness took a sudden turn, for instance, or if he felt unusually dizzy, Jin Guangyao could be the one insisting that they fly together, able to pretend that it was a demand purely driven by his concern for his elders.

In yet another daydream, he could pay some shameless person to make a rude fuss during a banquet, demanding that Lan Qiren drink a toast – Lan Xichen had told Jin Guangyao about their family’s notoriously poor tolerance for alcohol, and Jin Guangyao hadn’t been able to help but pry a little, discovering, to his glee, that Lan Qiren apparently became exceptionally enthusiastic when drunk, not hesitating to pin people down in order to insist that they listen to his lectures. Jin Guangyao wouldn’t mind being pinned down in the slightest, and he was sure he could lead Lan Qiren into giving him a few hugs in the process – if he felt especially daring, and they were alone, he might try to see if he could convince Lan Qiren to try to pull him into sitting in his lap. How delightful that would be! Lan Qiren’s arms pressed against his sides, his chin on Jin Guangyao’s shoulder, his breath in his ear as he explained some rule or another…

Or perhaps he could convince Lan Qiren to go to the high mountains with him on a night-hunt, just the two of them on their own again, and if he timed it right perhaps he could contrive for them to end up there during a blizzard. Lan Qiren was too powerful a cultivator to be overly bothered by the cold, of course, but his health was still poor and there was also Jin Guangyao’s own low cultivation to be thought of – it wouldn’t be too hard to look pathetic and bedraggled enough to render plausible a suggestion that they huddle together closely for warmth. If the blizzard were bad enough, Jin Guangyao might even try to claim that his sword flying skills were insufficient to rise to the challenge; instead, he would suggest that they take shelter at some nearby home or cave. And then, naturally – as it went in all the stories – it would be necessary to pile their beddings together and strip down to their inner layers and cover themselves together in order to preserve heat, pressing up close and tight together to not let escape even the smallest hint of bodily warmth –

Jin Guangyao noticed that his cheeks had gone hot and quickly hastened over to a pool to splash some water on them. He could not be seen to be blushing in public. Who knew what people would say?

Of course, putting all those other scenarios aside, there was always the most absurd scenario of all, which was that Jin Guangyao could simply invite Lan Qiren out for a nighttime walk to enjoy the sights of Jinlin Tower and admire the moon together. Having seen Lan Xichen under similar circumstances before, Jin Guangyao had no doubt that the sight of Lan Qiren by the light of the moon would be little short of spectacular, the darkness of his hair a sharp contrast to the whiteness of his robes, the contrast of light and shadow drawing attention to the grace of his bearing and the steadiness of his posture, the beauty of his face…before such a sight, it was clear that Jin Guangyao, who was only in the end a mere mortal man, fallible and prone to temptation, would be completely unable to resist throwing himself at Lan Qiren in search of a hug and perhaps even, if he dared even dream about it, a kiss.

Utterly absurd. Completely impracticable.

A pity.

“Ah, Guangyao, there you are.”

Jin Guangyao shook himself out of his reverie and turned with a smile to regard the object of his thoughts, striding forward to come to his side. “Teacher Lan, you’re already done?”

“It’s been over a shichen,” Lan Qiren pointed out, which Jin Guangyao had somehow not noticed but which indeed seemed to be the case. “It was a very productive conversation. You have my thanks for arranging it.”

“Think nothing of it, it was nothing.”

“It was not nothing. Do not think I did not see the effort you put in to managing the concerns of both sides – not least of which my own sect’s frustrating tendency to keep a watch over me as if I were a newborn bird trying to climb out of the nest. It could not have been easy, and I appreciate your commitment to seeing this through.”

Jin Guangyao bowed his head to try to hide his smile. It was nice to be appreciated, and for exactly what had been difficult, too – none of this false flattering that so many of the Jin sect’s sycophants excelled in. Lan Qiren knew the meaning of hard work, knew exactly what the problems were, and he had trusted Jin Guangyao to overcome them, then thanked him when he had. That was how it ought to be.

“Would it be too forward of me to ask how it went?” Jin Guangyao asked, continuing to walk as Lan Qiren fell into step beside him, the two of them travelling through the beautiful gardens of Jinlin Tower surrounded by the most beautiful flowers in the world – though none as beautiful, in Jin Guangyao’s opinion, as the one beside him. “With Su Minshan, I mean.”

“You have a good friend in him,” Lan Qiren said, and Jin Guangyao felt a sudden spark of joy in his heart that he didn’t know what to do with, or even entirely from when it came. “Sect Leader Su spoke very highly of you, vociferous in your defense despite the lack of any critique– he will be loyal and true to you in the future. Such friends are rare, and you should value them.”

“I do,” Jin Guangyao said, and for once he meant the primary meaning of his agreement just as much as the secondary innuendo. He wasn’t sure why he liked Su She so much, or why he was so insistent on keeping him around – the man would undoubtedly be useful, yes, but Jin Guangyao had any number of useful people already and Su She was already immensely loyal to him; there really wasn’t any need for him to go to such lengths to cultivate their relationship any further than he already had. And yet, he persisted, and all for the sake of a man so desperate for respect that he could be bought for life at the price of remembering a name…

Jin Guangyao just liked him, that was all. How bizarre.

“I understand better the nature of his concerns regarding my sect,” Lan Qiren continued, frowning a little. “That part is private, so I cannot share it, but I feel better knowing what I do now…I have some concerns, though.”

“About Su Minshan?”

“Not about him, no, but rather for him. Did you know that Jin Zixun has been putting pressure upon him in secret, asking for all sorts of concessions, demanding things or services from his sect?”

Jin Guangyao had not.

“Sect Leader Su has only the cultivation techniques he learned in our sect to use and little enough time to turn them into something of his own; he had certain private reasons for forming another sect so quickly, and thus had no choice but to use his understanding of our style as the basis. I have promised to provide him with texts and support in terms of breaking away from what is currently a mimicry, but until he is able to form his own path, there will inevitably be those that take insult with what he is doing.”

Jin Guangyao nodded. It made sense, and matched up with what he knew of Su She – only he also knew how prideful and spiteful Su She could be. The more the Lan sect protested and got angry about his ‘mimicking’ of their style, the more he would pointedly make his sect just like them but one step off, a mimicry itself of his own feelings of inadequacy amidst constant comparisons to Lan Wangji; it was a terrible reaction, utterly self-sabotaging, but Su She wouldn’t be able to resist his worst impulses. If Lan Qiren could help him break free of that stubborn bull-headed blindness and decide to truly follow his own path, there were any number of things he could focus on that would belong to his sect and his sect alone. Jin Guangyao even had some ideas on that front; he would have to share them later…

“However, as a result of that present strife with my sect, he has no choice but to be the subsidiary sect to a Great Sect as a defense. Yet there are few enough Great Sects that would be willing to risk the anger of Gusu Lan – the Qinghe Nie are our traditional allies, and Yunmeng Jiang is too weak to make any reckless moves; he is stuck with Lanling Jin. It appears that they have been taking advantage of that reliance to extort more and more from him, pushing him to the edge…it is a dangerous position to put any man in, but most especially one who has nothing else left to him. The only thing Sect Leader Su values in this life is his sect, and Jin Zixun’s extravagant demands put him at risk of losing that – I fear what he might do if this state of affairs continues for too long.”

Jin Guangyao was frowning now, too. He hadn’t realized it was so bad. Su She, as he already knew, was inclined to be prideful and spiteful, but he genuinely loved the little sect he’d established. If that were seriously threatened…yes, he might be pushed too far. And of course he wouldn’t have mentioned anything to Jin Guangyao, knowing that it was Jin Guangyao’s own family pursuing the harassment…

“What is that noise?” Lan Qiren suddenly asked, distracted, and Jin Guangyao raised up his head – there was some sort of furor going on outside the front doors of Jinlin Tower.

It turned out that there was, in the end, a need for an urgent flight, only of course Lan Qiren and Jin Guangyao both took their separate swords for the long trek from Lanling City to the Yiling Burial Mounds. It appeared that Nie Mingjue and Lan Wangji, tired of the cultivation world’s waffling on their demand for an investigation, had gone along with Jiang Cheng to deal with the matter in person, and now they were up in arms, claiming that Lanling Jin had been committing atrocities upon civilians entrusted into their care, crimes of the sort that were unacceptable no matter what surname those people bore, and demanding that Jin Guangshan come on behalf of his sect to Yiling to answer questions. It was a tremendous scandal. Naturally everyone had to go to Yiling right away – Lan Qiren because of his nephew’s participation in the event, Jin Guangyao because his father thought he might be useful, and everyone else because they were a bunch of nosy busybodies who couldn’t mind their own business and wanted to come gawk.

In fairness to them, there was – rather a lot to gawk at.

Jin Guangyao was immediately dispatched to deal with the crowd of onlookers, or at least to corral them into something resembling order, so he was rather late to the actual main event, where the heads of all four sects were standing together at the base of the Burial Mounds arguing with each other, each one accompanied by the key members of their family. Lan Xichen was there, with Lan Wangji and Lan Qiren beside him; there was Nie Mingjue, with Nie Huaisang lurking in his shadow; there was Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian, standing shoulder-to-shoulder; and last of all there was Jin Guangshan, arrayed in clothing worth three times all the rest of them put together and yet somehow – less impressive. Jin Zixuan, standing silently beside him, was far more impressive in comparison.

Jin Zixun was there as well, cringing and scowling sullenly, but there was no point in counting him.

Jin Guangyao tried to slip in quietly while all the yelling was going on, hoping to get an idea of what was happening before having to participate, but he had only just barely sidled into the spot to Jin Zixuan’s left when Nie Mingjue just came out and shouted, “Yes, I am sleeping with them. So what? Does that make anything I just said wrong?”

Jin Guangyao blinked.

Nie Mingjue was – what? With who?

He’d clearly missed something very critical.

“Sect Leader Nie and Hanguang-jun are apparently both sleeping with Wei Wuxian, and also each other,” Jin Zixuan told him in an undertone, clearly seeing the confusion on his face and taking pity. “You didn’t know?”

“He certainly never mentioned it to me,” Jin Guangyao confirmed, his mind racing. How had that happened? When had that happened? Nie Mingjue was so obvious, with his painfully straightforward personality; it was impossible that he could hide something like that for any length of time, so it must have happened relatively recently –

Oh no.

Jin Guangyao suddenly recalled the banquet at the end of the Phoenix Mountain hunt, the one in which he’d noticed that both Wei Wuxian and Nie Mingjue were acting unusually – no, before that, during the hunt itself. He’d told Nie Mingjue about the problem with the hunt, and Nie Mingjue had agreed to go pass along the message to Wei Wuxian, relying on his authority as sect leader to actually make it stick. They’d then both disappeared for a time, a time when Lan Wangji, also supposedly attending the hunt, had been equally missing, and then they’d all reappeared, only Wei Wuxian had looked bright and lively (the result of dual cultivation with two powerful cultivators, perhaps? Or simply of romantic success?) while Nie Mingjue had spent his evening talking to Lan Wangji…

Yes, that was undoubtedly when it had happened. And right under his nose, too!

“They’re saying that the work camps we set up for the Wen were actually places of torture,” Jin Zixuan continued, looking worried, probably because he knew his father might very well do something like that. “That they were being abused – worked to death – living bodies used as bait in night-hunts – pierced through to create spirit-summoning flags – all sorts of foul experiments, extremely unorthodox –”

Jin Guangshan was very loudly denying it.

“There is proof,” Lan Wangji said with a stony expression. “The Wen remnants can testify as to their experiences – and there is always Inquiry to find out the truth from those that did not make it.”

Jin Guangyao did his best not to twitch. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe his father was capable of all the things Jin Zixuan had mentioned – he most certainly did – but he should at least hope that his father’s men were smart enough to immediately liberate any resentful ghosts lingering behind after a murder. Were they cultivators or not?!

And yet, judging by the expression on Jin Guangyao’s father’s face, it was quite possible that they hadn’t, or else that he had reason to believe that they would be so incompetent so as to fail to manage it.

Not good.

In the end, it was still his father, and still his sect. Jin Guangyao should say something, or do something…

“That’s not all,” a thin, reedy voice said. It was a young man standing a little behind Wei Wuxian, pale-faced and sallow – no, once he stepped out more fully into the light, it became immediately obvious that his skin was not sallow, but grey, and interrupted with blackened veins.

The young man was dead.

He was clearly a fierce corpse, but his expression was calm and his behavior sedate. He was conscious.

“Who are you?” Jin Guangshan demanded. “Someone surnamed Wen, I assume?”

“That’s right,” Wei Wuxian said, clearly the one responsible for this ridiculous, impossible outcome. “He’s one of the Wen who were murdered by your men. And while he was dying, he heard a lot more than just that! Tell them, Wen Ning.”

“Wen Qionglin,” someone muttered under their breath. Possibly it was Lan Wangji, or maybe Nie Mingjue – or someone else entirely, who knew?

Jin Guangyao watched in helpless fascination as the fierce corpse coughed as if clearing his throat, then gave testimony. “According to one of the ones that helped kill me, it’s not just Wen that are being killed,” he (it?) said, voice clear and ringing. “It’s other sects, too.”

That was when the entire world around him erupted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” someone demanded. “Who else? Who else?!”

“The Jin sect has been trying to figure out how Wei-gongzi’s cultivation works,” Wen Ning said. “They’ve been conducting experiments on demonic cultivation –” Even more yelling. “ – and deliberately spreading rumors designed to discredit Wen-gongzi and seize the Yin Tiger Seal…”

Everything was chaos around them.

Jin Guangyao’s mind was working faster than fast. This was not good, especially because it was almost certainly true – the expression on his father’s face when Xue Yang had made his suggestion came immediately to mind – but there were still things they could do to protect themselves.

Wen Ning might be a credible witness on account of being, well, dead, and as cultivators they were all biased in favor of the testimony of the dead – when asked via more orthodox methods like Inquiry or Empathy, the dead could not lie – but no one knew whether that was true for whatever bizarre technique Wei Wuxian had used on him. Moreover, he was a Wen, which made him fundamentally untrustworthy in the eyes of most of the cultivation world. Once they’d discredited him enough to raise some questions, the smaller sects’ sense of self-preservation (and, indeed, gratitude for the largess the Jin sect had been throwing around everywhere to help rebuild) would kick in, giving their sect some time to come up with a solution. Perhaps they could propose to investigate internally, then find and admit some minimal level of wrongdoing, with promises of sanctioning someone or another –

“The person who was speaking said that the orders came all the way from the top,” Wen Ning continued, inexorable. “The others called him – ‘Jin-gongzi’.”

That idiot, Jin Guangyao thought, suddenly furious. Of course it would be Jin Zixun!

“That explains it, then,” Jin Guangshan said smoothly. “Naturally none of us would ever agree to commit such atrocities, but there are always those that would take advantage of our name to discredit me and my sect…Guangyao, I’m disappointed in you.”

Jin Guangyao froze.

“I have accepted you and recognized you, and this is how you treat us in return?” his father said, hanging him out to dry without a moment of remorse. “I know you have of late expressed interest in looking for others who know demonic cultivation, and even brought back to our sect a young man with dubious interests – but I never thought you would go this far!”

So that was why you let me be involved, Jin Guangyao thought. His chest felt funny, as if he couldn’t breathe, and for some reason his hearing wasn’t functioning properly, turning off and on – he could hear his father’s voice with painful clarity, but everything else seemed muted and distant, as if coming through a distance. You had this in mind all along.

It wasn’t that Jin Guangyao didn’t understand. He was, after all, his father’s son; his cunning mind, filled with plots, wasn’t just an inheritance from his mother, and his ruthlessness was his rightful patrimony as well as all the rest. It made sense, even: he was in fact tainted with everything he’d done, whether it was serving at Wen Ruohan’s side or with finding and fetching Xue Yang. Even those acts which he hadn’t done, it was plausible enough to believe that he, the war hero whose fame came from the wretched business of spying, betrayal, and torture, had been involved, and there was no evidence that everything that was done had been done on his father’s orders, not his. It was easy enough for his father to splash him with dirty water, making it Jin Guangyao’s word against his, and in that battle, a whore’s son against a noble sect leader, Jin Guangyao would always lose.

It made sense.

It was just –

He just –

He’d tried so hard. He’d done everything, given everything, and in the end, the only thing that awaited him was this – whether now or later, whether he tried or didn’t, his father had always been planning to throw him away as if he were so much trash. He was never going to escape the fate of being Meng Yao, the bastard son of a whore. It didn’t matter how much gold he plastered on his back or whatever name he took on, no one was ever going to think anything differently about him –

“Ridiculous.”

Jin Guangyao blinked. That voice had cut through both the loud noise of the crowd around them and his own dismayed shock, clear as a bell and sharp as a sword – it was Lan Qiren, standing straight as a tree, unbowed by anything. He’d stepped forward, in front of his nephews, even, and he was glaring at Jin Guangshan so hard that his cheeks had gone red.

“You cannot possibly expect us to believe that a junior that has only entered your sect a few months ago could so quickly gather up enough power to do the sorts of things that have been described here,” Lan Qiren said coldly, and the entire audience fell quiet before him – a good half of them were his former students and used to listening to him, and the other half the parents of his students, equally used to sitting down and listening to what he had to say to them about his students. “Even if he did, the fault is in the end your own. You are the sect leader!”

“Of a large sect!” Jin Guangshan protested. “I cannot be expected to manage it all –”

“You are expected to delegate your authority to trusted subordinates!” Lan Qiren thundered. “If they betray your trust, it is your fault for having chosen wrongly! The sect follows its head. Whoever led this effort must have had your token and your trust, your backing to be known, or else they would not, or should not, have been able to convince your guards to obey them. That is the basic principle of organization for any large sect. Know this, Jin Guangshan – I do not believe for a single moment that it could have been only a single subordinate behind so extensive an endeavor as this, much less that it was wholly cooked up and executed without your knowledge by the son that the entire world knows you disdain!”

Jin Guangyao’s father bristled. “What are you saying?” His voice was dangerous, and Jin Guangyao tensed instinctively, suddenly frightened on Lan Qiren’s behalf, and perhaps also his own; he already knew too well that that tone boded no one any good. “Think carefully before you speak further. What are you trying to say, Lan Qiren?”

For his part, Lan Qiren was not at all moved by the implicit threat. “I am saying that regardless of who it was that did concoct this vile scheme, the ultimate fault is yours. The blame is yours. I am saying that you are evidently no longer fit to be sect leader of Lanling Jin.”

Jin Guangyao’s jaw dropped.

He wasn’t alone, not by a long shot, but he didn’t have any attention to pay to the rest of them.

“How dare you!” Jin Guangyao’s father roared. “This is the internal matter of my sect, not yours. Who made you the judge of our sect’s business!”

“Your sect has made your sect’s business the business of the entire cultivation world, of all righteous men, when they committed crimes under your banner and in your name,” Lan Qiren shot back. “It does not matter if you knew of the crimes and now pretend not to, or if you did not know of them in truth – that such heinous acts as are being testified to here have occurred under your watch is sufficient to show that you have lost either morality or control, and in either case are unfit for your office.”

Jin Guangyao’s father looked fit to murder someone. He might very well try.

He’d definitely try to come back at Lan Qiren, that much was for sure – how many of the small sects around them had received his money? How many of his people were here, backing him? How could Lan Qiren, with nothing but words, overcome that?

Jin Guangyao’s heart was in his throat.

Lan Qiren turned his head and looked around the group, the audience all watching him raptly, and then returned his gaze to Jin Guangshan. “Look around us,” he said, gesturing sharply. “Jin Guangshan, in our Great Sects, the rest of our generation is gone! I have stepped down, Lao Nie has been dead for more than ten years, Jiang Fengmian was killed unjustly, Wen Ruohan executed for his crimes…it’s time. Don’t you see? It’s time for the next generation to step up and take over, to lead the world into a new era – it is time for our sects to learn from their smaller peers the harsh lesson they learned first, so as to not to allow what happened to ever happen again. The war is over. My nephews, your sons…they are all men full-grown, ready to lead their own lives on their own terms. Let them start clean.”

Jin Guangyao hadn’t expected that.

Neither had his father, that much was obvious. Lan Qiren had hit him in the one place he had never expected, discovered a weakness that neither Jin Guangshan nor Jin Guangyao had even realized was there – the Jin sect had spent all that money to buy the support of the smaller sects, but what was a little bit of money in the face of power and influence? If the leaders of the Great Sects were all young men, and the smaller sects led by those who could claim to be their elders, then wouldn’t that mean that those smaller sect leaders finally had a chance to be acknowledged as the Great Sects’ equals in their own rights, as they had always wanted?

Between that and tacitly conceding to submit to Jin Guangshan as sole rule of the cultivation world, it was really no surprise which one they would lean towards.

Sure enough, there were murmurs all around. Murmurs of agreement – Lan Qiren’s words were swaying the audience in his favor, and why wouldn’t they? He was icily logical, painfully practical, ruthlessly reasonable, and no one could claim that he had not practiced what he preached, for he had once had all the power of a Great Sect in his hands and he had handed it over to his nephews without complaint in precisely the way he now advised Jin Guangshan to do.

He was right.

He was glorious.

Jin Guangyao’s father’s eyes darted around the crowd, seeing that agreement, those nods – there were even those in his own sect colors that were nodding along thoughtfully. Lanling Jin had always been a pit of snakes, everyone ready to backstab each other, and Jin Guangyao’s father had made many enemies over the years, each one ready to see him fall; even his allies were looking thoughtfully at Jin Zixuan, wondering if he would be a better standard-bearer for their sect’s glory. After all, who didn’t know that Jin Guangshan had dragged his feet in joining the Sunshot Campaign, only acting when he was forced to? Who didn’t know that he’d deliberately withheld his soldiers and kept his disciples as far back from the front lines as he could, whenever he could – who didn’t know that he’d called on the other sects for help, time and time again?

The Jin sect’s only true claim to martial valor came from Jin Zixuan’s relatively minor achievements, more earned as a lieutenant under Nie Mingjue rather than in his own name, or from…well, from Jin Guangyao, the very man Jin Guangshan was now defaming for his own purposes.

Whose reputation Lan Qiren had somehow managed to save, just when he’d thought it was impossible.

Jin Guangyao’s chest was feeling funny again. It was a different sort of thing than before, not shock or horror, not betrayal or disconnect, but instead a sense of almost – fullness.

“What you ask is impossible,” Jin Guangshan declared. “Our sects are not the same, and should not be seen as such. Perhaps your nephew was ready to lead, but my son still needs my guidance.”

“Really?” Nie Mingjue said coldly, the one person present who Jin Guangshan could not subtly imply was unready to be a leader. “He led your armies just fine without you.”

Jin Guangshan glared at him.

“No one is doubting your ability to provide your son with guidance and wisdom, Sect Leader Jin,” Jiang Cheng said, in a caustic tone that suggested that he personally doubted it quite a great deal. He was stepping on Wei Wuxian’s foot as he spoke, with Wei Wuxian having that lips-fixed-together expression that suggested that a Lan had silenced him with their sect’s silencing spell. Probably Lan Wangji, good man. “You would of no doubt be a valued sect elder, as I would have wished my father be to me if he had lived.”

A valued sect elder was not a sect leader, and the Jin sect didn’t really value its elders, anyway, even if Jin Zixuan might do so out of genuine filial piety. A retirement like this would mean the stripping away of all Jin Guangshan’s power and he knew it, and he was very clearly unwilling – yet in his very unwillingness, all those leaders of the cultivation world around him saw evidence of his guilt, since surely (here they lied to themselves) the only reason he might be so committed to staying in a position of political power would be to cover up misconduct.

It was exactly the same situation as he had put Jin Guangyao in earlier, where any attempt to defend himself would be seen as the very evidence of his guilt; it was that very same dirty water he’d tried to splash onto Jin Guangyao being turned back upon him. Jin Guangshan couldn’t say that Jin Zixuan couldn’t handle the sect, not without insulting his own bloodline in comparison to the others – Jiang Cheng had revitalized his Great Sect all by himself, at several years younger, and Nie Mingjue had been all of fifteen when he’d become leader – but admitting that Jin Zixuan could do the work would be tantamount to conceding that he was clinging to power for its own sake.

For what would he do that, the whispers would ask, if not to cover up what had been done here…?

But Jin Guangshan was not done just yet.

“My son is of course talented and capable,” he said smoothly. “But my sect is large and powerful, with a far greater diversity than your own; we have our own unique problems. If he only faced threats from without, I would naturally have no hesitation in leaving my sect in his hands, but there are other types of threats that one must face…threats that come from within.”

Jin Guangyao’s back went cold. His father couldn’t be saying –

“I have my own reasons to be concerned about my son’s future,” Jin Guangshan said, looking once again sorrowful, the expression clearly pasted on to Jin Guangyao’s eyes but potentially convincing to others’. “He is only just now getting married – his engagement just barely settled – and he is too trusting to those who do not have his best interests at heart…those who have their own interests at heart. It is my duty and my joy as his father to stand bulwark to protect him for as long as I can.”

He was.

Jin Guangshan might be a drunk and a lecher, but he was skilled with words and implication. He was oh-so-carefully drawing attention back to his earlier accusations against Jin Guangyao, just when Jin Guangyao had thought he might be free of them; he was suggesting that Jin Guangyao, who everyone knew had forced his way into the Jin sect, was eyeing his brother’s inheritance, looking to claim the seat of sect leader as his own. He was saying that everything Jin Guangyao had done, everything he would do, ought to be looked at as the actions of a would-be fratricide.

And worst of all, of course, was that they weren’t entirely wrong. It wasn’t that Jin Guangyao hadn’t had thoughts, of course he had thoughts; he was an ambitious man, like his father before him. He wanted more than what he had. He had yearned for the position of power that was above him because he wanted that glory, he wanted that respect, he wanted that acceptance.

He wanted to be the one standing at the top of the stairs, not the bottom.

But…he was never going to be, was he?

His father was thoroughly poisoning the well for him. It didn’t matter what happened next – even if Jin Zixuan voluntarily stepped back and gave him the position, even if everyone ahead of him died through causes that could be proven to be completely unrelated to him, everyone would forever look at him with suspicion, suspicion and disdain. Did you know even his father thought he was capable of that sort of thing, they would whisper to each other. Even his very own father! So why wouldn’t he do it? You know where he’s from, you know the sort of things those people are capable of when it comes to getting what they want. Who’s to say he wasn’t involved in some way…?

No one would ever respect him. Even if they said nice words to his face, behind closed doors…

The Jin sect would never accept him, not in this life.

No matter what he did. No matter how hard he tried. Nothing he did would make one iota of difference.

“Are you actually saying that the only reason you won’t step down as sect leader is because you’re afraid that Guangyao will try to take the position of sect leader?” Lan Qiren asked, his voice clearly breaking through again, stating bluntly what Jin Guangshan had only been implying through hints and innuendo.

Jin Guangyao winced: now that it had been stated aloud, there was no going back on it.

Lan Qiren didn’t seem to notice, though. On the contrary, he seemed incredulous.

“If that is really your only problem, let me solve it for you now,” he added. “Marry him out to me.”

Complete silence.

What? Jin Guangyao thought.

“What?” Jin Guangshan said.

“I’ll marry him,” Lan Qiren repeated, seeming almost offended that his suggestion was not being understood, as if he thought it made perfect sense and no one ought to question it. “If he marries into the Lan sect, that creates yet another tie between our Great Sects, showing that the Jin sect is still highly regarded in the cultivation world and increasing its influence; when paired with a similar marriage between your son and Mistress Jiang on one hand, and one between Sect Leader Nie, Wei Wuxian, and Wangji on the other, it will ensure that we are all so closely bound that there can be no fear of war in the future. Moreover, it eliminates your problem: once he has married out, Guangyao will be ineligible for the position of sect leader. Does that not solve everything?”

Jin Guangshan said something, maybe. Jin Guangyao had no idea what.

He was too busy staring at Lan Qiren, who had turned to look at him.

“Guangyao,” he said, his stiff and toneless voice gentling just a little, just enough for those that knew him to recognize it. “What do you say? Do you consent to marrying me? Say you will, and I will call for a matchmaker at once.”

Marry – Lan Qiren?

Lan Qiren was…proposing marriage? He wanted to marry Jin Guangyao? He was – he was declaring his intent to do just that, publicly and in front of the entire cultivation world. To marry him. Him, Jin Guangyao, the schemer, the bastard, the whore’s son…Lan Qiren, in all his dignity, all his righteousness, his pure reputation, his respect, his love – his loyalty, for who did not know that the Lan sect only loved once, only married once, once and never again for their whole lives – all that, all that, and he was offering it to Jin Guangyao at the very moment his father had thrown him into the dirt all over again.

“Yes,” Jin Guangyao croaked. He didn’t care that it was inauspicious for a man to choose his own marriage, defying his father’s choice in the matter. He didn’t even know what was going on. He couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t see anything – there was nothing in his world but Lan Qiren, looking straight at him and starting to smile. His stern eyes softening and curving, his lips pulling back with pleasure…he was beautiful.

He was – somehow, improbably, impossibly – Jin Guangyao’s.

“I’ll see it done,” Jin Zixuan suddenly said from beside him, his hand clapping onto Jin Guangyao’s shoulder. “I promise, brother. For once, leave it all to me. You’ll get your marriage.”

He gently pushed Jin Guangyao forward, towards Lan Qiren, who took a few steps towards him, steps that Jin Guangyao matched on shaky legs, still disbelieving. How had this happened? How had he done this? How had he, without even realizing it, manipulated Lan Qiren to such an extent that he would make him an offer of marriage…?

“Guangyao,” Lan Qiren said, and he was suddenly closer than Jin Guangyao had realized, having taken the final few steps to bring them together. “This is not how I would have imagined this happening, nor, I imagine, is it what you would have thought for your own future. I am sorry that your father could not have done better by you…but however it happened, however it has come about, I am very happy that we can now speak plainly of what has thus far gone unspoken between us. I hope you are happy as well.”

“Yes,” Jin Guangyao said again. He felt drunk. He felt dizzy. He felt – yes, happy was the word, but it was a word wholly insufficient for everything he was feeling right now, that all-encompassing joy and victory. He didn’t give one damn about the whole of Lanling Jin right now, not if he could feel like this…and he would. He would feel like this for the rest of his life, because Lan Qiren was going to be his husband. “Yes. I am – very happy.”

“Good,” Lan Qiren said, and pulled him into a hug.

Chapter Text

“…what?” Lan Xichen said.

-

“Congratulations,” Nie Mingjue said. “Well done.”

Jin Guangyao could feel his back stiffening. “What for?” he asked, his tone as sweet as it ever got. “Finally finding someone to control me and redirect my worst tendencies?”

“Well, I meant for finally being the one to bag the hot teacher that everyone who’s ever studied at the Cloud Recesses has had at least one impure thought about,” Nie Mingjue shrugged, “but however you prefer it.”

Jin Guangyao thought about it for a moment, slightly perturbed to discover that under all of Nie Mingjue’s righteousness they happened to share a remarkably similar set of interests, and then shrugged himself and let it go, allowing himself to relax a little.

“He is – very attractive,” he conceded, and smirked a little. Attractive, and all his.

“I will say, though, on the other thing…”

Jin Guangyao was giving Nie Mingjue one chance, and one chance alone. “Yes?”

Nie Mingjue put his hand on his shoulder and looked him seriously, right in the eyes. “I know you’re a habitual overachiever, A-Yao, but you know that when I said ‘get yourself some morality’, I didn’t mean that you had to go this far, right?”

Exasperated, Jin Guangyao kicked him in the shin.

(Still, as Nie Mingjue started laughing, he thought to himself: All right. You can stay.)

-

“Ah,” Lan Xichen said.

-

“Shufu,” Lan Wangji said. He looked as stone faced as always – Jin Guangyao had always had the hardest time pinning him down on anything, he was nearly as bad as the inexplicable Nie Mingjue.

“Wangji,” Lan Qiren, standing by Jin Guangyao’s side, replied, inclining his head.

They proceeded to stand there in silence for what felt, to Jin Guangyao, like a small eternity.

“I trust you are happy,” Lan Wangji finally said. He sounded as solemn as a funeral.

Jin Guangyao bristled instinctively, but then realized there was nothing in the statement was objectionable.

“And I you,” Lan Qiren said. His voice sounded – a little dry?

Lan Wangji blinked, then lowered his head as if accepting the point.

Jin Guangyao looked from one to the other, then frowned – were they arguing?

“Nie Mingjue and Wei Wuxian are both excellent young men,” Lan Qiren continued, voice still exceptionally dry, and Lan Wangji…wait, had his ears gone red? “I look forward to you bringing them to meet me.”

“…shufu already knows Chifeng-zun. And – Wei Ying.”

“Not as my nephew’s future husbands,” Lan Qiren said, then paused. “You are planning on marrying, correct? I hope I did not overly presume…?”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said. His ears were definitely red now.

“In fact, remind me again, Wangji, how was it that you three got together? I recall hearing that Nie Mingjue came across you and Wei Wuxian during the Phoenix Mountain hunt, but there was something about a blindfold I wasn’t quite sure I understood –”

“We are straying from the subject of discussion,” Lan Wangji said, the cadence of his speech a little more rushed than usual. “I merely wished to wish Shufu a long and fruitful marriage.”

Lan Wangji’s paces as he retreated might be graceful, but it was still quite obviously fleeing.

“…fruitful?” Jin Guangyao asked, choking back laughter.

Lan Qiren pinched his brow. “Let us take the well-wishing in the spirit it was meant.”

“Oh? You mean, as a distraction from more embarrassing subjects?”

(Or possibly as a revelation thereof – Jin Guanyao idly wondered if it was a thing for Lan Wangji in the same manner that his surpassing fondness for Lan Qiren had started as a thing for him. Moreover, if it really was that, which of his two partners did he exercise it with…?)

“…just so.” Lan Qiren had a pained look suggesting that his thoughts were going down a similar path, and that he wanted them to stop doing so right away. “Just so.”

-

“I see,” Lan Xichen said.

-

“I’m so happy for you,” Jin Zixuan said. He was beaming. “You found the person who makes you happy. It’s just like A-Li and me! Love is really in the air, isn’t it?”

Jin Guangyao had no idea how they were related.

“You know, Teacher Lan, until I saw Jin Guangyao’s face when you proposed, I had no idea that you had formed such a close relationship?” Jin Zixuan continued, turning to Lan Qiren with a smile. “Do you mind if I ask – when did you first think of marriage…?”

Good question. Jin Guangyao wanted to know that, too.

“I should hope that you are well aware that neither myself nor Guangyao would reach any sort of secret agreement behind your father’s back, particularly on a matter that carries both personal and political implications,” Lan Qiren said, a touch censoriously, and Jin Zixuan flushed. “However, I will admit that as we grew closer, we formed a certain – understanding, let us say.”

They…had?

“Of course, there was a fair bit of pretense, as with all such things – each of us making excuses to see each other, to be closer to one another, all while having a plausible excuse. You understand.”

Wait.

What?

“Oh, yes,” Jin Zixuan said, nodding wisely. “I understand entirely…if you’ll excuse me, I need to go see A-Li about something –”

“I do hope you don’t mind me mentioning it to him,” Lan Qiren said, leaning down to murmur in Jin Guangyao’s ear. “Your brother is rather evidently hopeless in matters of romance – by all accounts, he didn’t even realize that he was developing affections towards Mistress Jiang, and neither did he know how to properly express them, even once he belatedly realized that they were reciprocated. He clearly requires a bit of guidance…quite unlike you, I should think.”

Actually, Jin Guangyao was starting to get the feeling that he and Jin Zixuan were more alike than he’d ever before realized.

-

“No, actually, I don’t think I see,” Lan Xichen said.

-

Wei Wuxian hadn’t stopped laughing for nearly a half-shichen. He was starting to have hiccups.

Eventually, Jin Guangyao couldn’t resist going over to him. “Why, Wei-gongzi,” he said flatly. “Whatever is so funny?”

If he dared say one word about Jin Guangyao’s background, Jin Guangyao would find a way to kill him, demonic cultivation or no. Anything else, he could accept, but not that.

“Teacher Lan,” Wei Wuxian giggled. “Teacher Lan! With a love life! And not just any love life – he shacked up with a twink!”

Jin Guangyao managed to keep his polite smile intact, but only just barely.

“I mean, he’s just…he’s such a Lan, isn’t he? Just – what do you do with him? Listen to him recite rules?”

Jin Guangyao was going to kill him. He’d said that he could accept everything else, but he’d been wrong – he was going to find a way to frame Wei Wuxian for some horrible misdeed and have him brutally murdered.

“Lan Zhan recites rules sometimes, too,” Wei Wuxian said. He looked dreamy-eyed. “In bed. After tying me up with his forehead ribbon. It’s great.”

…fine, maybe he’d let Wei Wuxian live a little longer.

Just for that mental image (individuals swapped out as appropriate, of course). And for the fact that he was, somehow, improbably as it might seem, not actually trying to be offensive…but mostly for the mental image.

“Hey, maybe we should form a club,” Wei Wuxian mused. “Wouldn’t that be great? We could call ourselves the Lanfuckers…”

Jin Guangyao was leaving, that’s what he was doing.

“I’ll make you a great engagement present!” Wei Wuxian shouted after him. “Put in a good word for me!”

-

“…is it because of something I’ve done?” Lan Xichen asked.

-

“I’m sorry,” Jiang Cheng was saying to someone as Jin Guangyao walked by. “Getting married? With who? …no, I heard you the first time, I just have no idea who that is.”

A pause.

“I know who Teacher Lan is, I mean – that is – ugh, why are you wasting my time with pointless gossip?! About the Jin sect, of all places; you think I care about those idiots? Go run three extra laps! Each!”

-

“Not that I’m making it about me, of course,” Lan Xichen said.

-

“I’m never speaking to you again,” Nie Huaisang informed Jin Guangyao.

Jin Guangyao paused, taken aback – and a little hurt, if he had to admit it. Even Nie Mingjue had taken the news well. Why would Nie Huaisang, who liked romance and sentimentality nearly as much as it turned out Jin Zixuan did, be the one to turn away from him?

“Not because of you, of course,” Nie Huaisang helpfully clarified, and something in Jin Guangyao’s heart released. “It’s just, you see, if I talk to you, I’m going to get a bad grade in talking to you, and I can’t afford any more bad grades.”

…was that the problem?

“Huaisang,” Jin Guangyao said, trying (barely) to hide his smile. “Teacher Lan isn’t going to give you a bad grade in talking. He’s no longer your teacher; he isn’t going to give you any more grades at all.”

“Uh-huh,” Nie Huaisang said with a jaundiced expression. “Wanna bet?”

-

“It’s just…a bit of a surprise, that’s all.”

-

Jin Guangyao listened to his father’s cursing for a good long while without any change of expression. It was surprisingly easy to keep a calm expression, even when his father suggested that Jin Guangyao took after his mother, a promiscuous vixen that wouldn’t hesitate to seduce someone more powerful for his own benefit – although possibly it was because the idea was quite so ridiculous.

Lan Qiren might have been seduced by something, but it certainly wasn’t by sexual wiles.

He waited until his father ran out of breath.

“I’m genuinely looking forward to my marriage,” he remarked in the ensuing silence. “If only because it will represent the last time I will ever need to bow to you.”

His father started cursing again, but Jin Guangyao had already turned away, leaving him behind.

-

“A lot of a surprise, actually. I knew about Mingjue-xiong and Wangji and Wei Wuxian, but – but this…”

-

“Are you sure about this?” Jin Guangyao asked, a little anxiously, but Su She only smiled.

“It’s the least I can do,” he said. “Think of it as a gift of gratitude for all you’ve done for me.”

Normally, a statement like that would gratify Jin Guangyao’s heart like nothing else: the recognition he always wanted, the respect he deserved, and of course a reaffirmation of the influence he had over Su She, his most reliable supporter, the only person who really understood down to his bones that horrible craving for affirmation. However, perhaps influenced by Lan Qiren and the satisfactory knowledge that he would have Lan Qiren’s expectations to accompany him for the rest of his life – to live up to when he could, to be punished when he couldn’t – Jin Guangyao found himself for once thinking primarily, even exclusively, of another person’s well-being.

“It is not the least you can do, Minshan,” he informed him. “You are capable of anything you wish. Jin Zixuan has promised to continue to support your sect even in my absence –”

“And Teacher Lan has offered his support as well,” Su She said, his cheeks pink with pleasure. “All thanks to you…Madame Lan.”

Jin Guangyao felt his own cheeks grow hot – though mostly with pleasure.

Hm. A subject to explore with Lan Qiren later on, perhaps.

“Are you supposed to be flirting with another man like this?” Xue Yang taunted, breaking the moment, and both Jin Guangyao and Su She exchanged long-suffering looks.

“I’m quite serious,” Jin Guangyao said, ignoring Xue Yang with practiced ease. “Your sect is so small and new, aren’t you worried about the damage involved in taking a walking disaster like this in?”

“Hey!” Xue Yang said, though he didn’t look actually offended. “Who’s the bigger disaster here, me or the guy shacking up with an old man with no personality?”

“It’s fine,” Su She said yet again, also ignoring him. “He’s just a brat whose ideas are all theoretical –”

“Only because neither of you ever got me enough people to fucking try them out with!”

“ – and I’m sure I can find a way to make him useful.”

“In your dreams,” Xue Yang huffed. “I’d like to see you try. I’ll fuck up all your plans, just you watch.”

Su She looked at him sidelong. “Oh,” he said. “Too bad. I guess I’ll just have to cancel my plans to try to make a connection with the Jiang sect by asking Wei Wuxian to visit, then…”

“Wait, what?! No, wait, wait, don’t do anything hasty. You should definitely tell him to come – or I can go to him – I have so many questions – so many ideas – fuck, I need to write some down, why haven’t I written them down, where the fuck is there some paper – ”

Jin Guangyao smiled, and Su She winked at him.

“Congratulations once again on your impending marriage,” he said. “I look forward to raising a cup in your honor – to both of you.”

Just as it should be.

-

“Xichen,” Lan Qiren finally said, less an interruption than a very gentle interjection. “Would you like me to be punished?”

Lan Xichen looked utterly horrified at the mere thought of it.

“After all, you are my sect leader,” Lan Qiren continued. “I should not have proposed marriage, much less a politically influential marriage involving another Great Sect, without your permission. I have undermined your authority and undone many of my previous efforts in that regard, and in doing so I have violated several rules, not least of all Do not act impulsively. It would be quite reasonable –”

“Absolutely not, shufu!” Lan Xichen interrupted. “Absolutely, definitively not!”

“Xichen, we’ve spoken about this before. When someone has wronged you, they must be punished so that the lesson is learned, both by the individual and the community. It doesn’t matter what their identity is –”

“That only applies if you’ve wronged me,” Lan Xichen said quickly. “But you haven’t, really. You’ve helped me! I could hardly have said all those things without escalating matters from an argument between peers to a fight between sect leaders, and yet A-Yao is my sworn brother, who I am obligated to defend – really, shufu, you’ve helped tremendously. Really.”

Lan Qiren seemed unconvinced. “And you don’t mind that I am marrying your good friend?”

“I…no, of course not,” Lan Xichen said, and seemed to decide right at that moment that he was all right with it. “Shufu will take good care of A-Yao and treat him well, as well as he deserves to be treated, and he will respect and honor you as you deserve. You are both kind and gentle, good people who respect others, and this way A-Yao will not be forced to live in Lanling and be unhappy…”

He trailed off, his eyes lighting up as he presumably belatedly realized that the marriage meant that Jin Guangyao would be coming to live in the Cloud Recesses permanently, his own argument convincing him more thoroughly than anything either Lan Qiren and Jin Guangyao might have said.

“In fact, I cannot imagine anything better than for two of my favorite people to be in love. I will go and start arranging things at once,” Lan Xichen added, looking suddenly very excited. “We will have a proper wedding – between this and Wangji, we’ll be celebrating all year –”

“I’m glad you are happy for us,” Lan Qiren said, and Jin Guangyao nodded.

“Oh, yes! Congratulations to you both! May you both be happy and joyful for the rest of your days!”

Jin Guangyao smiled as his sworn brother rushed off.

“That,” he said, heartfelt, “was amazing.”

Lan Qiren sighed. “I worry about Xichen sometimes,” he confessed, watching Lan Xichen excitedly stopping everyone in his path to tell them what they already knew. “He can be a little – gullible.”

“Only with those who are sincere,” Jin Guangyao said with perfect confidence: that was how he’d always managed to trick Lan Xichen in the past, knowing that only behavior based on a genuine emotion, however manipulated for the circumstance, would win him over. Lan Qiren’s statements wouldn’t have been nearly as effective in convincing Lan Xichen if he hadn’t sincerely meant each and every one of them, including his apology and his concern regarding stealing away one of Lan Xichen’s few friends. “Anyway, we can work on being a little more discerning with him in the future; there’s still time.”

“That’s true,” Lan Qiren said, and put his hand on Jin Guangyao’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “We have all the time in the world.”

Jin Guangyao’s smile widened, and, realizing he was now allowed, he turned around and caught Lan Qiren up in a hug of his own.

He was never letting this man go.

Chapter Text

Excerpts from Lan Qiren’s personal journal:

…cannot express how overjoyed I am to see Xichen back with us, unharmed in body and resolute in spirit. I initially feared asking too many questions about what happened to him after he fled the Cloud Recesses, in truth as much for the prospect of drawing his ire (for he was most reluctant to leave in the first instance, and did so only on my express orders) as for fear of prodding at some vulnerable point, but in fact he has been quite open about his experiences. In particular, he mentions one name repeatedly, a certain Meng Yao, originally of Yunping, as someone who provided him with a lifeline in his darkest moment. The name seems somewhat familiar to me, likely through my political correspondence, but I have lost all my notes to the flames…

…Xichen mentioned Meng Yao to me again today, as the latter, upon Xichen’s recommendation, has apparently found employment in the Nie sect. This is eminently reasonable, given the Nie sect’s well-deserved reputation for accepting and promoting disciples purely upon merit, but caused me some strange confusion that lasted until I finally remembered where I heard the name before. I have reflected in the past upon the short-sightedness of Jin Guangshan’s deplorable behavior in regards to those children he begets and then abandons, but to cast someone of his own blood out of Jinlin Tower in such a shameful and public way, ruining their reputation in the future, is even more shameful…

…Meng Yao visited the Cloud Recesses upon business for the Nie sect. As expected, he is a charming young man, polite, graceful even in the face of adversity and remarkably intelligent; he is exceedingly pleasant company. I have done what I can to make him feel welcome, knowing as I do how cruel others in the cultivation world can be – there is nothing like being a teacher for seeing the small indignities that people will heap upon each other over miniscule differences, much less a matter that is commonly considered disgraceful – but I do not know if it will be sufficient; the sect’s rules against gossip are among those most easily broken. I have decided to forestall this by spending further time with him myself…

…another visit from Meng Yao. After concluding business, he accompanied me for the entire afternoon, during which we spoke for over a shichen on the subject of regional music variations. I have not had such an enjoyable time since before the war began…

…letter from Meng Yao arrived. I do not recall precisely when we picked up a correspondence, but seeing a message from him is always a highlight – his writing is clear and concise in regards to the duties to which we are both entrusted, lengthy and effusive in regards to other interests we share in common. I will add in a visit to our library (or what remains of it) to my schedule for the evening in order to consult some texts for the purpose of composing my reply…

…Meng Yao in a mood today. It comes upon him at times – all the bitter gall he has been swallowing for so many years rising up to the surface, no doubt. I am honored that he feels comfortable enough with me to display it openly, rather than hiding behind a mask of politeness as he does with others. He has gone out to fulfill certain errands, but when he returns I will propose spending some time refining some of the musical techniques he has picked up on the battlefield, which I hope will please him and ease his temper. His cultivation skills are exceedingly admirable, though of necessity limited by his lack of foundation, a fact which I know he sorely regrets; despite that, he is an apt pupil in the ideal mold, as enthusiastic to learn as I am to teach. I do not know whether he knows how much of a gift it is to me to have the opportunity to act as teacher once more, rather than as a general – I will need to find a way to express my gratitude…

It is not gratitude, and I am a fool. No more today.

…have spent a great deal of time as of late in meditation. Xichen has told me that he approves, as the rest (insofar as it is rest, given how much of my time is still devoted to matters of war) has been beneficial to my health, which has deteriorated once more, now featuring recurrent intermittent colds and fevers – I wonder if he would still approve if I told him that the primary subject of my thoughts has been neither music nor the sect rules, but rather his friend Meng Yao.

It is a matter of great consternation to me that I have found myself seemingly making the same mistakes of my family’s past, which I had thought, incorrectly it seems, I had avoided. Our family has forever been drawn to inappropriate matches of the heart, and it seems I am no exception. I have taken to questioning myself, wondering if I am merely conflating innocent affection with something more as a result of the tense times in which we live, but the answers I find within my heart appear in earnest…

…somewhat relieved to hear that Meng Yao’s visits have ceased because he is on some other mission, according to Xichen, rather than as a result of our interactions, though of course I now worry for his health and safety, as the casualty count of this dreadful war grows ever higher. Despite my concerns, what I (selfishly) fear most is that I have somehow behaved inappropriately and provided Meng Yao with the further burden of unwanted attentions to carry. He is the same age or even younger than some of my students, younger than my nephew, rendering my interest wholly improper; the thought that he might requite my affections is naturally absurd, and yet I find myself examining our previous interactions, my fevered mind obsessing over some phrase or another that seems to suggest otherwise.

For instance, I had on some early occasion mentioned to him my disinterest in carnal matters – I thought it wholly innocent at the time, a mere gesture seeking to reaffirm that he was safe with me, given the storms he has undoubtedly had to suffer in the past past, though perhaps in retrospect it was in fact a sign of my impending doom – and he responded far more positively than I would have expected, saying that it seemed to him far better to separate matters of sex from romance, that the disinterest in the former should not forestall progress in the latter. I assume I am once again deceiving myself, but it is a pleasure, albeit a guilty one, to imagine a future in which his words were meant specifically for me.

Still, as I have said, this behavior is inappropriate. I will assign myself further punishment…

…Xichen unburdened himself to me today. Meng Yao doing something far more dangerous than I had previously imagined. I keep him in my thoughts…

…now properly referred to as Jin Guangyao. The name itself is an insult – the current generation name is Zi – and I am disgusted in Jin Guangshan for his pettiness and malice, as I have often been before. Still, I hope that Jin Guangyao finds some satisfaction in knowing that he has achieved the impossible, as the Jiang like to put it, in forcing that odious man to give him any recognition at all…

…Xichen tells me Jin Guangyao will be coming to visit soon, relevancy primarily to the subject of rebuilding. Despite this, I find my foolish heart leaping for joy at the prospect of seeing him once more. Will need to remind myself not to go overboard. The rules say Maintain your own discipline…

No entry today. Much has happened, but my hands are shaking too much to note them down.

…excitement and fear warring within me. Excitement, that I am not alone in this; fear, that I unknowingly overstepped my bounds and manipulated Jin Guangyao’s emotions in my favor. And yet I cannot help thinking that he had other options, other alternatives – he even had Xichen, if all he wanted was family – and yet he chose me, and granted me such intimacy as I could not have expected. I have issued many punishments over time, yet I feel certain that this was not merely discipline or the need for absolution, but more. The expression on his face, of unleavened trust and what I might dare call ecstatic bliss, as we went through it together (he insisted on privacy) will be a cherished memory forever more.

Yet despite my enthusiasm, I remain afraid, and remind myself that I must be cautious to avoid seeing what I wish to see rather than what is truly there. It is essential that I control myself, conduct myself properly, and make sure to verify with Jin Guangyao before proceeding further…

…conduct leaves no room for doubt. Ah, Qiren, Qiren, how did you end up like this? Did you not long ago give up on love, that pestilent family curse? How do you now find yourself in such a ridiculous state? This sort of secret affair, where neither party can say what they mean because of the burdens of duty and politics and yet both are well aware of each other’s intent, is not meant for the likes of you: have you not always been clumsy with understanding people, more naturally inclined to speak your mind than to be subtle, one whose peers teased for being too old even as a young man..? And yet here I find myself despite it all. Is this what they speak of when they say that love is like spring, turning even old men young once more? I must avoid letting others see too much, or else everyone will know of my foolishness – and yet, at the same time, I wish for nothing else but the world to see and know, a sadly impossible state –

Maintain your own discipline. My words and thoughts have been scattered and disorderly: I return to the beginning, and start again.

I would like to think I had no further intentions in arranging for some privacy on today’s night-hunt than to try to find some time for us to confirm what had come up between us. I have hinted to Xichen before that I have grown very fond of Guangyao, but I think he has not understood, and I did not wish to clarify further before confirming with Guangyao what his views on the matter were. As it is, it seems apparent to me that he does not wish for our entanglement to become more known – we discussed politics at some length during the night-hunt, and he insisted firmly on taking the practical view, speaking meaningfully of the primacy of instilling in soldiers a fierce loyalty in their own sects, ranking such loyalty above even efficient martial skills. In combination with his comments about some troubles he has had in Lanling City, it seems clear to me that he feels that we cannot make explicit what is currently implicit, lest his duty to his father require him to report on the subject once it is made apparent. I appreciate his concern for me (for Jin Guangshan would immediately try to use it against both me and my sect), and understand the dangers of his own precarious situation back home. Although I would dearly like to make our relationship known to the world, for such public recognition is no less than he deserves, I am not as impulsive or headstrong as I was as a young man – we will wait, for now, and look to the future for an opportune moment.

For a moment I briefly thought that he might even want to recant the whole thing entirely, returning to the purely platonic relationship of colleagues alone, but then, with a mischievous look, he rather deliberately cast himself down in such a way that required me to take him into my arms, with a convenient nearby location for us to sit side-by-side on a bed already located in advance. His schemes are so delightfully charming..! I would rather he not have injured himself, if I had a say in it, but it did give me an excuse to put my hands on him for quite some time, to his very evident enjoyment and mine. He even went out of his way to reassure me that he did not find the age gap between us an impediment – really, to call me ‘gege’ in a flirtatious tone like that is to show how paper-thin our excuses have already become…! He backed away from it moments later, of course, at least verbally (it is as if he were afraid of being overheard, though I suppose that is not unwise a habit to develop in Lanling), but he gazed straight at me when he suggested that he could rely upon a sworn brother, and his meaning was very clearly not signifying brotherly intentions in the slightest.

I still feel the fool, falling for such a young man, but if I must be foolish, then better I be one whose affections are returned…

…is not that I do not wish to scold Wangji, at least a little – at least over his apparently unceasing passion for Wei Wuxian, who in his unorthodoxy and demonic cultivation has the potential to be quite dangerous, though I admit that introducing Nie Mingjue into the mix has to a certain degree calmed my fears. Nie Mingjue is far from level-headed himself, but he is a good judge of character, though I am still somewhat concerned…still, thinking ruefully of my own circumstances, I have decided to refrain from passing any judgment for the moment. I am not sure yet that Wangji is aware that I know – Nie Mingjue told me himself in order to ask for my blessing, that blessedly straightforward boy, but I think he may have forgotten to tell Wangji that he has done so – and it does give me some little amusement to think about his reaction when I do finally inform him. It is a pity that the matter was conveyed to me in confidence, or else I would mention it to Guangyao, who I think would find it equally amusing…

…embarrassed to be so ill. I was worried about what Guangyao might think – he has his pick of the world, full of cultivators far better and more able-bodied than I, not to mention younger – but of course he took it well in stride; he even used it as an opportunity to find an excuse for us to spend hours cloistered together. Delighted to find Guangyao becoming increasingly more daring in stealing chances to take me into his arms, and to let me do the same with him…

…Guangyao has somehow put together a plan for me to meet with Su Minshan that accords with all our requirements – privacy, lack of commitment, etc. What a wonder he is! I continue to feel exceptionally lucky, and also as if the rest of the world is blind for having overlooked such a treasure. This whole business of being in love is not as dire as I had feared it to be; I remain myself, capable of self-control, and it has not taken the soul of me. Perhaps our Lan hearts ought to be viewed more in the same light as our inability to drink: a familial trait, a burdensome one, but one that depends on the individual and the circumstances to make it turn good or bad…

Proposed to Guangyao today and was accepted. Jin Guangshan is a foul creature, unworthy of having sired such fine sons; he sought to use Guangyao as a scapegoat for his own sins. First for what happened at Qiongqi Path, and then to imply that Guangyao would have tried to murder his own kin – I could scarcely speak out of indignation! It makes one think once again about the rumors that were present when Jin Guangshan himself ascended to his present position…enough, let me think of him no longer. Let me instead fill my mind with thoughts of Guangyao, who is as happy as I have ever seen him.

Once we had a moment to speak, I assured him that I did not intend to propose marriage in such a roughshod manner – I had assumed that building up the necessary political momentum to force a positive answer, or at least to make Jin Guangshan believe there were enough benefits in it for him to agree, would take a great deal more time, and I suspect Jin Guangyao thought the same, given his surprise; it was only that in the moment it seemed to me to be the obvious solution. And it did resolve the problem…

Xichen took it as well as could be hoped. He is even now rushing around trying to set up a preposterously oversized wedding – I think I will have no choice but to comply with his wishes, given that I am stealing away his dear friend to claim for my own. Guangyao has confided in me that he finds Xichen a little too easy to manipulate at times (I agree), but that he has some ideas on how to help him improve. Have already started thinking with great anticipation of having Guangyao to assist and advise me on my classes in the future – a little ridiculous, I know, to think of teaching at a time like this, but I cannot help it.

Overall, very happy. Believe this to be the first of many such entries going forward.