Work Text:
1.
Yu Ziyuan was torn out of sleep by a household suddenly come alive again. Her wing was, thankfully, left some peace and quiet, but a cultivator of her standing was always aware of their surroundings. She found the servants in her husband’s quarters buzzing about, preparing room and meals, a-Li and a-Cheng woken by the ruckus and sleepily following her into the main hall.
She found her husband kneeling, hair and robes a mess as if he’d just hurried out of bed. In his arms, held dearer than anyone but their children, was a man Yu Ziyuan failed to recognize at first glance due to his own state of disarray.
She had met Wei Changze before as it had been just about as impossible to separate Fengmian from him as the river from Yunmeng. Yu Ziyuan remembered him as a composed and soft-spoken man, ever cheerful. Any late thought of him had been in gratitude to him for taking that rude loudmouthed wife of his far away from Lotus Pier.
The man in her husband’s arms seemed like a pale copy to the man in her memories. His right hand was curled around a child with the same dark hair, blinking as tiredly as her own children. The left he had buried in her husband’s robes, holding onto it like his last lifeline.
“She’s gone,” Wei Changze wept. “The spirit—There was no time to act.”
Ah, so that Cangse Sanren was dead? Yu Ziyuan couldn’t grieve for a woman whose existence hadn’t contributed a single positive to her life, but she supposed she could pity the husband and child she left behind.
“Come,” she told her own children. “This is of no matter to you. Your father will attend to it.”
Unsurprisingly, this tasted bitter too. It was a sight that soured further when she found her husband and Wei Changze gone the following day and the boy, Wei Ying, given in the care of her children’s minder.
The boy was subdued, no doubt mourning his mother, but at least he didn’t cause any trouble for a-Li or a-Cheng.
2.
Wei Changze was not a talented cultivator. He was clever enough to draw talismans and knowledgeable of many beasts, but it could not be disregarded that he’d started training late and only gained any cultivation ability because Jiang Fengmian had taken him as his personal attendant.
Yu Ziyuan considered his ability to read a room and, most importantly, his knowledge of when to back off as the man’s best skills. Yu Ziyuan had no knowledge of Fengmian formally inviting Wei Changze to stay, but he certainly didn’t behave like he expected Wei Changze to leave again. The man was no fool and the life of a lone rogue cultivator was beyond dangerous. While the circumstances weren’t ideal, Cangse Sanren’s loss haunting in the white of Wei Changze and his son’s robes, Wei Changze’s return wasn’t entirely unwelcome by her. The disciples who remembered him seemed especially happy.
Yunmeng Jiang needed more than just good cultivators, especially with how the Wen bolstered their numbers and encroached on territories.
So Wei Changze and his clever mind stayed at Lotus Pier. He wasn’t granted some specific position, but fell into step with Fengmian as if he’d never left his side. His room, one he shared with his son only half the time as Wei Ying had apparently taken to sneaking into a-Cheng’s, was right next to Fengmian’s. A sign of favor, or maybe an attempt at enticing the man to stay. Perhaps Fengmian wasn’t wholly without sense, refusing to give up such a valuable servant a second time. Meishan Yu certainly wouldn’t have let him leave given how much insight Wei Changze had into Yunmeng Jiang’s secrets.
Regardless, Wei Changze’s return to their ranks meant that Yu Ziyuan was free to observe the older disciples or go on more significant nighthunts as Jiang Fengmian’s additional workload was now carried by his servant.
“Uncle Wei! Uncle Wei!”
Yu Ziyuan looked away from the senior disciples she was observing into the direction she’d heard her son’s voice echo from.
A-Cheng and a-Li were hurrying after Wei Changze, both holding onto Wei Ying with their hands. “Uncle Wei!”
“Jiang-gongzi, Jiang-guniang, what are you hurrying after me for?” Wei Changze asked them, his tone perhaps a tad too sharp for his station. “Don’t you know it’s unbecoming for you to run through the house shouting?”
Despite her assessment, Yu Ziyuan nodded to herself. Her children should know better, and the man’s son too. With as much time as he spent with her children, he should have picked up some manners their tutors had bequeathed upon them. Yu Ziyuan hadn’t initially agreed to let the boy follow her children, but the tutors praised a-Cheng’s learning curve. Apparently, having someone there who could keep up with him challenged the boy. Perhaps she should look closer at how that relationship developed. Jinzhu and Yinzhu had been with Yu Ziyuan since her earliest childhood as well and had only aided her. Wei Changze knew what aid a sect leader needed and could teach his son the same.
“Uncle Wei, we were wondering if you could tell us a story?” A-Li asked.
This was not how a young lady of a clan should speak to a servant, but it wasn’t like Fengmian was doing anything to discourage the familiarity. He’d probably go ahead and swear brotherhood with Wei Changze to give their daughter an excuse before doing anything about their manners.
“One of the travel stories, Baba!” Wei Ying chirped in. “Please!”
The man paused. “I have a meeting with the Sect Leader Jiang later, but I do have some time now…. That is if you have finished your studies for the day.”
The children’s faces fell. An obvious denial.
“We can finish them really quick, Baba!” Wei Ying said. “Please, a story first?”
Wei Changze shook his head. “After, a-Ying. You have to take your responsibilities seriously first, then you can look for entertainment.”
Surprisingly, the children didn’t complain. They did pull faces, the boys at least, a-Li knowing better than to show such disregard in public, then they slowly trekked back in the direction of their rooms.
Yu Ziyuan turned away from the display and returned to training the disciples. No matter how unfavorable the life of a rogue cultivator could be, it was good that Wei Changze’s sense of responsibility hadn’t suffered from it. Yu Ziyuan wouldn’t stand for any educational influences on her children being less than they ought to be.
3.
For all that Yu Ziyuan had assumed Cangse Sanren couldn’t possibly haunt her after her death, the annoyance proved wrong. It ignited old anger, disrupted the quiet equilibrium she’d found herself in with Fengmian. Her husband hadn’t ever been an attentive spouse, but that wasn’t why Yu Ziyuan had married him either. Meishan Yu had pushed for the marriage, she had pushed for it, because it was an advantageous match. Still, it was only now that she realized how beneficial it would have been to have Wei Changze present in their home.
He kept the peace somewhat, polite to her in ways many of her husband’s servants hadn’t been when she’d first come to Lotus Pier.
And, most importantly, he was actually aware of the consequence nasty rumors had.
“A-Ying and I could visit Gusu for a while,” Wei Changze offered. “Lan Qiren is too busy with his boys to come here, but we’re old friends. It wouldn’t raise suspicion.”
Yu Ziyuan seriously doubted Lan Qiren would consider anyone close to Cangse Sanren a friend and Yunmeng Jiang didn’t need to aggravate their relationship with Gusu Lan since it had been improving steadily in the last year.
Fengmian, of course, only frowned. He didn’t get the implication, but Yu Ziyuan did. She supposed it was something only servants, spies, and wives learned.
She huffed. “Don’t be stupid,” she said. “That will only give the rumors more credibility. How arrogant these sects are to speak on a matter as if it concerns them.”
It wouldn’t matter if Fengmian simply treated Wei Ying less like he did a-Cheng. People were vicious because they chose to be. Fortunately, the lesser sects had chosen to fixate on a matter not only easily disproven, but also humiliating for them in the process.
“You should accompany Fengmian to the Discussion Conference in Lanling Jin next month,” Yu Ziyuan said. “Take the children too. See if they dare to slander our sect again then.”
Because no rumors could possibly survive seeing Wei Ying walking next to Wei Changze. By some blessing, the boy looked exactly like his father. And any favor he got from her husband would seem less because of his deceased mother, and rather because of his father’s hard work.
“And you will stay here?” Fengmian asked, his brows furrowed.
“Do you think me incapable?” Yu Ziyuan hissed, anger flaring. He had no right to question her. “Have I not stood at your side at all times? Or do you think yourself incapable of attending such a conference without me?”
“Of course not, my Lady,” Fengmian replied.
As expected, any rumors of Cangse Sanren being an unfaithful wife vanished. Instead, they talked about Wei Changze’s dedication and how the life of rogue cultivators truly was disastrous. Wei Changze bore it all with a smile.
4.
There was little need for Yu Ziyuan to spend time in her husband’s quarters, but his office, where sect matters were discussed, Yu Ziyuan passed frequently, picking up nighthunts and looking through the correspondence before her husband could make any foolish decisions. When she entered the room this time, she did not find her husband in it, but it also wasn’t unoccupied. Wei Changze sat at her husband’s desk, sorting through various papers while taking notes.
“Madam Yu,” he said her name before finishing with a proper greeting. “I apologize, your husband isn’t here.”
What did she care where Jiang Fengmian was? “I’m not here for him. I just wanted to see the recent correspondence.”
Wei Changze inclined his head. “Of course.”
He handed her the papers and Yu Ziyuan was surprised to see that the correspondence had already been sorted and annotated. “I didn’t know Jiang Fengmian employed you for this.”
“I used to do it as a boy,” Wei Changze said with a soft smile. “It was in part how I was taught to read.”
Of course, Jiang Fengmian was soft-hearted enough that he would teach his servant through his own writing. Fortunately, Wei Changze’s handwriting had turned out quite neat. The observations he’d added to the margins were also acceptable.
Just as she was about to turn, Jiang Fengmian entered the room. “A-Ze, have you seen the contract—”
“The table on your desk, Sect Leader,” Wei Changze replied, pointing at the letter.
“Thank you,” Jiang Fengmian replied. It was only then that he saw it fit to acknowledge her. “San-Niang, I thought you were on a nighthunt already?”
Bitterness coiled in her stomach. “I am heading out now.”
She had no patience for Jiang Fengmian’s stumbling.
5.
Yu Ziyuan had little patience for hosting minor sect leaders’ wives. Few of them did any cultivation work at all anymore, if they ever did, never mind instruct disciples or go on nighthunts. Their petty conversations bored Yu Ziyuan and all the preparations were hardly worth the energy they cost. Still, she endured them for the necessary connections, for her daughter’s future as Lanling Jin’s Madam. Jiang Yanli hardly had the constitution required to shine through her cultivation, nor was her daughter particularly cunning. Yu Ziyuan would think her a lost cause if her ability to manage a household wasn’t so keen.
Fortunately, Yu Ziyuan didn’t have to concern herself with all the petty intricacies of organizing such a minor meeting when she had someone reliable to do the work for her.
Cangse Sanren had hardly known the worth of silver when she’d come down from her Master’s mountain, and dressed the part. While tales exaggerated the beauty of a woman who shone even without accessories or poise, the truth was that Cangse Sanren hadn’t possessed an eye for life’s delicacies.
Wei Changze, excluding that first evening he’d come to Lotus Pier with his son, was never anything but dressed appropriately. What little accessories Jiang Fengmian had gifted him, Wei Changze wore moderately, keenly aware of his standing.
The servants reported the status of their preparations to him, not even bothering to come to her with minor adjustments, and Wei Changze delegated them accordingly.
“The floral arrangements are lovely,” the wife of Madam Ouyang praised, her oldest daughter quickly agreeing and praising the choice of tea and snacks.
The other wives and daughters joined the chatter, surprising Yu Ziyuan a little. Some of it was feigned, but their statements had more truths than usual. Pleased, Yu Ziyuan accepted the praise, and smiled contently as one of the servants, perfectly timed without asking, refilled the trays. She hadn’t caught the girl’s name; she was a new hire. Maybe she’d ask after this tedious afternoon had passed.
+1
Yu Ziyuan paused at the raised voices, her righteous anger thundering like distant storms, the lightning not yet striking, but lying in wait.
“This has to stop,” Wei Changze said, sounding harsher than Yu Ziyuan had ever witnessed. The man’s nature was rather passive and tranquil. It was easy to believe that he’d enjoyed studying at Cloud Recesses, going with the quiet of the Lan. For him to speak out against Jiang Fengmian, her husband must have done something truly foolish.
“A-Ze—”
“No.” Wei Changze exhaled and continued on with a more level voice. “I will not be anyone’s kept mistress, Sect Leader. Not even yours.”
Lightning split a tree in two, sparks flying as flames engulfed it, licking up at the charred bark.
“I will not bring calamity upon this household and your wife. Even she does not deserve to be betrayed like this.”
“And I deserve all the wretchedness her presence brings upon me? Haven’t I been unhappy long enough? Will you deny me a second time?”
“We were boys.”
“And I adored you anyway, would love you still if you let me. Meishan Yu gained what they wanted and Yu Ziyuan has never cared to be a wife to me.”
“She is still your wife.”
“Only because I couldn’t marry you, because I loved how you adored your wife. Only because you told me to marry her. Had you said a single word against Yu Ziyuan, I would have rejected her until her family would’ve found me too bothersome.”
Wei Changze let out a sound stuck between a laugh and a sob. “And then what? Never married? Watched my marriage carry on?”
Jiang Fengmian was quiet for a while before he replied again. “Would that have been so terrible? I would have been content knowing you were happy. I’d have named one of my cousins my heir.”
The room was silent again, but Yu Ziyuan’s heart as loud as a drum. Was this why her husband scorned her all these years and refused to bed her more than necessary? He was a dirty cutsleeve? All his passivity, mild manners and language, he probably desired to be a man’s wife! And Wei Changze, that servant, was the recipient of his desires.
“I can’t deal with this now, Fengmian,” Wei Changze’s voice rang out. “I’ll take a-Ying to Gusu for a while. Lan Qiren has asked us to visit. You sort this out with your wife. Write me when you’re done.”
Revolted, Yu Ziyuan left the hallway before Wei Changze could pass her.
Only later, much later, when Wei Changze had left with his son, could she face her husband.
“Was he the reason you could never respect me?”
Yu Ziyuan did not know if she was relieved or disgusted that she didn’t have to name Wei Changze for her husband to understand.
“I have respected you as I should,” Jiang Fengmian dared to answer. “Did I ever break our betrothal contract? Have you not had servants to attend to you and the status Meishan Yu so desired? Tell me how I failed you, Yu Ziyuan!”
It were ten things, a hundred, a thousand petty reasons and grievances, but none as damning as Wei Changze.
“A servant?” was what finally left her mouth. “Is that who the great Jiang Fengmian chooses for his affections? Tell me how often you took him to bed, Jiang Fengmian!”
Yu Ziyuan had never seen Jiang Fengmian truly outraged, but his standing up straight, expression as cold as the winter, seemed to be it. Of course, his anger wasn’t a loud and violent thing, that would require him to have enough of a backbone.
“Hold your tongue, Yu Ziyuan.”
She scoffed. “Why should I? You have never considered me before, so carry on as you want, Jiang Fengmian. Make your servant boy your wife if you so desire it.”
She turned on her heel and stormed out of the office, away from Lotus Pier. She would not sleep under the same roof as her husband’s disrespect. Yu Ziyuan would not tolerate this embarrassment.
(+2
“Madam Jiang is back! Thank the Heavens, Sect Leader has been dreadful without—ack! What do you hit me for?”
“Address your betters appropriately, shidi.”
“Why? It’s not a lie. It certainly isn’t Madam Yu organizing the household.”)