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He was fourteen when he was thrown down the steps of his fathers palace.
Fourteen when he was abandoned by his father, his own flesh and blood in favour of wallowing in the dirt and his own blood.
Alone.
Meng Yao knew what the world was like. Living in a brothel he truly didn’t have much choice in knowing this fact, but maybe even he still held some sort of hope that maybe his father in all his goodness and grace wouldn’t be the kind of man to do something like this. To ignore his suffering child in favour of celebrating the other. As he walks through the forest, limping and in a great deal of pain he begins to concoct a plan in his mind.
What could he do now?
What could he do to prove to his father he was worthwhile to have?
Yes, he would get into one of the best sects and prove himself—perhaps the Nie or Lan sects. Then his father would have no choice but to accept him. He would have to acknowledge him in some way if he could prove himself.
He feels more blood pooling in his hand and winces as he continues to walk.
“Are you okay?” He startles at the voice, looking behind him quickly at the—cultivator? Yes, he was sure of it—holding a large sack of something. He looks concerned, already dressed for the occasion of Meng Yao’s grief in all white. He walks closer and Meng Yao struggles for a moment to bow respectfully. His hip is the worst of it, though he doesn’t doubt that he must have bruised or perhaps broken a few ribs with how his chest is aching. The man’s eyes widened. “You are injured.” The cultivator drops the sack and rushes over to him, taking his arm, the one steadily bleeding, and inspects it closely.
“Ah, it’s nothing, this lowly one just…” but the cultivator is already ushering him over to a sturdy tree, as he digs into his sleeves.
“Sit, sit, we should get this taken care of.” The arm around his shoulders and hand holding his arm soothe him, reminding him so much of his mother and that makes a fresh new wave of tears choke him. “How did you get such a wound?”
“It, it was nothing I just… It was my fault I tripped and,” he mumbles, gesturing to himself. The cultivator doesn’t look all that convinced but says nothing more, continuing to wrap his arm and apply some medicine. His hip hurts even more now that he is sitting and he tries to shift a bit to put pressure off it.
“Can you tell me your name? I am Xie Lian.” He feels like that name is faintly familiar, like one he heard while on the cusp of sleep. He thinks perhaps his mother knew this cultivator. What luck then, perhaps he could convince him to take him in as a disciple.
“Meng Yao,” he mumbles to himself, sitting up a bit taller as he says it. Like it was a name worth being proud of.
“Oh,” Xie Lian looks sad as he finishes wrapping Meng Yao’s arm. He isn’t sure what to make of the look on the other’s face, but he does know it doesn’t look good. The cultivator looks close to tears even with a smile on his face.
Then yes, he must have known Meng Shi if just hearing his name gave this kind of reaction.
“Then she…” Xie Lian stops himself, reaching back into his sleeve, rummaging around for a bit before producing a small steamed bun. It still looks relatively fresh as he holds it out for Meng Yao. “You must be hungry, eat a bit before we go.”
He takes the bun slowly and feels tears pricking his eyes. He was hungry, he feels like he has been for the longest time.
“If you want to talk I’m here.” Xie Lian takes a seat next to him beneath the tree and doesn’t touch him, not more than he has to while sitting shoulder to shoulder to Meng Yao. He appreciates it, because he isn’t sure if he could handle more than that at the moment.
He bites into the mantou and begins to cry. Big heavy tears that feel hot on his face. He sucks in a breath, or, he tries to and his breath hitches in his chest. Sobs leave him freely as he tries to chew. It was rare he could ever share a meal prepared by his mother with her but it reminds him so much of her.
Perhaps the wound in his chest is still fresh.
A hand comes to his shoulder and rubs a few times in an attempt to soothe him. He appreciates the attempt, even if it only makes him feel worse and he chokes out a few more sobs.
“It was my father.” He mumbles, feeling something bubbling under his skin. He knows it is a growing anger. A rage at the world who let his mother wither away to nothing without a care for her. “He threw me out of his palace and down every step of Koi Tower.” He sniffles and takes another bit of the mantou, fueling more tears. “I cannot return to the brothel I lived in without some sort of payment. But he didn’t accept me even though he promised! And my, my a-niang she’s… she’s dead and he doesn’t-doesn’t care and, and-!”
Xie Lian pulls him into a hug suddenly, just grabs his arm and brings him to rest against his chest and he sobs even more. A hand comes to his hair and brushes back the matted and dirty locks from his unclean face. He clings to the white robes and tries to halt his tears which only seems to succeed in making it worse.
“I know how that feels,” the man in white says to him as he continues to hiccup softly. “To fall from grace, pushed by someone you trusted.”
He backs away from the man with a confused sniffle before he sees the mess he made of the cultivators' robes. He feels bad instantaneously. He also takes note of the amount of red already staining into the fabric. Ah, he is bleeding, or has blood in his hair. Or both. Most likely both.
This is confirmed when Xie Lian holds out a cloth to press against his forehead. He holds it there himself as Xie Lian begins to speak.
“Do you have any idea of where to go now?” He shakes his head, breath hitching in his throat once again.
“No, I–I don’t have anyone.” The last anyone he might have had just threw him down hundreds of steps.
“Perhaps, just for the time being, you could stay with us.”
Meng Yao looks up in astonishment as Xie Lian smiles at him. He watches Xie Lian press two fingers to his temple and close his eyes for a moment. He perks up, opening his eyes and looking at Meng Yao.
He watches the man stand with ease and offer a hand to Meng Yao.
He takes it with only a moment’s hesitation.
“Come, lets go.” He doesn’t question where they will go, just falls into step, as much in step as he can, and follows the cultivator leading him away from Lanling.
“I need to bury my mother.” He mumbles, thinking of her body where he had left it in the forest, surrounded by flowers and the trees. “I-I should make sure she has no ghost and can pass on.”
“Okay,” Xie Lian says simply, the hand holding his shoulder tightening just a fraction. “We will bury her once I know you are safe.”
He glances back at where Koi Tower is. He thinks about how his brother would be celebrating this day without even knowing he was there. At least his birthday seems to be turning around.
Meng Yao doesn’t know exactly how he ended up here, it was like one second Xie Lian was leading him through the doorway of an inn and the next he was standing in one of the most luxurious rooms he has ever seen. The walls and floor and bed and everything is covered in red, the draperies of the windows and the plush carpet. He feels… out of place, like he doesn’t deserve to be here even if it was what he strived for. To be able to stand in a place like this and not feel strange.
The air here is thick with demonic energy and he almost chokes on it, even with his barely present golden core.
He is ushered into the room to sit on the bed and almost groans with how comfortable the bedding is for his sore muscles and most likely broken bones.
Just outside the window is a sea of red lanterns and rooftops. A dark and foreboding energy settles over it like a thick fog.
“T-This is-?” He exclaims when he sees the beings walking around.
He had heard tales of this place, but no living person was ever meant to see it. No living person could stand being there for long unless they were exceptionally strong. Meng Yao was not exceptionally strong and considering how even being here affected him he didn’t doubt it. Xie Lian smiles at him and Meng Yao thinks that maybe he was something more than a simple cultivator. Something stronger, stranger.
“My husband will be here soon,” he says as he brings over new, fresh bandages. “We can decide what to do from there.”
Meng Yao can do nothing else but nod a bit numbly. There was so much he needed to do now.
He needed to bury his mother. That would be the first order of business he needed to attend to. He couldn’t just leave her there. Then he needed to focus his golden core into something great. Something his father could be proud of. Something he couldn’t avoid. He needed his father’s acknowledgment because what else was he without it? Just the son of a prostitute.
“Meng Yao?” A voice asks and he is pulled from his thoughts of what the fuck he was meant to do now. He glanced up and sees a man in red standing in the doorway, a small child clinging to his robes. He bows to the newcomers as much as he can.
“San Lang,” Xie Lian says, relief crossing his face. “This is our guest, Meng Yao as I told you.” ‘San Lang’ nods slowly, walking into the room slowly. Meng Yao cannot tell what the man is feeling but he thinks it isn’t good.
“Welcome to the Ghost City, Meng Yao.” The man says with a small bow. “I am Hua Cheng, the Lord of this city.” Meng Yao feels a chill run up his spine. “You are welcome to rest here for the time being. Until you are certain of what you want to do.”
The child huffs and lightly kicks the Lord’s foot. Meng Yao thinks the kid is either crazy or simply has a death wish. “And this is A-Ying.” The child beams up at him but Meng Yao elects to ignore him for the moment.
“I want to return to my father.” He says as Xie Lian secured a bandage to one of his hands that had a sizable cut on his palm. Once he is finished with that he pulls out a little wash basin and comb. “I… I am a Jin and deserve to be treated as such. I will not stand for what he has done to me or my mother. I will prove him wrong.”
“Jin Guanshan?” Xie Lian glares at his husband when he says those two simple words, even as he continues to run his dampened fingers through Meng Yao’s hair, comb helping to work out the tangles from the blood and dirt clinging to him.
He is almost surprised that Hua Cheng would know that name. It was well known and well revered in the cultivation world, but considering Ghost City was something above the cultivation world, something most cultivators didn’t even believe in, he is shocked. Xie Lian turns to his husband momentarily.
“San Lang,” he says, sounding a bit exasperated but fond. “You know you cannot touch him, no matter how much you want to.”
“But gege,” his husband whines, eyes like a kicked puppy as his hand trails to the sword at his side. “There’s no rules about messing with his life for a bit, right?”
Xie Lian seems to consider this for a moment. “...Just take some of his luck, and maybe weaken his golden core.”
Meng Yao looks at him like he is crazy.
What… what purpose did that serve? Why do that to a man who was most likely inconsequential to the two of them? Did they perhaps… already hold a grudge with his father?
He wouldn’t be too surprised if he were honest. Jin Guanshan, as much as he was beloved among many, had just as many enemies. Perhaps even more. But it still feels odd to him. What quarrel would a ghost have with a living man?
“Why are you doing this for me?”
He expects Xie Lian to speak up first but it is Hua Cheng who answers him. Looking at him with a single dark eye. “Because you are a child, you deserve to be treated kinder.”
“I am not your child. You do not need to do this for a stranger.”
Xie Lian smiles at him softly. “Of course not, you are old enough to decide your own family but it seems as though your blood doesn’t want you. They refuse to even give you shelter. So, for as long as you wish you may call this place your home. If that is what you wish.”
He isn’t sure what he wants yet. But he thinks, maybe, it wouldn’t hurt. To have something to fall back on if he ever needed it.
“Gege should stay with us,” the child, Meng Yao thinks his name was A-Ying, spoke up with a pout, grabbing his arm. He hadn’t even noticed the child approach. He is only a bit smaller than Meng Yao, possibly only a few years younger than him as well and this makes him rather heavy against his arm which is still sore from his tumble.
“A-Ying, that is his choice to make.”
“But it isn’t faiiiiiirrrr!” He whines, tugging on Meng Yao’s arm, making his wince slightly. There’s even a bit of tears falling down his cheeks which Meng Yao believes has to be fake because there’s no way this child is so upset by this. He should know by now that the world was never fair, especially to people like Meng Yao who had nothing and no one.
What a spoiled brat Meng Yao thinks.
“Gege should stay with us!!!” He declares rather loudly. Burying his face into Meng Yao’s shoulder.
And while he has never had to deal with many children in the past Meng Yao still, almost instinctively, places a hand against the boy’s head. Mostly in an attempt to quiet his sobs and so he will stop drenching Meng Yao’s robes in his snot. He only had one set of robes! And they were already ruined and this child was not helping!
“A-Ying, I know you’re upset, but it’s A-Yao’s choice to make, and we should support him in that.” Xie Lian says gently, laying a hand against A-Ying’s back and rubbing circles.
“But I love gege more than anyone!”
Meng Yao doubts that, rather heavily in fact.
“Gege should live with us!!” He feels A-Ying clutching him tighter as he whines. Xie Lian looks like he wants to laugh with tears in his eyes. He looks up at Meng Yao with a smile.
“Well, if you would like I can become a part time teacher as I am with A-Ying.” He offers with a smile. And yes, Meng Yao would like that. Very much actually. He needed a teacher, someone who could help him in his goal of growing his golden core. He needed someone. Someone to take care of him until he was ready to go out into the world alone. “I can only help you so much, you will need a human teacher eventually, but I can certainly get you started. If you would like to live with us.”
Those words give him a moment of pause. Just a moment. He’d had a hunch. Xie Lian was so… odd for a human that the only real explanation would be he wasn’t. Not fully.
“I don’t think I could stand living here.” He laughs before realizing how his words could be taken. “I mean, it’s lovely but I am not…”
“Of course, we wouldn’t expect you to.” Xie Lian goes on to say with a smile. “Even A-Ying needs breaks from this place. It isn’t good for the living. We have a second home we split our time in, you can live there fully, if you wish.”
He glances down at A-Ying still clinging to him as if he would die if the child let go. He is no longer crying but he sniffles rather dramatically when he notices Meng Yao looking at him. “Gege should stay with us,” he mumbles tearfully, and sadly.
“I suppose,” he says, looking back up at Hua Cheng and Xie Lian. “I could use a teacher.”
A-Ying jumps up with a laugh and jumps around the room in celebration. Hua Cheng laughs at his antics and scoops him up to toss him in the air. Meng Yao feels faintly jealous of that. .
‘What have I gotten myself into?’ Meng Yao asks himself as he looks at his teacher's family.
A few years later.
“Have you heard the news?”
“What news?”
“The Chief Cultivator is dead!”
“What? How?”
“When did this happen?”
“They say he was just found in his room, surrounded by quite a destructive scene. They say it was for revenge.”
“I heard his guards say there were a whole lot of women entering and leaving.”
“They said they looked like ghosts. Perhaps his trips to the brothels are paying off!”
“Demonic cultivation then?”
“No doubt about it.”
“And what of his son? Isn’t he too young to rule?”
“I suppose that his mother will take over control of the sect now.”
“Wouldn’t it be smarter to let him take power? He is almost seventeen now.”
“That’s just what I’ve heard, apparently she was quite content with her husband's death.”
“There will be a void of power now.”
“Yes, we will be needing to decide a new Chief Cultivator.”
“Perhaps while the Lan Lectures are occurring?”
“Yes, those are happening soon are they not?”