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“Tell me about her.”
The moment the words are out of Jin Ling’s mouth, there’s a minute, almost imperceptible sound of someone inhaling sharply behind her in that way that signals that they’ve been surprised, caught trying to do something that perhaps they shouldn’t have.
“Tell you about who?”
Jin Ling looks to her left and up, just in time to catch Wei Wuxian rubbing his nose like he does when he’s embarrassed as he walks to stand next to where she’s seated. Honestly, Jin Ling doesn’t know whether she should feel more insulted by Wei-qianbei thinking he would still be able to sneak up on her, or by that stupid tone he speaks in whenever he tries to deflect.
“Hey!” With a twirl, he’s now in front of her, adopting one of the many ridiculous poses he makes when lecturing her, even when he’s technically just a few years her senior and she outranks him. “Don’t you know it’s rude to sneak off from a banquet in your honour?” There it is. So predictable. “It’s only right that you entertain the guests that so graciously have come to celebrate your birthday, Jin-zongzhu.”
The banquet began almost four shichen ago, with all the remaining guests so drunk at this point that none of them will have noticed her absence. The only ones who would have noticed are already in bed (damn Lans and their sleep schedules) or avoiding giving an answer to her question.
Jin Ling is out here in the first place because Zizhen couldn’t attend the banquet, and she needed an escape. She made peace with the fact that Zizhen wouldn’t be here today weeks ago. Her friend is still recovering from his encounter with a vicious yaoguai eel that attacked him out of nowhere a month ago. The outing was supposed to be an easy night-hunt to help train his youngest sister in catching water ghouls.
The initial relief of having his wellbeing secured turned into mild annoyance at whoever failed to perform proper reconnaissance at the area before that practice. Whoever was responsible better be prepared to pay.
Thus, when the two Lans reluctantly retired for the night, the Ouyang-Zizhen sized hole became even more pronounced. He’s the one who has always helped her go through these tedious banquets the most, staying by her side until the moment it became acceptable for her to retire to her chambers.
She has to admit, though, that this has led in the past few months to more than one awkward situation because of her chaperones. Or lack of thereof. Adjusting to her new reality hasn’t come without its trials and difficulties. Which is dumb and she’d like to over-rule all that very much, but as it turns out, being Jin-zongzhu isn’t enough to change protocol and social customs.
Still, Jin Ling thinks that her birthday should give her the opportunity to do whatever she desires, at least. What point is there in celebrating her birthday if one of her friends can’t come? Etiquette and intersect relationships are stupid like that, no one can convince her of the opposite.
And so, she has found herself in this celebration in her (supposed) honour, where she has to entertain a bunch of self-important sect leaders and sycophants that parade their sons and daughters in hopes she will marry one of them. Her being a woman is still news in the jianghu, even if it’s almost been two years. And apparently, the new thing for people to speculate about concerns her future marriage prospects and the perpetuation of the Jin family name. As if they had any right to do so.
The only good thing about this banquet was witnessing Jingyi, now heir to the Lan Sect, dismissing some of the most shameless comments he heard.
(“I’m not saying that you should press for a marriage between your boy and Jin-zongzhu, I’m just wondering if her relationship with him and those Lans is within the bounds of propriety!”
“And I’m wondering when Yao-zongzhu will learn to be less impudent!” he said, loud enough to be heard in the whole banquet hall when he and Sizhui passed near an uncomfortable Ouyang-zongzhu on their way to where Jin Ling was busy talking to her head disciple. Both Lans had looked particularly mad with that insinuation, making Yao-zongzhu blanch with shame.)
She knows for a fact that Wei-qianbei shares her abhorrence for these events, because her birthday banquets are the only ones he attends to, and he just started doing so four years ago. That’s why instead of gracing that dumb attempt at a distraction with a response, Jin Ling simply raises an eyebrow at him and lowers her gaze to keep drinking in the rare picture drawn by the lotus pond in front of her.
“Wei-qianbei, you know what I mean. Tell me about her, please.”
Usually, at this point of the year there are no more flowers. The pond becomes a cluster of browned leaves, and withered pods asking to be pruned. This has been an exceptionally long summer, though, its chorus of nocturnal animals ceasing their symphonies just last week. This means that there’s still one tenacious blossom floating in the water, calling out to her. She doubts she’s ever seen a lotus in bloom this late in the year even at Lotus Pier.
Above her, Wei Wuxian clicks his tongue after some time, frustrated to be so easily seen through.
“Okay, but only because it’s your birthday.”
When he sits down at the other end of the bench, Jin Ling has to refrain from smiling and preening like she normally would at such a clear concession. A clear display of satisfaction might deprive her of attaining her goals, and she’s not about to waste this opportunity so foolishly.
“Shush, don’t look so smug about it.”
Alright, maybe Wei Wuxian knows her tells just as much as she knows his. Fair is fair. Jin Ling is still determined not to let her amusement away when she hears him muttering, “you really are your father’s daughter…” before sighing as if he was suffering an enormous grievance.
She’s almost tempted to antagonize Wei Wuxian just for the sake of it. With a side-eyed glance in his direction, she sees that he has his head turned towards her. His lips are actually curving in a lopsided smile. Wei Wuxian’s eyes stray down to the clarity bell strapped to her waist before he shifts to rest his weight on his right arm behind him.
“Your mother was… amazing. Your father didn’t deserve her.”
Jin Ling scoffs at that. She has grown on tales about the way that her parents’ marriage had been remarkable for the love they had for each other, on his father’s accomplishments during the war. No way she’s believing that.
“No, I’m serious! Did you know the betrothal was broken off for years?”
“What? No. You’re lying!” He is lying, right? She has never heard of a broken betrothal. “Why would they?”
“Well, your father had been horrible to her for years and I...” Wei Wuxian trails off after that, ducking his head and giving a light kick to the floor. “Wait, why are you asking me? Hasn’t Jiang Cheng told you any of this?”
Jin Ling squints her eyes. She wants to push, keep prodding until the bottomless pit that is her thirst for something, anything that will take her closer to her parents is satiated. It’s been months since she realized she needs to know, that she isn’t happy anymore with the meagre scraps she has come across through the years.
The tales and the few relics that she has managed to get a hold on paint an idolized picture about them, one that she knows can’t be real when her life has been full of people turned legend. There’s nobody to ask about her father, but her mother… Well. She has not one but two primary sources that grew up next to her on hand.
Breathing in, Jin Ling prepares to let out the next tool in her arsenal that will grant her passage to what she wants. She can’t have Wei Wuxian bullshitting her now. But then, her mouth snaps shut when she gets a glimpse at his eyes. They seem to get a light glossy sheen and his eyelids tremble ever so lightly, darting between Jin Ling’s own face and his swinging legs before him, as if they were the most interesting thing ever.
Sizhui would be really proud of her right now. She can practically see him, a soft curve in his mouth and smiley eyes crinkling at the corners in a silent praise for her consideration and emotional maturity. Ugh.
“I can’t. It— it would hurt him.” Just like it’s hurting you, she thinks. “He thought I was her, once. That’s actually how he learnt about,” she doesn’t finish the sentence, a wave of her hand towards herself sufficing to fill the gap. “I don’t think Jiujiu knows I heard him, though.”
“Think again, brat.”
Jiang Cheng’s sudden arrival startles her so much it’s a small miracle she manages not to curse out loud. It takes a few moments for her heart rate to go down and Jin Ling immediately knows that she is done for. Jiang Cheng doesn’t stop at their side. Instead, he strides until he’s standing next to the pond, arms crossed behind his back as he paces leisurely around it.
“I thought I raised you to know better than to talk behind my back. Seems we both need to reevaluate.”
“I’m sorry, Jiujiu.”
Jin Ling is convinced that the shame of needing to be lectured by her uncle will never abate. On the contrary, it seems to keep getting stronger, somehow. She hears Wei Wuxian snickering next to her and she doesn’t hesitate to level him with a glare.
Of course, when Jin Ling sees the back of her uncle’s head turning to shoot a dirty look to the offender that shuts him up right away, it’s her turn to revel on the fact. At least, she does until she notices the way that he stops in his tracks and turns to give her a very pointed look.
Right, I am in trouble.
“Did you ever bother to ask?”
Jin Ling automatically goes to rebuke him, of course she has asked to know more! How could he accuse her of not asking? But then, while she tries to recall those instances, she finds nothing. The result of this vacillation is a brief sequence where she winds up opening and closing her mouth like a very confused fish.
When she notices her own reaction, Jin Ling is so embarrassed that she can almost hear what Jingyi would say if he were here to see her. So very dignified of you, Jin-xiaojie, he would drawl, looking slightly upwards because she's finally taller than he is. Does she use that to her advantage to make him shut up? Absolutely.
“There you go,” Jiang Cheng remarks with a sense of finality that leaves no place for debate before resuming his circular stroll. The next moments they spend in complete silence, only broken by the faint sounds of conversation coming from the Pageantry Hall right until Jiang Cheng breaks it. “Well? Are you going to ask what you want to know?”
“Right! Uh, what— what was A-Niang like?”
Hearing herself stumble over her own words, Jin Ling winces, pained by her own self-sabotaging tendencies. Couldn’t her brain provide her with something more specific? She wasn’t going to be able to right her faux pas. She should be thankful her uncle is even allowing her to ask instead of dismissing her like she thought he would.
“You know that already.”
“I— yes, I know,” she sighs, thinking exactly of the same empty reminiscences that everyone around her parroted while she grew up, showing they knew nothing about her in truth. “I meant what was she really like? Did she have any quirks? Any weird fixation? Anything that she only shared with the two of you?”
Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng’s eyes meet for a fleeting moment at this last question, immediately looking away. Seven years and these two still act as if locking gazes with each other burns them. It’s painful to see how much they care.
Sometimes, Jin Lin feels a very strong urge to grab them by the shoulders and shake some sense into them. Rolling her eyes at how incredibly awkward they continue to be with each other will have to suffice for now. Still, things have come a long way. She thought they were already past this.
Another item to add to the list of ‘Things I was wrong to think.’
Whatever.
“She hated peaches,” Wei-qianbei chimes up.
“So you knew?”
Jin Ling doesn’t need to see her uncle to know that he’s arching a brow. Whatever this is, she’s watching them with bated breath, eager for what tidbits of information they might want to give her. She’s aware that they could be lying to her, and she would be happy to hear it anyway as long as she can finally picture her niang as a real person, and not some far-away abstract concept.
“Of course I did. She always made sure I ate the whole tray the servants brought for us, and never once I saw her picking up a piece when she cut and peeled them for me and you.”
Her uncle might have huffed a laugh at that, but Jin Ling isn’t completely sure. She doesn’t even think about asking. That would mean risking breaking whatever spell that has befallen her elders in this moment to prompt the candid honesty in their voices.
A quacking exhale leaves her as her lips curve into a smile.
Jiang Cheng’s voice turns almost imperceptibly softer with affection when he speaks next, slower than usual, making Jin Ling wonder if it’s because he’s giving himself time to relive the memories.
“One time, when I was five, she fed me so many she made me sick. After that, she began throwing them in the lake and giving them off to other disciples because I wouldn’t eat her share.” Even though he’s ducking his head and trying not to face them, Jiang Cheng’s wistful shadow of a smile is visible from where Jin Ling is sitting. “The only time she ever ate them was during her pregnancy.”
“What? Why?” Jing Ling is surprised by her own inquiry. She realizes now she’s leaning forward in her seat from anticipation.
“Of course she would,” Wei-qianbei chuckles. “It was one of her cravings, wasn’t it?”
“Your parents hadn’t told anyone yet, but I knew it the moment I saw the peels in her quarters. In the end, she hated them even more because it was all you made her eat for weeks.”
Now her uncle is teasing her, a pointed side glance and a smirk betraying Jiang Cheng’s amusement. Jin Ling sputters completely at a loss for words and not knowing how to react to that. Before she can continue gaping like a fish, Wei-qianbei’s impish voice grabs her attention.
“What do you think, Lingling, do you have strong feelings about peaches?”
“No? They’re okay, I guess.”
Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng exchange a look not unlike a ke ago, but there’s a difference this time —their eyes seem to glint with amusement. Jin Ling can’t believe that all it takes for these two to stop acting like dumb idiots is the opportunity to join forces in mocking her. On her own birthday.
She hates her elders.
(Belatedly, she’ll admit that this small glimpse of what their past relationship was like made something in her chest swell with emotion. She’ll never say that out loud, though.)
“Say, Jiang Cheng, do you remember how she used to hide from her own maids?”
“You’re kidding.”
“Meishan Yu women have always been accompanied by a twin set of warriors. Both your waipo and your nainai had theirs by their sides until they died.”
Jiang Cheng’s statement doesn’t tell her anything new. The history of the Meishan Yu clan was drilled into her at a young age by her nainai, which is precisely why she’s so surprised by her mother avoiding them. What she chooses to focus in is in her uncle’s detached tone as he says this particular piece of information, and the way that Wei-qianbei rubs his nose when he hears him.
“Shijie hated theirs,” Wei Wuxian adds, his voice in a trained unaffected tone that betrays how affected he actually is by whatever he’s reminiscing. “They always nagged her about her training, so she had to hide on the kitchen, or—”
“—the infirmary,” Jiang Cheng finishes and then continues, not without swallowing down hard. “All the skills she learned in that time she applied during the war.”
A-Niang had been there with them? Out of everything that she’s heard so far this night, this is what shocks her the most. So, she asks them as much.
”She went to war with you? Why?”
Jin Ling had always heard talk about her mother’s soft disposition. Some of her cousins had unkindly referred to her as frail and weak, even, just to taunt her and compare them in an attempt to discredit her Jin lineage when they were younger.
“She was too stubborn for her own good, insisted on coming to the front,” Jiang Cheng tsked, turning around in place to lean back on the railings around the pond.
“Shijie said the three of us had to stick together,” adds Wei Wuxian.
The wetness in his eyes could pass as a trick of the light. But then, her uncle clears his throat too and ducks his head in an uncharacteristic gesture. Jin Ling can’t hep feeling a bit guilty again.
“In just a few months, she was managing the camp,” Jiang Cheng explains, “directing communications with other parts of the front, and making sure things ran smoothly while cooking and tending to the wounded on the daily. We stood no chance without her work.”
She feels breathless for a moment. Knowing this helps her have a fuller picture of what kind of woman Jiang Yanli was. It also angers her that nobody ever talked about it, that nobody ever thought to acknowledge her hard work during the war. She hadn’t even thought before that those tasks would have been necessary in a war, let alone essential.
A brief glimpse of Jin Guangyao crosses her mind. She remembers how adept his xiao shushu was at that same type of work and wonders what kind of relationship he could have had with her mother. If only things had been different.
Then, she remembers that if things had been different, maybe she would have grown with her parents at her side and—
Stop. She doesn’t want to go there. Least of all today of all days.
Instead, she scrambles for some type of reaction to what she has just learned of her mother. All she can muster is a dazed exclamation, a sigh and a muttering stating that her mother was amazing indeed.
“Told ya.” Wei-qianbei bumps their shoulders playfully before getting Chenqing out to twirl it in his hands.
There’s a brief bout of quiet that they spend staring at the pond, watching the sway of the remaining lone blossom in the breeze. It feels ages away from the charged silence that they had when her uncle had just arrived and just like before, it is Jiang Cheng who breaks it.
“Your father built this pond for her with his own hands.”
“I… I didn’t know that.”
“He did a passable job,” Jiang Cheng scoffs. From any other person, Jin Ling would have taken it as a sign of contempt. She knows by the tilt of his eyes that it’s actually something closer to fondness. “Correcting his work in time for the wedding after the suddenly renewed betrothal drove the poor gardeners up the wall.”
“Renewed?” she asks, brows raised to the hairline.
Wei Wuxian lets out an inelegant snort that doesn’t help the befuddlement that Jin Ling feels. It takes Wei-qianbei turning to look at her with a smug look that clearly says I told you so for her to understand what her uncle’s words mean.
“The peacock fumbled so hard all his previous attempts at getting her attention,” he explains, rubbing Chenqin’s tassle between his fingers. “Shijie loved him so much it was painful, and he kept messing it up. I figure if he did this for her, it was what finally won her over?”
She’s not sure whether it’s a rhetorical question, but her uncle does something akin to a nod, duking and turning his head to the side with a scoff as he crosses his arms. Does that mean Wei-qianbei wasn’t here to see that? Her skin itches with curiosity. She knows better than to prod and risk causing another fight between them.
“Punching some sense into him was the only good thing to come out of those lectures.”
“Wait, you had to punch A-Die?”
Out of the corner of her eyes, Jin Ling can see that Wei Wuxian has lifted his head almost as quick as she does when they hear her uncle speak. Is he as surprised as she is by the prospect of Jiang Cheng punching Jin Ling’s father?
Her uncle levels her with a glare. Jiang Cheng doesn’t even need to speak the “don’t be stupid” into words before he turns to look at Wei Wuxian, who lets out a nervous laugh and looks extremely embarrassed by the thought. So not his uncle, but his weird uncle-adjacent was the one who punched his father. Okay. This still changes her whole perspective of his parents’ relationship.
Jin Ling’s thoughts feel like the tumbling twirl of the water in the depths of the river back at Lotus Pier. They’re a disorganized mess of feelings and realizations as she tries to pierce together everything that she has just learnt with what she already knew.
Jiang Yanli was a gentle, kind soul, people have always said. They said she died after barrelling through the middle of a battle just to approach the Yilin Laozu, even though she believed him guilty of killing her husband.
She was sly and could be as impish as Wei-qianbei himself. She was the one to raise her uncle and Wei-qianbei. She defended and protected her loved ones fiercely. Jin Ling knows this to be typical of all of Yunmeng Jiang.
She was determined to work for the Sect’s wellbeing and to not be left behind. She was sickly and had a weak golden core. She was hardworking. She could have stayed sheltered and safe, but she had the mind for running a war camp and put it to use. Probably a sect too.
She had known to stood for herself and accept a betrothal only when she felt it was good enough for her. She was seen by many as a fragile, unassuming woman that had managed to capture the Jin heir’s affections.
“Alright, I think you got enough of us talking,” her uncle states as an underhanded way of saying that he is running out of patience to keep talking about this.
Jiang Cheng doesn’t wait for them to stand up before turning to walk back inside, ushering her to do the same while he grumbles about the increasingly cold air and how she needs to go to sleep soon, because he doesn’t care that she’s a Sect Leader now, she’s still her niece for him to nag. He doesn’t say this last part, Jin Ling simply knows it to be true.
When they get up and follow behind her uncle, Wei Wuxian wraps an arm around her shoulders. He’s ducking his head in her direction in a conspirational gesture, then he starts pulling faces at what her uncle is saying, forcing her to bite her lips to smother her laughs. (Maybe she is more drunk than she thought, if she’s letting Wei-qianbei do this. It has to be the alcohol.)
And Jin Ling, still reflecting on everything she’s learnt today, realizes that maybe, her mother —Jiang Yanli— was so full of love because it was all around her. Looking at the two only remaining people alive that were close to her, Jin Ling wonders if the tugging at the strings of her heart that she feels now might be another thing she shares with her.