Work Text:
Just before dawn, I watch A-Huan rise from his bed. He is sleep-rumpled and unguarded, and my heart swells with fondness.
He is a good man, my A-Huan. Despite the challenges he has faced in his life, he remains, at his core, a person of unmatched kindness.
Our morning goes much as I expect; he has a routine, and I wait, content, as he cleans his face and teeth, dresses, and approaches me. His fingers are gentle as he carries me to the bronzed mirror over his dressing table, and it is but the work of a moment to center me carefully on his forehead and secure me in his hair.
He is tucking a hairpin into his guan when there is a soft knock at the door. A brief flicker of surprise crosses his face, but he quickly stands, the gravity of Lan-zongzhu settling over his shoulders. We cross the room, and he opens the door.
"Ah, Wangji. Good morning," he says, and I attempt to curtail my excitement. While A-Huan is my favorite person, Didi is a close second.
"Shufu requested our presence at breakfast," Didi says, and this pleases me so greatly I allow my loose ends to lift and twirl slightly.
"In the dining hall, or his quarters?" A-Huan steps back inside long enough to retrieve Shuoyue, then sets off along the path with Didi. With their attention diverted, I quickly wave to Didi's ribbon.
Though we cannot speak, I can feel the fond exasperation at my excitability. I assume I will be ignored, as a lesson and reminder to behave with dignity, but as A-Huan and Didi converse quietly, their steps measured, I feel a light caress, and realize Didi's ribbon is slowly settling back to his hair.
A ribbon cannot smile, but if I could, it would be so bright as to be blinding.
-
While breakfast with Didi and Shufu is all well and good, it also provides a rough outline of my problem. At the conclusion of the meal, Didi's husband comes to collect him, and a gaggle of young Lan disciples pour through the door seeking Shufu's counsel on an upcoming nighthunt. A-Huan bids them all a pleasant farewell, and heads to his study alone.
While A-Huan treasures his relationships with his family—as do I—he is terribly lonely. He shoulders many responsibilities, and since the loss of his sworn brothers, he has allowed no one else close enough to truly know him. Does he not deserve a companion to love him and offer quiet comfort?
I am but one ribbon, and, as I cannot speak, I am limited in how much I can do. For nearly three years now, I have been gravely considering this issue, hoping against hope that perhaps Didi or Shufu will step in and make it clear to A-Huan that he should cultivate closer relationships with others.
These Lans, though! So reserved, so reticent, so concerned with propriety and afraid to overstep! I know they see it, but refuse to speak up, as if their righteous concern would not be welcome.
Though, if I am honest with myself, it likely wouldn't be welcome. A-Huan is a pleasant, easy-going sort, but keeps himself set apart quite thoroughly, even from his family. For a brief time, just after his exit from seclusion, I believed that the loud man Didi married would effect some change, as he seemed to be the only one willing to acknowledge the issue at all, but A-Huan politely—and firmly—rebuffed him each time.
A pity. I was so hopeful.
Because of this, I have been backed into a corner. I can expect no help from outside, no savior to swoop in and rescue A-Huan from himself. It will have to be me.
Fortunately, I know my A-Huan better than he knows himself, having been his constant companion for approximately forty years now. And it does not hurt that he reveals far more of his thoughts and motivations when he is alone.
I have at least a basic understanding of the kind of people with whom A-Huan enjoys speaking, and even whom he would like to take to bed. (Charmingly, these are often the same people.)
Today is the day I put my plan into action. Cloud Recesses is absolutely overflowing with cultivators, here for one of those boring things they call 'conferences', and I am determined. I will find A-Huan a companion—I swear it on my embroidered cloud stitching.
-
The official greetings seem endless, as do the individual sect reports each sect leader makes to herald the beginning of the conference. A-Huan glances toward the chief cultivator now and again, perhaps wishing he would speed things along.
I consider him, this fan-wielding xiandu. Pretty, which A-Huan decidedly likes. Capable, though he hides it well. Perhaps… But no. They've not been comfortable in each other's presence since the temple, and I can hardly fault either of them for that. They have a long history together, and, in hindsight, much of it was based on falsehoods.
Not that one, then. I scan the room and bide my time. After what seems an eternity, everyone is released to rest and socialize before the dinner banquet. I will not get a better opportunity today, as A-Huan is typically placed at the head of the dining hall with his family during the meal, and afterward, everyone retires to their own rooms.
Luckily, A-Huan stands and begins making his way around the room, tendering more personal greetings to the various leaders and disciples present. A thrill of excitement runs through my silky length as a woman approaches; I've had my eye on this one.
"Lan-zongzhu," she says, her smile wide and warm. She attempts to bow, and A-Huan carefully grasps her forearms, lifting.
"None of that," he says. What a silly man.
"It was kind of you to extend an invitation to us," she continues, gesturing to the man standing at her side. "It is quite new, for rogue cultivators to be welcomed at a sect conference like this."
Her body language is attentive but comfortable, and A-Huan seems relaxed and open as well. Perfect. I carefully stretch one trailing side of myself, undulating gently to mimic being swept by the wind, and allow the very end of my embroidered length to brush her cheek.
A-Huan gasps, the woman's eyes widen, and even though he viciously tugs me down and presses me to his hair, I bask in my sense of victory. I've done it!
"Luo-guniang!" A-Huan cries, dipping into a bow far too low for his station. "My most sincere apologies to you and your husband!"
Husband? My cheer deflates like a punctured waterskin. I hadn't realized she was already spoken for. Tense, I search her expression, but she seems more bewildered than offended.
"Please, Lan-zongzhu. Accidents happen." She's eyeing me with a healthy dose of suspicion, and I lie as still as possible, knowing I deserve it. "I find it difficult to believe such things have not occasionally occurred over the years, with all these ribbons flying around in the wind."
If I could speak, I would assure her they do not. Pah! As if we allow ourselves to float about willy-nilly, tangling in others' garments or getting stuck in mouths!
"Of course. Luo-guniang is truly kind, to be so understanding." I tune out their small talk, brooding. Why did I not think of this? Just because my A-Huan is alone does not mean all others are similarly situated. I ponder this as A-Huan continues his way through the crowd.
I may be forced to adjust my plan of attack. Is there anyone I am certain is unattached? My attention snaps to the man standing silently in the corner of the room, his eyes down as if he is trying to avoid people's gazes while Didi's husband chatters at his side.
It is a recent change, that the fierce corpse is allowed within Cloud Recesses proper, and A-Huan had fought most ardently with the Lan elders to secure his welcome. I like him, this undead man. He is gentle, quiet, and his manners are above reproach. He and A-Huan do not often have opportunity to speak with one another, but surely that is a matter of circumstance, and not due to any particular effort on either of their parts.
And, I am certain he has no lovers. Excellent. Though I have no real way to force A-Huan to go over—
"Lan-zongzhu," I hear from behind, and as A-Huan turns, I see a man decked out in violet, his broad shoulders parting the crowd as he approaches. Ah. This is an exceptionally fortuitous turn of events.
A-Huan likes the zongzhu of the Jiang very much, if his private nighttime habits are any indicator. And he is yet another one I can be certain is unattached, as Didi's husband wails about his lack of a wife constantly. While I am not sure how a wife would 'soothe his temperament' or 'convince him to relax', it hardly matters; A-Huan has always enjoyed a… spirited man.
I wrestle down my memories of Mingjue-ge, studying Jiang-zongzhu's garments while the two men speak. It seems Yao-zongzhu is stirring up trouble again, and Jiang-zongzhu would like A-Huan's support in settling the matter.
That's good; it likely means A-Huan will be spending more time with him one-on-one. They lean their heads closer together, speaking in hushed tones, and it gives me the perfect view of the embroidery on Jiang-zongzhu's outer robe.
Striking work, if I do say so myself, and as my own embroidery is of the highest quality, I feel comfortable setting forth my opinion as true. The silk is fine as well; I wouldn't be surprised to learn it came from Gusu. The man always dresses well, and I know A-Huan has noticed this.
While I am a bit apprehensive, considering the disaster of my last attempt, I cannot lose heart. Clearly, A-Huan intends to make no moves of his own, despite the way Jiang-zongzhu keeps darting glances at him through his eyelashes.
I gather my courage and stretch out, wanting to feel that lovely embroidery with my own. Mm, it is just as soft and smooth as I expected. Fascinated, I wind myself around the man's forearm, luxuriating in the feeling.
"Then I'll look forward to your assistance," Jiang-zongzhu says.
"You shall have it," A-Huan promises, and they straighten, putting more distance between them. Or rather, they try.
I realize my mistake immediately, but it is too late; Jiang-zongzhu's arm jerks upward, A-Huan's neck yanking to a stop at an uncomfortable angle.
"What—" Brow furrowing, Jiang-zongzhu cuts himself off, staring at my length around his arm as if he bit into a baozi and found a snake inside.
"Oh, not again!" A-Huan quickly tears me from Jiang-zongzhu's arm, but ah, what is this? Never have I seen two grown men blush so vividly!
Silence falls. I lie quiescent in A-Huan's hand, apparently forgotten. They stare at each other as if everyone else in the room has disappeared. Jiang-zongzhu clears his throat, taking a half-step backward.
"If you'll excuse me," he says, spinning on his heel, and strides out of the hall, his robes whipping at his ankles. A-Huan blinks, then his eyebrows pinch together and he gives me a long, searching look.
"I must be imagining things," he whispers, then makes for the door himself. Conflicted, I stew in my thoughts as we sweep into the courtyard.
It was never my intention to give A-Huan reason to doubt his senses; I simply have no other way to help. Still, I would not call this a failure. They certainly hadn't seemed to mind staring into one another's eyes, and A-Huan's cheekbones are still pink.
"Oh, Xichen-ge!" Didi's husband says, appearing out of nowhere with the gentle undead man beside him. Perfect; it seems I shall have one last opportunity today. I stretch, loosening myself to ripple prettily in the breeze, and head for corpse-gongzi's hair.