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Chapter Text

Prologue

Pomegranate Festival – June

The pomegranate flowers of the Xia residence were in full bloom. Countless flowers lavished the courtyards with their bright petals that shone like orange-red stars from between the dark green leaves of the trees. The sweet aroma of the blossoms wafted through the air, and the sound of pollinators busy at work added to the lazy, early summer mood. Under the shade of a large magnolia tree, Xia Gongmin sat watching his niece run around chasing butterflies barefoot, her long pigtails whipping behind her like ribbons as she jumped and twirled.

“Jiujiu, look!” she squealed, running up to him with her hands cupped.

“What do you have, A-Luo? Have you caught a butterfly?” he asked, his gaze soft.

“Mn-hm!” she exclaimed, holding out her tiny hands so he could see. He leaned forward just as she opened her hands to let a small powder-blue butterfly flutter up and away between them. It hovered for a moment around the orange and cream flowers that decorated her hair, touching them only briefly before flying away to vanish into the blue summer sky. Xia Luo watched it disappear, her eyes bright and gleaming.

“Well done, A-Luo. You were very gentle and did not hurt it,” Xia Gongmin praised.

Approaching with silent steps, Xia Shunchao came to sit beside him. She dismissed her daughter and watched her passively. Apparently, the beauty of the day would not elicit feelings of warmth and motherly affection from her.

“She’s five years old now,” she remarked. Xia Gongmin kept silent beside her. “Don’t you think she’s getting a bit too old for flowers and frivolous activities like this?” she asked. In the courtyard, Xia Luo had pulled her fan out and was mimicking the flying birds and insects all around her, though she remained careful not to disturb them from their work. Ever so gently, she moved through a martial flow that should have disrupted the air around her but hardly succeeded in ruffling the flowers in her own hair. At all the points the fan would have moved the air with its sweeping motion, she turned it to instead cut effortless arcs through the air that caught the sunlight and threw it in flashing glares across the courtyard.

“I don’t see what’s so frivolous,” Xia Gongmin said. “She’s training, isn’t she?”

Xia Shunchao looked at her brother, her eyes narrowing. “It’s not the training I take issue with, A-Min, it’s the nature of it. She thinks it’s all a game. She thinks she can be gentle.”

“Why can’t she? You said it yourself, she’s five,” Xia Gongmin replied, his voice betraying a bit of anger.

“You baby her more than I do,” Xia Shunchao said, shaking her head. “She’s old enough that these moments will be full-fledged memories later on. It won’t serve her to remember these kinds of things. This is not the kind of training she needs. We agreed on this five years ago. You’re the one who’s been dragging his feet, and I’m letting you know it needs to change.”

“So you didn’t bring this up for discussion,” Xia Gongmin said. He already knew the answer. “Why have you indulged her until now, then? Isn’t that cruel?” he asked, looking at his younger sister. The sound of Xia Luo’s laughter punctuated his question.

Xia Shunchao sighed. “I wasn’t indulging her, gege.” She stood up, then said, “I was indulging you.” Xia Gongmin started, shock highlighted on his face. “The way you melted after she was born and we made our agreement—how could I have taken that away from you immediately? I decided it would be best to give you a chance to enjoy something from the secret you would be keeping. Judging by how you’ve treated her these years, I wasn’t wrong. But now, you can gain the satisfaction of having a direct hand in shaping her future. Tell me, Gongmin, how is that cruel?”

Xia Gongmin was silent. He watched his sister walk out to his niece, her tall form stopping just before the small figure in burnt orange. Seeing that glowing face turn upwards to match the brightness of the sun, he couldn’t help but sink into his chair just a little. Ever since he had found out about his sister’s pregnancy, he had understood the role he would have to play. But, when the child was born and she grew into a lovely, darling little girl who was eager to learn and to please, that understanding had slipped into the background, paled by his affection. Despite his sister’s actions, he couldn’t hold any of it against the child, and he had come to love her like a daughter, and that had been his mistake. He had known all along that Xia Luo would grow up to play the part of a boy, but now that the moment had come, he still felt betrayed and like he was betraying that little girl who loved ribbons and flowers. He couldn’t help but think that if Xia Shunchao had truly cared about his feelings, she wouldn’t have pushed them to this point of transition at all. It would have been better if they had never, either of them, known the joys of girlhood, either personally or as a spectator and guardian.

That night, while the people of the town celebrated the Festival of Pomegranates, Xia Gongmin went to his room to offer incense to Nie Mingjue in forgiveness for his complicity. I am doing this for her, my lord, so she can have the best chance at a good life , he told himself and the spirit of his former clan leader. I will ensure that she makes you proud . From his chamber, he could hear Xia Luo crying in bewilderment as her mother had the maids remove her pretty robes and ribbons and replace them with simple training robes in the Xia family colors. In the morning, he would find that the only material good she possessed from before the purge was a golden-bronze-colored hair ribbon that she would tie into her hair from that day onward.

____________

Xia Shunchao Distinguishes Women’s Work From Work

“A-Luo,” Xia Shunchao called. The child shut her fan and walked over, golden-bronze ribbon fluttering in the air.

“Yes, Muqin,” said Xia Luo as she sheathed her fan into her sleeves and brought her feet together to stand at attention. She was still a little girl, but the purples and grays of her robes that recalled the violet cuckoos that were the Xia family sigil made her appear less youthful. The dark collar of the inner robe was too stark against her childishly round cheeks, and the purple was simply too heavy a color for a young child. Even still, Xia Luo’s eyes were bright as she looked up into her mother’s face. They were inquisitive eyes, eyes that took in everything around them and that asked a hundred questions all at once.

“We will be starting some new lessons today,” Xia Shunchao explained. “You have been doing good work with your training, but there are other things you must learn as well.” Xia Shunchao took in the look of excitement on her daughter’s face. “Up until now, you have learned only the work for which you are responsible. Today, you will begin taking part in women’s work. This will include cooking, sewing, dancing, and other such womanly skills.”

“Mother,” said Xia Luo, her steps quick as she kept up with the tall woman’s stride, “will I be dressing like the women, too?”

“No, there’s no need for that. You are a student of cultivation, not a woman to be kept in the home, A-Luo,” Xia Shunchao responded, hardly sparing a look at the girl. “If you want to keep that ribbon of yours, you won’t ask me again about dressing like the women. You are not one of them. Am I understood?” At this, she looked down at the child beside her, her gaze hard.

For a child who had hardly left the grounds of her family’s estate but had seen the female servants coming and going through the gates at all hours of the day, Xia Luo hardly understood what her mother really meant. To her, it appeared that she was the one kept at home, and not the other way around. What she did understand, however, was the threat of losing something special to her. Xia Luo clutched at her long hair and the ribbon that tied it back and nodded in earnest.

“Good,” her mother said. “Now, then, we will begin in the kitchen.”

* * * * *

Dinner that night came in the form of a simple soup with savory meat-filled wantons. Chopped green onions floated in the broth, and the steam swirling from each bowl carried with it the enticing aroma. Beside her uncle, Xia Luo happily chattered away about how she had learned how to make the wonton wrappers, how to prep the filling, and how to stuff each wonton before putting them away to be steamed. She paused only to blow on her spoonful of soup briefly before eating it, then continued with her tale of culinary adventures.

Xia Gongmin smiled at his niece, but these days, it always felt like a thorn was pricking him when he saw her expressing her excitement and joy at the things she likely would never get to do for a family of her own. It wasn’t that he thought cultivation was necessarily a man’s pursuit alone, but there was something to be said about the more gentle arts of the women and the women that pursued those arts as their principal occupation. His own late wife had been a wonderful cook. Heavens knew she had passed too soon.

“Xia Luo, eat your food,” her mother scolded. “Do not brag about such simple tasks as cooking. Women’s work ought to be done well, or it ought not to be done at all.”

Xia Gongmin frowned and saw Xia Luo lower her spoon. He was about to speak when she spoke up instead.

“What if someone can’t cook well? Wouldn’t they starve if they didn’t cook at all?” asked Xia

Xia Shunchao scoffed. “For a woman who cooks poorly, she might as well starve.”

Xia Gongmin turned a sharp look on his sister. “Her first time cooking a meal, and this is how you instruct her?” he asked, his voice carrying more than a hint of his displeasure.

“What do you mean?” his sister responded.

“It’s ok, Jiujiu,” reassured Xia Luo, her warm eyes fixing him in their gaze. “I’ll make sure I learn to cook well so all my meals are good. No one will starve if I’m in the kitchen.” She said this in earnest, a small smile on her lips as she reached out to touch his hand to comfort him. “But I won’t put it before my real lessons,” she added, “don’t worry, Muqin.”

“I’m not worried at all, A-Luo. I know you will excel,” Xia Shunchao said, and popped a wanton in her mouth.

* * * * *

“She’s a girl, Shunchao, it’s a simple fact! You can’t raise her up thinking she won’t grow to become a woman,” Xia Gongmin whispered angrily in Xia Shunchao’s private chamber.

“You seem to be forgetting the agreement you made, A-Min. This was your deal, remember?” Xia Shunchao replied.

“That may be so, but it was your … your…”

“My, my, what? Spit it out,” Xia Shunchao prodded.

“It was your ambition, your delusion, your perverseness that got us here!” he said, his face screwed up in disgust.

“Hah!” Xia Shunchao laughed, “all these years later, and you still can’t say it. A-Min, you’ve softened. Xia Luo isn’t your child; she’s not here to replace the children you never had, so get rid of your own delusion. You made this deal, gege, so you had better see it through.” Candles flickered between them, their flames catching in Xia Shunchao’s dark eyes.

Xia Gongmin clenched his fists. “How dare you,” he said through gritted teeth, “don’t you dare bring her into this.” He took a few deep breaths to compose himself, but Xia Shunchao wasn’t finished.

Xia “Luo isn’t a consolation prize, gege, not for you, and not for me. Do you think I’m happy with the situation?” she asked, spreading her hands before her as though making an offering. “This isn’t what I wanted, either. We’re just a widow and widower trying to make it by in this world —” she said, but was cut off by her brother’s angry finger jabbing her in the chest.

“You were never married!” he hissed, the old warrior’s fury blazing across his face. “You tricked him, you took advantage of him, and you still pretend you did nothing wrong! You’re no widow, Shunchao, and if I could go back I would —”

“What?” Xia Shunchao interrupted, her eyes glittering. “What would you do, gege? Throw me onto the street? Kill the infant? Expose me to everyone? No! You couldn’t do any of those things. You would do exactly what you did, which is to play your role, make a deal, and then live with it. Because,” she continued, brushing his hand away, “you will live with it. If you want Xia Luo to have any chance in this world, you will not only live with it, but you will honor it.”

“Don’t talk to me about honor,” Xia Gongmin growled, pushing past his sister. It looked as though the candles flickered for a moment, as though a wind had whipped through and sent the flames all sputtering before returning as they had been. The next words his sister spoke were addressed to his back as he stood in the doorway before leaving.

“Gongmin, I think it would be best if you distanced yourself from Xia Luo. For your own sake.” 

The door shut to Xia Shunchao’s chamber before the last word had settled.

____________

Qingming Festival

The Xia residence was located in a prime location not far from the Nie Clan capital. It was far enough from the main bustle of the city that it felt peaceful and secluded, yet close enough that going between the two places was not a major inconvenience. For Xia Gongmin, the location couldn’t have been better. When he had been younger and still training in cultivation and politics, the estate had provided a sanctuary for him to return to. When he made a name for himself and entered the political scene as the personal advisor to Nie Mingjue, the estate became a place of influence and pride. That influence then caught the attention of a young woman from a well-to-do family, and she succeeded in getting his attention in return. They were wed, and the Xia estate became a place of ever increasing joy. But nothing good lasts forever, and his young wife passed away before they had any children. Thankfully, Xia Gongmin’s younger sister had been around to help him with the estate, and together they carried on.

Distraught at his wife’s untimely death, Xia Gongmin made it known that he was not interested in seeking a new wife and directed his attention entirely to serving Nie Mingjue. An accomplished saber wielder himself, he was by Nie Mingjue’s side through the highs of the Sunshot Campaign and then through the Siege of the Burial Mounds, and he continued to stay by his side even as his lord’s temper became increasingly unpredictable and violent. During the last year of Nie Mingjue’s life, perhaps due to the clan leader’s deteriorating mental stability, the two became a bit distanced. However, Xia Gongmin had spent years with the clan leader, so when his death was announced, he understandably took it very hard.

Every year since Nie Mingjue’s passing, Xia Gongmin would travel to the capital to attend the Qingming Festival for the Nie Clan ancestors with Xia Luo by his side before returning to sweep the graves of his own family cemetery. In the capital, those who wanted to pay their respects to the departed Nie Clan leaders could take part in the tomb-sweeping ritual in front of the ceremonial tomb. The leaders weren’t actually buried there, but it was a way for the common people to access their spirits and provide offerings of joss paper and incense.

After Xia Luo turned one year old, her uncle had begun taking her along with him for the festival, and this year was no different. She waved to her mother who stood at the front gates to the estate with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Won’t Muqin come with us this year?” she asked her uncle as she finished waving and turned back around.

“No, you know she doesn’t like to go,” Xia Gongmin replied.

“Is it because she didn’t like Chifeng-zun?” she asked.

“No, nothing like that,” he replied, taking her small hand in his, his expression unreadable. Xia Luo hummed to herself and didn’t say anything else. She was enjoying the warmth of the day and the firm grasp of her uncle’s hand, and in a way she was also happy that it was only the two of them making the trip to the capital. In a small bag at her side she carried the joss paper and incense for their offerings, and she felt pleased that her uncle trusted her with that responsibility.

“Jiujiu, what was it like being Chifeng-zun’s advisor?” she asked. She had grown up hearing all about this great clan leader’s prowess on the battlefield and his terrifying strength and skill with the saber, and she never grew tired of hearing about how her uncle had gotten to work with such a man.

Xia Gongmin smiled and gave her hand a small squeeze. “It was difficult,” he said. “I’ve told you about his temper and how it made him a hard man to reason with. When he set his mind to something, there was little chance of changing it. My job was to present the matter in a way that best served the situation before he could choose right or wrong.”

Xia Luo wrinkled her nose. “Isn’t a leader supposed to decide between right and wrong?” she asked.

Her uncle chuckled. “Yes, but there are usually more possibilities to consider than simply right and wrong. Most of the time, there is not a wholly right way to go about something.” He looked down at his niece. “It’s important to consider the space in between right and wrong, A-

“Mn,” she said, kicking her feet out in front of her in an exaggerated way as she walked.

Observing her, Xia Gongmin reached down and rubbed between her brows. “What are you thinking? I can see thoughts brewing right here,” he said, and she laughed.

“You can’t see my thoughts!”

“Oh yes, I can. You set your brow and scowl ever so slightly,” he said, smiling. It had been a while since he had been alone with her outside of the calligraphy and swordsmanship lessons his sister had entrusted him with, and the interaction was refreshing. His sister gave her daughter little time away from her lessons to spend time as she pleased, so he took advantage of this opportunity to be with her.

“Jiujiu,” Xia Luo said, her arm swinging back and forth as she held his hand, “is it wrong that Muqin doesn’t go to the ceremony?”

“Mm, remember what I told you just now? That there is not often a wholly right answer? It is also the case that it is not wholly wrong for your mother to be absent from the ceremony. She makes her choices, and besides, she’s busy with preparations for the rest of our family’s ceremony.”

Xia Luo hummed to herself again but seemed content with the answer she was given, and the two continued their journey into the capital.

* * * * *

The two made their way through the capital streets past vendors selling sweeping cloths, incense, fruit, and all manner of ceremony-related items. The streets were busy this time of morning with people purchasing last-minute items and chattering to one another on this collective holiday. Xia Luo walked close to her uncle, though he no longer held her hand. His stride was long, so she had to take quick steps to keep up with him.

All around her were the smells of street food sizzling and roasting, each one smelling better than the previous one as she felt herself grow hungry. She didn’t dare ask her uncle to stop, however, so she tagged along closer and told herself she could ask after the ceremony.

Once at the ceremonial tomb, the two Xia family members positioned themselves within the crowd. One by one the people recognized Xia Gongmin and bowed to him out of respect, stepping aside to trade places with him. Bit by bit, the two found themselves standing at the front of the gathering, the whispers about Xia Gongmin’s bravery and expert advising swirling behind them. Xia Luo felt proud that her uncle was such a well-known man, though she didn’t fully understand the scope of what holding such prominence truly meant. If it meant that people simply thought well of her uncle, then that was good enough for her,

In front of them, the head of the ceremony took their place and called over the crowd to silence them before beginning to read out the speech honoring the deceased Nie family members. As he read, other members of the organizing committee for the ceremony lit the first of the incense and burned joss paper. They echoed the head of the ceremony’s prayers and cued the crowd to echo them as well. Since Nie Mingjue had been the last Nie family member to die, extra time was spent honoring him by recounting his deeds and rulership over the clan during his lifetime. Before the marshall could finish, one of the committee members holding the joss paper out to burn let out a yell.

There was black smoke billowing up from the incense burners, and the small braziers where the members were offering the joss paper blazed up before snuffing themselves out. 

The crowd panicked and began to shove. People were crying out about how this was a bad omen, and that they would receive bad luck. No one was looking beyond the smoke, and if it hadn’t been for Xia Luo bending down to pick up the satchel she had dropped out of surprise, she wouldn’t have seen the broom-wielding figure dancing behind the tomb.

“Jiujiu, there’s someone back there!” she yelled, and without a second to spare, Xia Gongmin had pulled his saber and whirled toward the tomb in silence. Xia Luo watched anxiously as the glare of her uncle’s saber slashed the air, visible even through the thick smoke that was still swirling around in front of the tomb. When she looked closer at the smoke, however, she noticed something strange about it. If she squinted it almost looked as though the smoke had a human form that was continuously billowing apart before coming back together.

People were running amok and the ceremony conductors were busy choking on the smoke of the spirit, and no one besides her uncle was doing anything to help the situation. Xia Luo knew that you were not supposed to use a broom to sweep an altar, and given that this tomb was a stand-in for the real graves, it was as much an altar as any other. Although she was able to piece together that someone had snuck behind the tomb to sweep a broom over it and released a spirit, she couldn’t have guessed why someone would do such a thing.

“Jiujiu!” she yelled, “there’s a spirit here!” No sooner had the words left her mouth, the spirit turned to face her, even though it didn’t have any proper face to speak of. Her blood froze and her spine went stiff as she realized her mistake. The spirit shot towards her, its arms continuously reforming as it reached out to grab her. Without thinking, Xia Luo swung the satchel of joss paper and incense right at the spirit’s face.

An unholy sound ripped through the air as the satchel made contact and exploded into flames. The spirit had seemed eager and opportunistic before, but now it was angry and had its sights set on Xia Luo. Shielding her face against the flames with her fan, Xia Luo stepped backwards just out of reach of the angry spirit. It wasn’t just a mass of smoke now; there were little flames sparking here and there throughout its billowing form, and its arms didn’t so much as roll towards her like clouds, but jolt and jerk instead. Gritting her teeth, she was about to swipe out with her fan, but the sight of a looming shadow made her brace herself where she stood. Just as the spirit’s fingers were about to grab her by the neck, her uncle’s saber slashed through the smokey form and rent it to nothing. She was swept up into his arms before she could even draw a proper breath.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, worry etched all across his face. Xia Luo shook her head, but then tears welled up in her eyes. “It’s alright,” he said, moving his bloody saber out of her view.

Xia Luo shook her head again before responding. “The joss paper and incense,” she said in a small voice, “it’s gone.” She felt terrible. Her uncle had trusted her to hold onto those items for the ceremony, but all of them had been destroyed.

“Did you see that? That little kid hit the spirit with a bag!”

“Yeah, and it went up in flames!”

“Huh, wouldn’t every cultivator want a kid like that? I mean, if you’re raised by Xia Gongmin…”

Xia Gongmin stood silent for a moment to register what Xia Luo and the others had said, then he chuckled. “Don’t worry, Xia Luo, you did the right thing. You helped take down that spirit.”

“But our offerings are gone,” she said, one fat tear rolling down her cheek.

“I think,” replied Xia Gongmin with a regal air, “that Chifeng-zun would be even more honored by your bravery and quick action.” Around him, multiple people nodded and voiced their agreement, and a few even came up to share their offerings with them. “You see, A-Luo? Good deeds will bring good things. Now,” he added, setting her back down, “let’s bring forth our offerings.”

With a quick swipe of his hand, Xia Gongmin wiped his blade clean. With one more motion, his bloody hand was also left clean and he stowed his saber away on his back. Then, at the sight of Xia Gongmin and Xia Luo lighting their incense before holding it out before them and bowing low, the crowd and the ceremony officials alike regrouped and continued on.

____________

Two Sides of the Estate

The final notes of a hulusi floated through the air, the resonant tones arching and branching out like bamboo leaves on a scroll drawn with ink and brush by a master painter. Silence hung suspended as the notes faded, and even the grasshoppers sat still for a moment, as though appreciating the sound before resuming their own chirruping song. Summer at the Xia estate meant taking things slowly and seeking refuge in the cool inner chambers, but it certainly did not mean that Xia Luo was given the opportunity to languish.

The teacher in charge of her music lessons nodded their approval and Xia Luo didn’t waste a moment in giving them a bow before dashing from the cool music hall and out to the training courtyard at the other end of the estate.

Although the young Xia Luo adored training with her hulusi, she was even more eager to learn to wield the sword given to her for her one-month celebration. Where the former brought peace and tranquility, the latter allowed her to channel her more turbulent energies. It wasn’t that the growing Xia Luo had uncontrollable moods, just that she had a lot of energy that needed to be expended regularly lest she become restless. She had an active disposition that needed constant honing just as a weapon needed to be treated to the whetstone to maintain its razor edge. Her sword, however, held its bite exceptionally well without additional honing, which is where it got its name.

Yongyao seemed to never dull. Despite this, Xia Gongmin had his niece practice the art of sharpening a blade regardless. “You never know when you might require the alliance of a blade besides your own,” he would often say, “and you must honor it by maintaining it.”

When she was younger, Xia Gongmin would have her train with Yongyao by holding it over her head or out in front of her while doing squats and other such exercises. He would make her run the perimeter of the estate with the blade balanced across her shoulders or held overhead. Once she had mastered handstands, he would place the blade on the flats of her feet to measure her balance. Whatever Xia Luo did in physical training before she was strong enough to wield the sword still involved it in some way. “You need to earn the trust of your weapon, even before you have formed your golden core,” her uncle told her.

Now that she had formed her golden core at the age of eleven, she still worked Yongyao into her training even when a sword wouldn’t normally be involved. Today, she ran to the shade of the magnolia tree in the courtyard and quickly inverted herself after having skillfully balanced the sword on one foot. In one swift motion, she straightened out and caught up Yongyao with her other foot to have it settle neatly across the soles of both feet. She had practiced this movement so many times that she felt she could do it in her sleep. 

Xia Gongmin found her a few minutes later when he stepped out of the coolness of the interior halls to begin their daily lesson.“Warmed up yet?” he asked, looking at the upside down Xia Luo.

“I would be even if I weren’t upside down, Jiujiu. It’s so hot out today,” she replied, sweat already beading across her forehead.

Xia Gongmin gave a small snort. “Let’s begin, then.”

Back under the full blaze of the summer sun, Xia Gongmin drew his saber and faced his niece. With a fluid motion powered by decades of practice and experience, he settled into a stance and began leading a set of drills that Xia Luo eagerly mirrored. She emulated not only his steadfast and grounded footwork but his slightly furrowed brow as well. Although she was still just a child, her years of training had built up the strength needed to wield the heavy, bronze-colored sword. Unlike the slender, elegant swords of most cultivators, Yongyao was broader and thus possessed more heft than most cultivator swords; the blade appeared to be a sword forged with the inspiration of a saber behind it.

In the sunlight, Yongyao gleamed a muted gold, its sword glare still weak as Xia Luo nurtured and grew her golden core. As she progressed in her cultivation, no doubt this strange blade would take on a brilliant glare as it responded to her will; but for now, she worked under her uncle’s encouragement that she would no doubt become perfect partners with her weapon.

“Stay low to the ground, Xia Luo,” Xia Gongmin corrected, his saber flicking towards her to tap her shoulder until she lowered properly. “Do not cut corners in your drills.”

“I’m sorry, Jiujiu,” she said, her brows furrowing deeper as she concentrated harder. She never cut corners in her training, and she hated being accused of doing it. She stayed low as they glided across the ground, their feet hardly brushing the dirt as they padded silently to and fro, their sword and saber cutting smooth arcs through the air.

Although the Nie Clan was known for their saber techniques, Xia Luo had been gifted a sword instead. The real reason was unknown to her, but Xia Gongmin and her mother maintained that it had been given to her by her father. Xia Luo had a theory that her father had been someone from a different clan, which was why Yongyao was neither a saber nor a typical sword, but her mother refused to speak on the matter. Either way, the Nie Clan practiced saber techniques, so that was how her uncle taught her.

Two-handed and powerful, saber drills and techniques required strength and a certain level of channeled aggression to correctly execute. It had taken Xia Gongmin some time to coax his niece into striking at him with her full strength during training; Xia Luo had only acquiesced after Xia Gongmin assured her that she wasn’t going to hurt him and that it was important for her future fights that she learn to strike without reserve. “Your opponents will not give you the chance for a second hit if you allow them to walk away after the first,” he would remind her whenever she would slacken her blows.

Today, uncle and niece looked like two prowling tigers, coiled and ready to strike, their blades like a tiger’s lashing tail. Both were sweating profusely from the heat of the day and from the exertion and focus they put into their work. “Never do anything halfway” was something else Xia Gongmin regularly told his niece, and Xia Luo did not require another correction for the rest of the lesson.

“Well done, A-Luo,” praised Xia Gongmin as he wiped his forehead. “Let us retire for the day, or at least until your mother summons you again.” Before they had even made it to the magnolia tree, Xia Shunchao called out from a doorway.

“A-Luo, go bathe and meet me for your lesson in women’s work. Go quickly,” Xia Shunchao said. “I brought a guest to teach you today.”

Xia Gongmin threw a momentary glance his sister’s way before turning away and scowling, his brows knitting together in irritation. Eleven years in and he still couldn’t help but grumble “ if only” in his head. If only.

* * * * *

Xia Luo bowed to her uncle, rushed to wash and change, then stowed Yongyao on her back before making her way to her mother’s wing of the estate. It held an array of birdcages with the family’s violet cuckoos trilling and preening within them. Pretty purple lanterns hung from the branches of different fruit trees within the courtyard here, and a koi pond sat nestled serenely under the shade of a large katsura tree. In the autumn when the fallen katsura leaves started to decay, this courtyard would smell the strongest of brown sugar and caramel, though the scent would waft all across the Xia estate.

Xia Luo found her mother sitting with an older woman who was dressed in family colors she was unfamiliar with. Truth be told, Xia Luo was quite ignorant of the colors of the local families in general, since she was only taught to recognize the colors and uniforms of the major cultivation clans. She also spent little time outside of the estate. Her mother told her the colors of the major clans were the only ones that mattered, and thus the only ones she ought to bother herself with. Seeing as this woman was not from one of the families whose colors she recognized, Xia Luo took her time removing Yongyao from her back and setting it down before approaching the two women at the tables they occupied. From the corner of her eye she saw her mother tip her chin up just a hair in a nearly imperceptible gesture of approval.

“Madam Feng, this is my daughter, Xia Luo. A-Luo, this is Madam Feng, a great teacher of etiquette and ceremony.”

“I hear you are eleven years old now,” said Madam Feng. “Your mother tells me that it is your uncle who trains you in most things, and so your knowledge of the womanly arts has been neglected.”

Xia Luo nodded without hesitation, but in her head she thought that wasn’t right at all. I only have a few lessons with Jiujiu, otherwise I’m with Mother all day. She didn’t overthink it, however, figuring her mother had a reason for telling this woman what she did.

“Well, then, it’s high time you be formally introduced to the etiquette befitting a young person like yourself. You don’t want to find yourself in an embarrassing position later on because you weren’t properly taught your manners as a child.” With that, Xia Shunchao took a seat further back and watched Madam Feng instruct her daughter in the ways of polite society, an impassive look on her face. If Xia Luo had looked closely, she might have thought her mother looked somewhat smug, as though she felt she was sitting in a place of superiority compared to the woman she had invited over. But Xia Luo didn’t look closely, and even if she had, she wouldn’t have thought this look was any different than the look her mother gave most people when they weren’t looking at her.

“When proffering up something, whether it be a cup of tea, a gift, or even a simple item, one should offer it with both hands. Offering with one hand,” said Madam Feng, physically demonstrating, “is terribly rude, especially when the recipient is someone of an equal or higher status than yourself. Likewise, it is good manners to accept the item with both hands, should both hands be available.” Xia Luo reached out with both hands to accept the tea cup being held out to her, and she couldn’t help but wonder if this woman thought she had grown up completely unversed in etiquette.

Both Muqin and Jiujiu have taught me plenty about how to behave, she thought. Next she’ll be telling me how to add a little bow into the gesture to really make it proper .

Sure enough, Madam Feng soon had her bowing at various degrees depending on the scenario she named and acted out. She sighed to herself, her mind wandering as she did to the sword resting on the narrow table by the door. Most anything would be preferable to sitting in here with this stuffy woman who droned on about how to sit, stand, bow, kneel, and even blink. It took some effort on Xia Luo’s part not to scoff.

“Now, as pertains to couples,” Madam Feng continued as she picked up the tea tray, “it is a sign of deep respect to offer something by raising it up to the level of one’s eyes. In return, the recipient should receive the item by accepting it at eye level as well.” Despite their height difference, Xia Luo reached up to take the tea tray, brought it to her own eye level, offered a small bow with her head, and took the tray from Madam Feng’s hands. She complimented her performance and then continued on with other tedious scenarios of giving and receiving.

Finally, when the sun was well past its zenith in the summer sky, Xia Shunchao bid Madam Feng farewell and they saw her out. Once the woman was gone and Xia Shunchao had her daughter to herself once more, she asked her about what she thought of the lesson.

“It feels like the women are always the ones bowing, no matter the situation,” said Xia Luo. In her hand she flashed open and closed a bronze-bladed fan. “Do female cultivators have to do that, too?”

Xia Shunchao smiled. “Female cultivators might have more say than non-cultivators, but they are still women. Tell me, A-Luo, do you want to bow?”

Xia Luo found the question a bit strange, so she gave it some thought before answering. “Everyone bows,” she said, “but I don’t want to have to bow to everyone.” She snapped her fan shut again.

“And so you won’t, my dear. Keep training, and one day you will find that there will be those who bow to you,” promised Xia Shunchao, her dark eyes glittering. Although Xia Luo still didn’t understand what she meant, she could tell that her mother was pleased. Given how difficult a task that was to accomplish, she kept her mouth shut and let her mother place a slightly possessive hand on her shoulder. As long as she wasn’t making Xia Luo run laps or do handstands as punishment for some small thing, then Xia Luo was content to let her feel or think whatever she wanted. Besides, what young child training to be a cultivator didn’t like the idea of being strong enough to be worth bowing to one day?

____________

Dumplings in Town

Xia Luo ran with skidding steps through the estate, her purple robes whipping around her legs as she tried to tie her belt on properly without slowing down. Maids pressed themselves against the walls as the whirlwind of purple flew past them; no apology was uttered and none of the maids expected one.

“I’m not so sure what they think they’re doing with that child,” said one maid to her companion, “but it won’t lead to any good.”

“Shh, don’t say things like that,” her companion censured her.

“Really, though,” said another who was carrying fresh linens, “to be honest, it’s mostly the mother —”

“Are you trying to get fired? Just keep that up and you will be!” said the same companion who had shushed the first maid. “Whatever you think about that child and her upbringing should stay in your own head.” The other maids pouted, but she changed the subject and carried on with her work.

Xia Luo pulled up short of a doorway, reigned in her breathing, straightened her robes, and stepped out.

“Xia Luo, you look a mess!” Xia Shunchao snapped. “You there, come over here! Fix this,” she said to a maid who came hurrying over to straighten the Xia Luo’s hair and clothing. “You pester me for a month straight to take you out and you still have the nerve to make me wait on you. I raised you better than this,” she griped.

“My sword lesson went long,” the Xia Luo began, but Xia Shunchao wasn’t listening.

“Look at you, what a wreck! Do you want people to see you and wonder how you were raised? Do you want people to think I’m a terrible mother?” she asked while urging the maid to hurry.

“You’re not a terrible mother,” Xia Luo said, standing tall before Xia Shunchao. The last few years had seen Xia Luo grow like a bamboo stalk. Long legs and arms that would have looked awkward and lanky on someone without the intense physical training she had grown up performing looked almost distinguished on her, though she still couldn’t shake the air that came with being a young teenager. Youths of this age always looked somewhat awkward as their bodies tried to keep up with the growth they were undergoing, though a good bit of it was mitigated by the robes Xia Shunchao picked for her daughter.

Rather than the higher-waisted, flowy robes many girls wore, Xia Luo wore instead an outfit more befitting of a boy in training. Given the way she had been raised and her sparse interaction with other youths her age, Xia Luo saw nothing strange in this whatsoever. With her hair tied up in a bun and only a few braids to dress it up besides the bronze ribbon tied into it, she looked very much like a sweet-faced boy. Since she had been told to leave her sword behind for this outing, she kept her fan tucked within the leather vambrace on her left forearm. Calf-length boots with lightly curled toes rounded out the look, and once the maid had finished settling the hair that framed her face, Xia Shunchao finally seemed less agitated.

“Out,” she said, and they exited the estate, the maid following close behind the two.

Today the pair took the path to town rather than the capital. Xia Shunchao was talking at the maid about the shops they would need to visit and the orders they would need to make. Xia Luo’s fifteenth birthday was coming up soon and her mother insisted that everything be ready in time for it.

“We can’t forget anything,” she said over her shoulder to the maid who nodded and kept a mental note of everything her mistress said. It would not do to disappoint Xia Shunchao and be the reason Xia Luo’s birthday celebration wasn’t perfect.

Xia Luo on the other hand didn’t care too much for the fuss her mother was making about her birthday. To her it was just another year, just another day. Today was what mattered to her, because today she was out of the estate and her world suddenly felt bigger. Everywhere she looked was a treat to the eyes; here a fruit seller, there a merchant with toys for children, and elsewhere a group of street musicians. Xia Luo had indeed asked her mother multiple times to be able to join her on this excursion into town just so she could see something outside of the walls of the estate. Besides the Night Hunts she had started going on with her uncle for training, she had little chance to stretch her legs beyond the estate’s boundaries. Though large, she still felt terribly confined within its limits.

“A-Luo, this way,” her mother called, nearly dragging her away from the toy vendor. Xia Luo huffed and followed her mother into the first shop where she was stood up on a small platform to be measured for new robes. Her mother bragged to the tailor that Xia Luo had grown even within this past month, and the tailor was quick to respond with their own compliments.

“Such is the way with these young cultivation masters, you know. Once they start growing, they just don't seem to stop. Why, he’ll be taller than you in no time, madam, if he isn't already!” The tailor patted Xia Luo on the back and walked off to get some fabric samples under Xia Shunchao’s direction for the colors she was interested in. Xia Luo stood silently on the platform wondering why the tailor had referred to her with masculine terms, but her mind quickly drifted to the thought of street food vendors and the tasty treats she wanted to try. Her uncle had given her some money in secret and she had full intentions to spend it.

“A-Luo, are you listening?” her mother’s voice cut into her daydream. “You asked to come with me, so keep your mind present,” she chided. “Which style do you prefer?” she asked, indicating three options the tailor had pulled out. “Those won’t be the colors, but which cut do you prefer? I like this one,” she added, looking like she was going to move on without waiting for Xia Luo’s answer.

“I like the one in the middle,” Xia Luo said, taking her mother by surprise.

“Ah, the young master has good taste! As do you, my lady, but it’s no wonder a young warrior would lean towards this design,” the tailor said, lauding Xia Luo’s choice. “Here, try it on over your robes to get a feel for it,” he said. “Look, it accentuates the shoulders and helps broaden the chest, though by the looks of it, you’ve got that covered on your own!” The tailor laughed and went looking for a suitable belt to go with the open-fronted overcoat.

Xia Luo wondered for the second time why the tailor still thought she was a boy and ventured a look in the mirror. The person who looked back at her was the same person she was used to seeing; a tall, sturdy, fit individual with a dark brow on a sun-kissed face. She hadn’t yet grown into her height, nor had she even come close to developing anything that could be considered a womanly figure. Her mother didn’t give her any more time to observe herself before she stepped in and tugged at the collar of the overcoat to forcefully reposition it.

“Yes, this cut could work,” she said, catching Xia Luo’s startled glance in her own brief stare, her jaw set as though she was ready to fight. That look quickly turned to a pert little smile when the tailor returned with a fine belt.

“There is room to add whatever decoration or emblem you like on the front here, if something like that is to your liking,” he said. “It’s modeled after the military fashions. You know how the men are; even the ones who aren’t warriors like to dress as though they are!”

“Yes, they do, don’t they,” Xia Shunchao said, her voice crisp even though she was smiling. “Xia Luo, go outside and wait by the entrance. I will settle the order here.”

Xia Luo handed back the overcoat to the tailor and stepped outside, her brow furrowed. It wasn’t as though she had hoped for a good day out with her mother, but she couldn’t help but feel as though her mother was becoming more and more difficult to please. She sighed, but being used to this kind of behavior, she pushed away the mood before it could fully settle over her. The maid who had accompanied them out stood silently off to the side watching the crowd going about their business, and Xia Luo recognized her as one of her mother’s personal maids. She was a plain woman nearing her thirties, and Xia Luo knew her to be dependable and constant, just what her mother liked in her servants. She wasn’t interesting in the least, though, so Xia Luo didn’t waste any more attention on her.

In the street, children ran around with ribbons tied to sticks, pretending they were dragons flying in the air. They laughed and shouted as they made the colorful ribbons dance around them in looping figures. Xia Luo had played the same game as a small child, but she had played it alone, and the only laugh she had heard besides her own was her uncle’s when he would come out to see what she was up to. A group of boys her age were scuffling about further up the street when a shopkeeper stepped out and shooed them away from the entrance to their shop.

“Keep your hollering to your own front yards!” the shopkeep shouted at the boys who had taken off in a laughing gaggle to get up to their antics elsewhere. In contrast to their loud presence, couples walked side by side up and down the street, entered and exited shops, and stopped to look at the various stalls and booths to see what goods were being offered while talking softly between themselves.

Xia Luo watched them all with an almost hollow expression until the sound of whispering and giggling caught her attention. She had been standing tall and straight in front of the shop for some time now and the sight of her had caught the attention of a group of teenage girls. She turned her head to look at them and saw them all put their hands over their mouths as they began to titter excitedly to one another. They looked to be from average families, judging by their simple attire, but the sight of them still held Xia Luo’s attention.

When had Xia Luo last seen girls her own age? She couldn’t recall, but when she heard the giggling grow louder and saw the blush overtake the girls’ cheeks as one waved at her she felt her own face flush. She looked down and frowned, her face growing hot at the sound of the girls’ laughter and heightened chatter.

“He’s really cute…” said one girl, her voice cut off by another whispering quite loudly that she shouldn’t say something so forward.

“Ooh, do you think he’s a cultivation disciple?” asked another, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of Xia Luo’s robes.

“He’s gotta be, looking like that!” another girl chirped. “He looks so strong,” she said, and the others started giggling anew.

Xia Luo stared at her boots, her expression hidden behind her lowered lashes, though there was no hiding the intense blush that colored her cheeks. She didn’t look up again until the sound of them died down, but when she looked up she still caught the furtive glance of one girl who had looked back at the same time. The girl said something to her friends and they all turned to look at once and burst out into laughter once more.

“Oh, he’s blushing!” Xia Luo heard them say before they shoved gently at one another to hurry away down the street. She barely had time to feel the full extent of the heat that flushed her face and neck before her mother’s voice swept it all away like the lapping tides of a lake.

“What’s going on?” Xia Shunchao said, stepping out of the shop. She handed a receipt to the maid and turned to her daughter. “Why are you red in the face?” she demanded.

“Someone made a crass joke and I happened to overhear it,” Xia Luo said without skipping a beat. Her mother humphed and started to walk away. Xia Luo took the opportunity to shoot a glare at the maid daring her to say anything to her mother, but the maid wasn’t looking at her at all. Feeling the after-effects of the blush on her cheeks, Xia Luo stepped away from the shop and followed her mother.

What had those girls meant, looking at her like that? Something about it felt off to her, like it shouldn’t have been her they were whispering about. Why did they think she was a boy? Sure, she wasn’t wearing the same flowy robes they had on, but she was a cultivator in training. Her clothes weren’t boys’ clothes, they were just practical and suited to the work she did on a daily basis. She didn’t spend her day doing women’s work like they no doubt did, so it only made sense she would be dressed differently. She shook her head to clear it and kept on after her mother, though a funny feeling rested at the bottom of her stomach.

“Maybe I should have taken you out more,” Xia Shunchao commented, looking at her daughter sideways. “You’re too distractible in public settings.” Xia Luo kept her mouth shut. “Anyway, let’s go to that shop over there. You need new boots.”

Xia Luo thought her boots were perfectly fine, but it wasn’t worth mentioning to her mother. Whatever her mother said was law as far as her mother was concerned, though Xia Luo thought that was a bit ironic given the things she would spout about women in general. More and more often Xia Luo would think to herself that her mother was something of a hypocrite, condemning women to a lower status while continuing to do the things she said women ought not to do. To be honest, it had left Xia Luo increasingly confused about what exactly was expected of herself, but without much outside interaction, the real need to clarify her place in society had never had the chance to surface fully. There had been times when it came close, but in the end the discussion was never openly had. Thus far, it had been much simpler for Xia Luo to simply go along with whatever her mother wanted since it also typically meant she avoided punishment.

After the boot shop came a string of other shops along with a string of rebukes by Xia Shunchao before she had finally had enough. It seemed Xia Luo hadn’t been able to clear her head as well as she needed to.

“Xia Luo!” she said, her voice sharp. “Where is your head today? I have had to repeat myself countless times and still your mind wanders. Wait outside, and when I finish here, I had better not have to tell you to come along.” With that, Xia Shunchao strode into a shop with her maid following close behind. Xia Luo caught the sideways glance the maid shot her and glowered back. The memory of the girls whispering about her behind their hands brought color to her cheeks once more, but the maid had already walked away.

Xia Luo grumbled to herself, her jaw clenched and lips pressed in a tight line. She took some deep breaths, however, and consoled herself with the realization that she was now alone. She swept a look over the food vendors in her immediate area and absentmindedly jingled the coins in her money pouch that Xia Gongmin had given her. If she got nothing else out of this day, she was going to get something tasty to eat, no matter what the punishment might be afterwards. This was something she had never gotten to do outside of a festival day, so she was determined. Her mother could insist that everything they had purchased today was for her, but Xia Luo wasn’t interested in any of it. She wanted the experience of being out in town like the other townsfolk, and that meant buying street food and eating it out in public.

With only a perfunctory glance over her shoulder at the shop her mother had gone into, she walked into the middle of the street and let her nose guide her. If there was one thing her mother had taught her well it was how to recognize good food from the smell. Appearance mattered, of course, but if it smelled good it was sure to taste good. Her time in the kitchen with her mother had taught her to appreciate fresh ingredients and complex flavor profiles, but there was one food that could win her heart over even against the most exquisite of dishes meant for the emperor himself. Pork dumplings.

It didn’t matter what time of day it was, if one were to ask Xia Luo what she would like to eat she would always answer with “pork dumplings”. Although pork wontons were the first dish she had learned to make, it was pork dumplings that took the prize. More than anything at this moment, Xia Luo wanted to taste dumplings as they were made and sold by the street vendors. She didn’t have to search for long before she spotted a vendor in their stall with a sign that advertised dumplings among other dishes.

“Young master, right this way! I see you have a keen eye for the finer things, for you won’t find finer fare than right here at this vendor’s humble stall! What can I get for you?” the stall owner called, his face cheery and bright.

“Young master?” Xia Luo echoed under her breath.

“What’ll it be? We’ve got all kinds of tasty things, all made fresh! See there, that’s my wife,” he said, gesturing behind him to a woman chopping green onions. The woman nodded at Xia Luo with a smile.

“What are you smiling at?” the vendor joked with his wife.

“He’s a charmer, that’s all,” the woman said, her smile growing bigger. “I remember when ours was that young.”

“Ah, women, always being nostalgic! I’m glad our son is big and grown. It means I don’t have to give him free meals!” he said with a burst of laughter. “I’m just kidding! So, what’ll it be?”

Xia Luo felt the words stuck in her throat for a moment before she managed to get them out. “Do you have pork dumplings?”

“Sure we do! Give ‘em a few minutes and they’ll be ready. I’ll get your change in the meantime,” he said and continued to chatter away, partially with Xia Luo and partially with his wife.

Why do people keep calling me “young master”? Is it really what I’m wearing? I don’t get i​t , Xia Luo thought to herself. When she looked down and saw the change returned to her by the vendor she realized she couldn’t recall pulling money out from her money pouch.

“You alright, young’un?” asked the vendor. He peered at Luo with his head cocked to the side as his wife approached with the parcel of dumplings in her hands. “You really do need to eat, huh? You seem a little light-headed.”

“Mn, I’m okay,” she said, reaching out for the parcel. Before her fingers could touch the wrapper a scream ripped through the air. She spun around and saw a woman backed against the wall of a shop, a strange boar creature pawing the ground in front of her. Without a second thought Xia Luo took off towards the beast, her mind whirring as she tried to piece it together. The creature was certainly like a boar, but it was also not entirely a boar. Noticing that the shadows on the ground had become faint, she looked up to see that the sky had turned gray during the time she was waiting for her dumplings. It’s a yao beast , she thought.

Yao beasts were often accompanied by inexplicable sounds, changes in weather, or bizarre actions among other things. Given the sudden change in the sky and the unnatural appearance of the boar in addition to the strange aura it was giving off, Xia Luo could be quite certain it was a yao beast. As to why it had appeared so suddenly in a populated street in the middle of town, she had no idea.

Distracted by menacing the woman it had cornered, the yao beast didn’t notice the swift-footed youth approaching it. People had run and hid when they saw the beast, all except for two men who approached the beast with brooms held as weapons. They had begun to taunt and jeer at the beast to turn its attention away from the woman, and while their efforts were successful, they clearly hadn’t thought about what to do when the yao beast made them its target instead.

“Oh, god, its face!” one of the men yelled as he tripped over his feet in his attempt to back away. Thanks to the man’s clumsy interference, when the yao beast had turned to look at him it also saw Xia Luo coming for it.

Silently cursing this turn of bad luck, Xia Luo whipped her fan out of her vambrace and began a set of whirling spins as she continued straight towards the boar. As she lashed out with a blast of wind from her fan she saw what had made the man yell and fall over himself; where a boar’s front legs and head should have been were the long arms and terrifying grimace of a monkey.

With its fangs bared it dodged the blast at the last moment and then lunged at Xia Luo, its jaw snapping viciously. All around them the townspeople called encouragement from their hiding places and offered advice on how Xia Luo should move next against the beast.

“You got it, young master! Show it who’s boss!” one person called out.

“Hit it in the head! Aim for the head!” someone yelled.

“Do a jump attack!” said another.

“Someone get the lad a real weapon!” shouted yet another.

A real weapon? Xia Luo thought, her brows knitting together. This fan is a real weapon! With a grunt, she channeled her spiritual power into the fan and scooped up as much air as she could before spinning it around her head to hone it like a blade. With one swing, two swings, and a third swing to compress the gathered air, she lunged forward and swung out once more at the beast like a farmer wielding a scythe. This time, the screeching yao beast couldn’t clear out in time; the sweep of the fan was too wide and the scythe made of air was too long. With a sickening, blood curdling scream the yao beast was cleaved in half and blood splattered in a wide arc across the street.

For a brief moment everything was still and quiet, but then cheers erupted from the townspeople as they came pouring out into the street to crowd around Xia

“That was amazing!” someone said, clapping Xia Luo on the shoulder.

“Did you see that? He killed it with a fan !” said another, their voice absolutely giddy with excitement.

“Young master, what house are you from? Tell us!”

“Yes, tell us what family you’re from!” The people all clamored around her to find out what house’s young master had vanquished the monkey-boar yao beast and cleared the gray skies.

“Um, the Xia household,” she said. Even if she had wanted to say more she wouldn’t have been able to. The people all exclaimed as though they should have known this young master was from the Xia family and left no room for her to continue speaking.

“Leave it to Nie Mingjue’s right hand man, Xia Gongmin, to raise such a kid! We’ve got a great cultivator in the making right here!” a man yelled. With that, the people continued their merry-making which was quickly taken advantage of by the street vendors. Shouts of “buy one get one half off in honor of the young cultivator!” rang out from various stalls and even shopkeepers stepped outside to join in the opportunity to wrangle in customers high on adrenaline and victory.

The woman who had been cornered by the yao beast approached Xia Luo and bashfully pressed something into her hand. The object was still warm and when she looked down she realized with a start that it was a small jade pendant the woman had been wearing close to her chest. “The beauty of jade is like the virtue of a gentleman”; the saying echoed in her head and she quickly stuffed the token into her belt. Heart racing from the fight, she looked down at the yao beast’s carcass and then at her fan. She had never managed such a powerful move before, not even when on Night Hunts with her uncle. A feeling welled up in her chest, but it was suppressed immediately upon seeing her mother standing in the middle of the street outside the shop she had been in.

She had an unreadable look on her face, and despite the townspeople running up to her to congratulate her on having such a wonderful young person in her household, she continued to look at Xia Luo with unblinking eyes.

“Uh, excuse me, young master?” came a tentative voice. Had it not been for her mother shifting her gaze to the person behind her, Xia Luo probably would not have turned around at all. “You ran off without your dumplings. Given what you just did for us all, we made a fresh batch and wanted to give them to you, no charge! It’s the least we can do.” It was the street vendor from earlier, and he was holding a parcel of hot pork dumplings in his hands.

“Thank you,” Xia Luo replied, reaching out reflexively to accept the gift.

“Of course!” the vendor said, his eyes full of smiles, the tentative edge in his voice gone. “That was really impressive what you did back there! Make sure to eat well, now, you hear? You have to keep up your strength if you’re going to keep on that cultivation path.” He bowed to Xia Luo and Xia Shunchao, then took his leave to return to his stall.

Xia Luo stood there with the parcel steaming in her hands, not daring to look at her mother. A gentle hand on her shoulder broke her stillness, her mother’s voice also gentle in her ear as she said, “Come away. It appears you have some dumplings to eat.”

Incredulous, Xia Luo looked at her mother’s face and was shocked. On Xia Shunchao’s face was the most genuine smile Xia Luo could have imagined. She couldn’t remember the last time her mother had been this pleased with her. Behind them the maid carried the day’s receipts and smaller purchases, a serene look on her face as she followed the pair back to the estate.

“Pork dumplings, he said? You’ll have to tell me if they’re any good,” her mother said.

In the face of her mother’s obvious support of her actions that day, Xia Luo forgot to attend to the concerning question of where the yao beast had come from and why it had shown up in a populated place in the middle of the day.

Chapter Text

The night before Xia Luo’s fifteenth birthday, she could hear her mother and uncle arguing fiercely in Xia Gongmin’s quarters. Any other time she might have got up and snuck over to catch just enough of the argument to make sense of the subject, but she was in no mood tonight. She had gone through the day harboring low spirits and an ominous feeling in her stomach that had led to a proper stomach ache that herbal teas hadn’t relieved. She had tried everything to shake the feeling, but neither sword, fan, nor hulusi practice had helped, and she was left grumpy and dejected. She couldn’t help but feel as though the energy of the day was somehow premonitory, and she had a slight sense of dread upon thinking of the upcoming day. She should have been excited, but with all her mother’s planning and fussing, her upcoming birthday celebration was less than a pleasant thought.

Maybe I’m just dreading this celebration , she thought. Maybe I just want it to be over and that’s why I feel this way . She couldn’t think of why her birthday would make her so uneasy, though, and she ended up just huffing in frustration.

With nothing else to do and with the rising and falling of her mother and uncle’s voices in her ears, Xia Luo got into bed and wished herself to sleep. The faster tomorrow came, the faster this unwelcome air would pass.

In the morning, Xia Luo went about her usual routine, got dressed in the new robes the maid delivered as a gift from her mother, and made her way into the main hall. There, Xia Gongmin stood to greet her with a broad smile, his arms held out to welcome her in an embrace.

“A-Luo, I can see you’ve grown since yesterday,” he said, measuring her height with his hand. “Keep growing like this and you’ll outgrow even me.”

“I doubt I could ever be as tall as you, Jiujiu,” replied Xia Luo, brushing back the hair that framed her face after returning his embrace.

“You’ve grown taller than your mother by quite a bit, and she’s not a short woman herself,” Xia Gongmin said as he ruffled the hair Xia Luo had just fixed up. “Now, what are these? Did your mother buy you new robes again?” he asked, looking her over.

“You know how she is, Jiujiu, though she’s been more enthusiastic ever since the yao beast incident in town,” Xia Luo said.

Ever since Xia Luo had taken down the yao beast a few weeks prior, Xia Shunchao had been especially chirpy and involved in Xia Luo’s daily activities, even going so far as to come and watch Xia Luo and Xia Gongmin’s sword lessons, much to the latter’s chagrin. Even Xia Luo had come to find the attention very taxing and wearisome; it felt like she was always performing and had no time to decompress.

“Mn,” Xia Gongmin agreed, and Xia Luo felt relieved to catch the displeasure in his tone. “Well, let us enjoy some morning movements before your mother takes away the rest of the day.”

During their session, Xia Luo took the opportunity to observe her uncle. Watching this large man brush his arms through the air and skim his feet over the ground like he was a slow, methodical ox moving through a field brought up complicated feelings in Xia Luo’s chest. She could remember when she was little how this man had often picked her up and flown her through the air, how his laugh would carry on the wind and set her heart beating faster. As she got older, however, those moments became less frequent, and instead of lifting her up, there were times she almost felt quashed beneath his presence. There was, of course, the knowledge that relationships and dynamics changed as one grew, but there was something about the way her uncle acted that didn’t feel right.

Xia Luo got the sense that their changing dynamic was not something her uncle wanted. Even now, watching him, it was as though there was something restraining him.

“A-Luo!” her mother’s crisp voice cut through her meditation, and while her movements continued to finish the flow, her thoughts were spilled all over the ground. Despite herself, she scoffed under her breath in irritation and was surprised to hear the same sound come from Xia Gongmin as well. “A-Luo, breakfast. Min-gege, you know we had plans this morning, why are you keeping her? Come along, there’s much to do today.” Xia Luo took in her mother’s meaningful look before the woman swept away with a swirl of her sleeves.

“It’s just a birthday,” said Xia Luo in a low voice. When she looked at her uncle she was caught off guard by his dark expression. He walked out of the courtyard without a word, his jaw clenched.

What did they fight about last night , she wondered as she watched his broad back disappear through a doorway. He clearly hasn't let it go.

As it turned out, Xia Shunchao’s plans for the morning were little more than a family breakfast featuring some foods that symbolized good fortune. The three of them hardly ate anything, and no one said much at all. Xia Shunchao seemed distracted, Xia Gongmin was clearly agitated, and Xia Luo herself was caught up in daze wondering why her mother even bothered with her birthday at all. It wasn’t as if Xia Luo had any expectations for the day.

In previous years, Xia Shunchao attended to very little in the way of celebrations while Xia Gongmin had been left to hold up the air of cheer as best as he could. It had been alright while she was still very young, but birthdays became more and more difficult to bear the older she got. Her uncle had always been the first to greet her on her birthday, however, and at least that had been something that hadn’t changed. It was this small consistency that kept Xia Luo grounded until later in the day when Xia Shunchao called her into her own chambers.

“A-Luo, come and sit down. I have your gifts,” she said, gesturing to a cushion on the floor. Xia Luo took a seat and politely accepted the packages brought in by the maids. She opened them one by one, unwrapping and then setting the contents aside in neat piles with a ‘thanks’ for each one. There was a new set of robes made of fine linen and silk in a dark gray-green color embellished with bronze details, as well as a pair of boots with slightly curled toes in soft leather the color of charcoal. The robes were in the style she had chosen when she had last gone into town with her mother, though the boots were entirely of her mother’s choosing. There was also a fine belt with bronze accents, a pair of new vambraces, and lastly, in a small velvet box, a beautiful golden-bronze top-knot accessory with accompanying hair stick.

Xia Luo was more than surprised to see the array of beautiful gifts her mother had chosen for her but felt like they didn’t match the tone of the day. Even while she had been opening the gifts her mother had sat and watched almost impatiently for her to finish. Sure enough, as soon as Xia Luo had thanked her mother for the last of the gifts, Xia Shunchao was already talking about something else. Xia Luo set the hair accessories aside with a stifled sigh, settled herself properly on the cushion, and did her best to give her mother her full attention.

“When a young person such as yourself turns fifteen,” Xia Shunchao said, “it is customary that they receive a haircut from their parents to mark their coming of age.” Xia Luo had to think for a moment to recall Madam Feng’s lessons in etiquette and ceremony. She could vaguely remember the woman talking about the different ceremonies and ages at which they occurred for boys and girls to mark out various points in their life, including those related to one’s coming of age. This hair cutting one her mother was talking about must have been one of them.

“Let your hair down,” she ordered, pulling out a lovely comb and pair of scissors from her dresser. Xia Luo had no choice but to untie her hair that had been knotted securely to the top of her head and let it fall down her back.

While her mother combed and continued to talk about the meaning behind the hair cutting ceremony, Xia Luo sat with her golden-bronze ribbon held in her hands down by her lap. The ends of the ribbon had been trimmed numerous times over the last ten years to get rid of the fraying edges, and despite Xia Shunchao’s offers to replace it, Xia Luo had stubbornly refused time and again.

“Tip your head down, A-Luo. I need to trim the ends of your hair,” her mother said. Kneeling beside her daughter, Xia Shunchao ran the comb dipped in rice water through her hair to dampen and smooth it out. Even when damp, Xia Luo’s hair held its characteristic reddish hue with its deeper undertones, not unlike the brindled ox she was named after. Once the ends were trimmed, she was instructed to look straight ahead as her mother came to kneel in front of her.

“I’ve had the idea of giving you a bit of a different cut for some time now,” Xia Shunchao said, the comb already sectioning off the hair at the front of Xia Luo’s head. She added more rice water to the hair and combed it through until it was perfectly straight, then raised the gleaming scissors. Before Xia Luo could make sense of what was happening, long locks of hair fell across her vision before falling still in her lap. Oblivious to her daughter’s shock, Xia Shunchao continued cutting and trimming, using the comb to smooth and then her fingers to fluff the hair that now rested at brow-length across Xia Luo’s forehead. Working quickly, she cut the hair that sat in front of Xia Luo’s ears to barely chest length before sitting back to observe her work.

“What have you done,” said Xia Luo, her voice coming out pinched.

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” said Xia Shunchao as she passed a mirror over for Xia Luo to see herself in. “There needed to be some visible change in order for the ceremony to make sense, after all. Besides, this suits you. Look how well your hair frames your face now.”

The face that looked back at Xia Luo was certainly her own, but it was also a face with an expression that looked bewildered and betrayed. Clothes and shoes were one thing, but not having any say in the cutting of her hair was another matter entirely. Xia Shunchao, once again, took no notice.

“Now, let’s see,” said Xia Shunchao, peering around the mirror. “Xia Luo, put that down, I can’t see,” she snapped not a moment later. Xia Luo numbly did as she was asked. “Mm, yes, I think that will do. Pass me the hair pin.” She gathered up a section of hair at the crown of Xia Luo’s head and made a perfect topknot before securing the small, crown-like accessory around it with the hair pin. She didn’t remember to ask after the golden-bronze ribbon still grasped in Xia Luo’s hands.

“Yes, that will do,” she said, pleased with her work. “Alright, go entertain yourself for a bit. I have some other things to prepare for this evening. You won’t be disappointed,” Xia Shunchao added as she stood up, replaced the comb and scissors, and called for her maid. She glanced back at the still-kneeling Xia Luo. “A-Luo, get up. You have hair on your new robes. Shake it off so the maid can clean up. Hurry.”

Xia Luo could feel a lump forming in her throat. Swallowing hard, she stood up, brushed herself off, and hurried from her mother’s room. Her steps became quicker and heavier as she put distance between herself and her mother, and the lump grew bigger as well. By the time she made it back to the central courtyard she was choking on air as she tried to fill her lungs and keep the tears that had started to well up in her eyes from falling. Ignoring the curious looks from the servants going about their business, she crouched on the ground under the magnolia tree and drew in ragged breaths. More than anything else, she just couldn’t understand her mother’s actions and how little she seemed to care about her feelings.

“A-Luo, what’s wrong?” From above her, Xia Gongmin’s voice fell over her like a heavy blanket. He lay a gentle hand on her shoulder. “What did your mother do?”

Xia Luo drew in a sharp breath, wiped her sleeves over her eyes, and was about to stand when her uncle crouched down instead. She wasn't surprised by the action, but it still gave her pause. Slowly, she lifted her head to look him in the face as she willed her eyes to dry. It wouldn’t do to cry in front of Xia Gongmin.

Xia Gongmin’s eyes went wide at the sight of his niece. Her expression that was trying to be tough was reflected in his own eyes that were darkened by a veil of sadness. Tenderly, he reached out and placed his hand atop her head, his fingers brushing the hair decoration at the crown of her head. He closed his eyes and stayed like that for some time, his lips pressed together and his brows lightly furrowed. Xia Luo watched him through eyes that swirled with confusion. What was going on? She just couldn’t make sense of it.

“A-Luo,” Xia Gongmin said, finally, “oh, A-Luo. Please forgive me.” With that, he brushed away the hair that had come out of place back behind Xia Luo’s ear, stood up, and exhaled deeply.

It was a long while before Xia Luo looked up, and when she did, her uncle was already long gone. The unease she had felt in her stomach the day prior had lessened slightly, and with it came a minor sense of calm. The confusion was no less than it had been since the morning, but there was something in her preventing her from panicking.

The next thing she knew, it was dinner time. A maid came to tell her to meet Xia Shunchao in the dining hall, which she did, her fan in hand. She snapped it open and closed the whole way, the sound matching the steady rhythm of her footsteps. With each step she took, the sense of calm that had sprouted earlier in the day grew greater. Stepping over the threshold into the dinning hall, she snapped her fan shut once more, tucked it into her sleeve, and exhaled. Her mind was empty.

Once seated, the three partook in a variety of dumplings made in Xia Luo’s honor. Never one to pass up a dumpling, Xia Luo helped herself and ignored the heavy, oppressive air in the dining room. Xia Shunchao was making small talk while Xia Gongmin sat in silence, the dark mood Xia Luo had sensed on him from earlier still present and palpable. Tired of feeling lost and confused, she ignored them both and sank into the quiet hum of her own mind as she munched on one dumpling after another.

Finally, dinner ended and Xia Luo stood with her mother and uncle to bid them goodnight. She intended to go to her room early and do some painting to channel the energy she wished to cultivate before bed, but her mother had other plans.

“A-Luo, come walk with me. There are some things you are old enough to know.” This time there was no disguising the look of rage on Xia Gongmin’s face. His eyes had darkened considerably and Xia Luo could almost feel a murderous aura coming off of him. Xia Shunchao didn’t spare him so much as a glance. “Come away,” she said, already halfway out the door.

There was nothing to be done. Xia Luo eyed her uncle’s back as he swept from the room, his footsteps heavy as he left, and sighed. Whatever he and her mother had fought over the previous night must have been far worse than any of their previous arguments for him to be behaving in such a way. Xia Gongmin was usually the first person to remind his niece of the importance of maintaining a diplomatic air, even in times of great strife. That was how he had made it as Nie Mingjue’s foremost advisor for so long, after all.

The scent of sweet osmanthus carried on the cool, evening air, and a light breeze sent wispy clouds skittering across the moon. The sleeves of Xia Luo’s new robes were fuller than she was used to so they caught the breeze and danced languidly at her sides. In the courtyard, Xia Shunchao’s silhouette stood solidly against the darkening purple sky, her hands clasped behind her back as she looked up at nothing in particular. Xia Luo approached her mother and had hardly made it within ten steps of her before Xia Shunchao started to speak.

“Xia Luo, do you know what you’ve been training for?” she began, still looking up at the sky. “Do you understand to what end you have been training?”

Xia Luo stopped her advance and responded without much thought, “Of course. I’ve been training to become a cultivator,” she answered.

Her mother clicked her tongue. “You are no mere disciple, dear. Your training has more purpose than to produce a cultivator. Anyone can train to become a cultivator.” She turned her head to look at her daughter. Xia Luo waited for her to continue.

“You used to ask me about your father,” said Xia Shunchao. “Would you like to know who he was?”

Xia Luo’s indifferent air wavered. Why would she bring this up now? What did I have to be old enough to hear?

Without waiting for a response, Xia Shunchao continued, “Your father was a mighty warrior. He fought alongside the most recognized cultivators of his day and led armies. He was a skilled swordsman, cultivator, and leader. His people respected him and followed him loyally. He was impressive in every way. When I look at you, I see so much of him in you.” She stepped forward to run her fingertips along Xia Luo’s brows before tracing the defined edge of her jaw. “You have his ferocity as well as his stubbornness.” She moved back with the last statement and appeared to be collecting her thoughts. Xia Luo felt her skin prickle slightly but chalked it up to the cool breeze.

“What he didn’t have, however, was a wife or a child. When I met him I was still quite young and would have been a good wife for him, but he never seemed interested in marriage or having children. He was so focused on his military campaigns and other such business,” she said, waving indifferently at nothing in particular. “I didn’t have the heart to distract him from it all, so I waited. I thought he would notice me as we got a bit older. I thought he would recognize his duties and reassess his priorities given his position. I was wrong,” continued Xia Shunchao, her voice dipping low for a moment before returning to her usual way of speaking.

“I kept waiting, but I saw that nothing was changing except for our ages. Time was passing and we were only getting older. I was getting impatient, as you could expect one would,” she said, a hint of justification hiding within her tone. “Of course, it’s improper for a woman to take the initiative, but I figured it would be easier for us both if I went for it. He came over for dinner like he often did back then, and I gave him some wine. Well, I gave him a bit more than ‘some’ wine and I doctored it a bit. He was such an incorrigible man that I knew I needed to take some precautions if this was to go well.”

Xia Luo felt the natural heat of her face drain away bit by bit. The more she listened, the more she felt that feeling of dread from the previous night return and replace the temporary calm she had found before dinner. She watched her mother emote with her hands, her own trepidation mounting with each passing moment.

“After dinner and a few cups of my wine,” her mother said, bringing her hands close to her chest, “he went off to bed. It had been a long day, anyway, and he was tired. Your uncle was also quite tired from the day, so I only had to wait a little for him to retire to his own chambers. Without anyone seeing me,” her expression like that of a child getting away with sneaking a candy, “I went to the chamber your father would occupy whenever he would stay the night.” Xia Luo’s lungs froze and her chest suddenly flushed cold.

“I let myself in, came up to the bed, and found him lying there in welcome. It was as though he had waited for me,” she said in a rush as she stepped up to Xia Luo and gripped her arms. “You can’t imagine how relieved I was. All those years of waiting didn’t end in vain!”

Xia Luo wanted to free herself from her mother’s grip but found that she couldn’t shake her. It was as though something had overtaken Xia Shunchao, perhaps in the same way something had overtaken her that night.

“Muqin, let me go,” said Xia Luo, struggling to pull away. “I don’t want to hear any more. Muqin, please, stop! I don’t want to hear any more of this!”

“Why, dear? Don’t you want to know who that magnificent man was? Don’t you want to know who made you?” Xia Shunchao said, her face close to Xia Luo’s.

“No, no, I don’t want to know,” Xia Luo begged. I’d rather pretend he was a cultivator from a faraway clan who fell for your charm before getting called back home to focus on cultivating! she thought desperately as she struggled.

“Nie Mingjue,” her mother breathed into the bruised night sky.

* * * * *

Xia Luo stood frozen to the spot. It was as though she could see the name begin to float into the night before freezing and cracking. She saw the name fall to the ground and splinter into a thousand shards.

Nie Mingjue. Former clan leader, Nie Mingjue. The current clan leader’s older brother and her uncle’s idol, Nie Mingjue.

Xia Luo’s stomach flipped.

“Haven’t you ever wondered where you got your physique from, A-Luo? What about your inherent strength or your affinity for a blade?” her mother asked, perfectly calm. “You look like him, so much more like him than you do like me. Haven’t you ever looked at his portraits and seen your own likeness reflected back at you?”

Xia Luo stumbled backwards a few steps now that her mother had released her. Her flipping stomach, cold chest, and general dizziness coalesced into a wave of nausea that sent her fleeing for the bushes.

“Oh, Xia Luo,” said her mother, her voice cutting through the deep purple night, “you have my actions to thank for the opportunities you have today. Do you really think you would have gotten to live this life had your father been anyone else?”

Xia Luo didn’t know what to think. In fact, she was in no position to think anything at that moment. My mother… she… the wine… his room… Nie Mingjue .

Nie Mingjue. As the name sounded in her head it brought with it another wave of nausea. This must have been the source of the dread she had harbored since the previous evening, and now it was manifesting in the only way it could in order to leave her body. She retched and lost her entire dinner.

“Really, now. Stand straight, Xia Luo. You’re not a child anymore.” Xia Shunchao walked across the courtyard to where Xia Luo had fled. “You will learn that life is full of difficult decisions, and they only get more difficult the older you get. Life is not easy, nor is it straightforward. Why, look at me,” her mother said, gesturing broadly to herself. “I chose to bear Nie Mingjue’s child and raise you without him around.”

“Did he even know?” Xia Luo rasped.

“Know? Did he know what, dear?” asked Xia Shunchao.

“Did he know a child came of… that .” Xia Luo closed her eyes against another swell of nausea.

“He might have suspected something had occurred, but he was only notified when it was clear I would carry to term, and then he was informed of your birth,” her mother said; she didn’t pay any notice to her daughter’s discomfort. “He was supposed to come to your one month celebration, but he died before that could happen. In the end, it worked out just fine that way,” she said, nonchalant. Xia Luo looked up, caught off guard by the last statement.

“Don’t look at me like that,” her mother said, her chin in the air. “Your uncle had made a deal with your father that you would be raised as a cultivator under the Xia family name until it came time for you to prove yourself. If you could pass muster, then Nie Mingjue would recognize you as his legitimate son and you would take the Nie name.”

“Fortunately,” her mother continued, “Nie Huaisang, his younger brother and heir to the Nie seat, came across the signed agreement after his brother’s death. He also came across that sword you carry. He couldn’t make it out for your one month celebration either, so he had the sword as well as your fan sent as a gift; the former on behalf of your father, and the latter given in his own name. Inside the box for the fan was a letter stating that he would honor his late brother’s agreement to recognize you as a legitimate son of Nie Mingjue upon the same terms as stated previously.”

Xia Luo finally managed to speak up. “Wait, ‘son’? I’m not —”

Xia Shunchao cut her off. “Well, obviously. Why would he bother with a daughter?”

“You told them he had a son? Muqin, I’m not —”

Xia Shunchao cut her off again. “There’s really no need to make a fuss, Xia Luo. We weren’t the ones who said he had a son. He must have taken our mention of your birth to mean that he had a son, since the birth of a daughter would hardly be worth mentioning.”

“But that wasn’t what you meant,” said Xia Luo. Her legs started to feel weak beneath her.

“No, it wasn’t, but that was how it was interpreted. When the letter came back stating he would recognize a son, we had little choice but to adapt and plan out how to raise you to best accomplish the task you had been set.” Xia Shunchao had been walking idly back and forth in front of Xia Luo, perfectly at ease and as though nothing was wrong. Xia Luo, on the other hand, felt her knees buckle. Xia Shunchao carried on even as her daughter sank to the ground.

“Honestly, it was a task for all of us. We couldn’t have loose lips about — you know how much the servants like to gossip — which also meant we couldn’t allow you to be around children. Children always say too much. We had to be careful with the teachers we brought in, which is why your uncle and I took on most of your training. It was quite the effort,” she explained as she flicked a lock of black hair over her shoulder. “It got easier as you got older, though. After a while, strangers came to see you as a little boy rather than a girl. That’s when I knew there was hope in pulling this off.”

The ground fell out from under Xia Luo and she plunged into cold, dark water. Even though she could feel her fingertips touching the stone of the courtyard, it was still as though she were sinking into a bottomless abyss. All thought and sense left her like thousands of little bubbles rushing towards the unreachable surface as she sank farther and farther down.

Young master.

Young warrior.

“He’ll be taller than you…”

“He’s really cute.”

“He looks so strong.”

“Oh, he’s blushing!”

With an audible gasp, Xia Luo flew through the abyss and broke through the surface of the water, her eyes snapping open. The tailor, the townspeople, the vendors, the girls. Everything suddenly became clear to her.

“What is it?” asked her mother, a frown on her face. She turned to look behind her to see what her daughter was looking at, but when she saw nothing there she realized Xia Luo was staring at her.

Her whole life Xia Luo had been raised as a boy but had never known because she had been so well insulated from the outside world. She had never had friends to play with because, as her mother put it, children couldn’t keep a secret. The servants that were with the Xia family were often brought from far-off villages and were thus ignorant of Nie family politics. Her mother had openly scorned women’s work and made it seem inferior to Xia Luo since a young age, thus making it hard for her to associate herself with the women who did that work. Her clothes resembled those that the boys wore, she never wore jewelry, and had never once put on makeup. All at once all of the little things that she had never really considered came together and made her realize that she had been manipulated since birth into becoming something she wasn’t.

“What have you done,” she whispered. “Why would you do this?”

Her mother scowled. “I did what I had to do, and now you will do what you must,” said Xia Shunchao. “The day after next you will leave for a year of cultivation training at the Cloud Recesses with the Lan Clan of Gusu. I wasn’t sure you had what it took to be presentable to their masters, but I was assured when you cut down that yao beast in town. You held no reserve, no hesitation, just as expected of the son of Nie Mingjue.”

“Muqin, I’m not his son. You lied to him, to Clan Leader Huaisang, and now to the masters of Gusu Lan! There is no way I would be taken for a boy,” Xia Luo protested, utterly baffled by her mother’s actions.

“Do you really think you would be taken for a girl?” Xia Shunchao sneered.

Xia Luo faltered. “What?”

“Please, A-Luo. Look at yourself. Broad shouldered, broad and flat-chested, taller than a woman should be, muscular,” she said, gesturing at Xia Luo with each trait she listed. “You’re not fair like jade; in fact, you have the color of milk tea. You frown too much, you glare, your hands are too strong, and you walk with the presence of a warrior. With your robes, hair, weapons, and other such trappings, there is no way you could be seen as anything but a boy,” she continued, a look of pity almost entering her expression. “When was the last time someone referred to you as “young miss” out in town, Xia Luo? Even your name itself is masculine.”

With every word her mother said, Xia Luo became more desperate.

“You’re going to say that you can change it, aren’t you?” said Xia Shunchao. “You can’t. You will go to the Cloud Recesses, you will cultivate, and when you return you will earn your rightful place as the next heir to the Nie Clan.” Xia Luo didn’t even have a chance to raise any objections or alternate options.

“You are unmarriageable as a woman, Xia Luo. You know the basics of women’s work, but the best you would find would be men who were all beneath you. You are cultivated. You are learned in the Six Arts to a high proficiency. You are of royal blood.” Her mother looked at her, her dark eyes reflecting the light of the moon. “Your future is wide open to you, Xia Luo, but it is only open to you as a boy.”

* * * * *

Xia Luo took off running. She ran unseeing from the courtyard, the flowing sleeves of her new robe flapping behind her.

No, this can’t be. I’m not a boy! She ran, but her mother’s voice cut in, and she questioned herself. Even if I’m not a boy, if everyone sees me as one, then does it matter? What kind of girl would I even be? I’m not like the girls from town, that much I know.

With a skid, Xia Luo careened around a corner and sent a servant sprawling.

“Sorry!” she exclaimed as she straightened them up and continued running. Where was he? Where was her uncle?

“Jiujiu!” she yelled. Without knocking or waiting for a response, Xia Luo threw open the door to her uncle’s private study and stood panting in the doorway. Her uncle looked up at her, his expression full of defeat.

“Xia Luo.”

“Jiujiu,” she said, throwing herself to the floor before his desk. “Muqin has lost her mind! She’s sending me away to train in Gusu as a boy! As a boy , Jiujiu! Tell her it can't be done, I’ll be found out and we’ll all be disgraced!”

Xia Gongmin let out a long, heavy sigh. “It is too late, A-Luo. It must be done.” His expression darkened and she saw in it the same anger that had marked him throughout the day.

“It can’t be done,” said Xia Luo, her voice small. “I can’t lie to them all, and even if I could, surely they’d see right through me. Jiujiu, this is madness. To what end is this? She says I’m Nie Mingjue’s child, and she said… she said all kinds of things about how that came to be.” Xia Luo implored her uncle with her eyes as she spoke. “Jiujiu, please, I feel so lost.”

Xia Gongmin clenched his fist so suddenly on the table that it crumpled the paper beneath his hand. “ She did this, and now we must all pay the price for her sins, all except for her. You have no choice, A-Luo,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry, A-Luo. I should have never let her tell him.”

Xia Luo’s eyes went wide and she began shaking her head. “No, no, it can’t be. Jiujiu, you were his most trusted aide, and she was just your younger sister. She must be lying. Jiujiu, she must be lying about it all!” 

“I wish she were lying, A-Luo.” Xia Gongmin looked up from his desk, his eyes rimmed red. On the desk he placed a letter and slid it over to his niece. At the top was a statement written in her uncle’s neat style, and below it were affirmations written in a handwriting she knew well. These characters were written with strong marks, each one clear and decisive and with an almost heavy hand. It took only one glance at this writing to know it was done by a master swordsman, and it even carried a hint of the writer’s hidden ferocity. Xia Luo had grown up reading boring letters and memos written by this hand. In fact, it was by using this handwriting as a standard form that she learned how to write. If compared side by side, her writing was an unmistakable derivative of the original.

Afraid to breathe or swallow, Xia Luo let her eyes track the writing down to the signatures at the bottom of the page. There, beside her uncle’s crisp signature, was the dominating signature of Nie Mingjue.

“I don’t want this,” Xia Luo breathed, her voice sounding as dry as a puff of air leaving an ancient coffin. “Jiujiu, I don’t want this.” She wanted to curl up in her uncle’s arms like she used to as a child when she was afraid or hurt. She wanted to hide, close her eyes, and be told that everything was going to be ok, that it had just been a nightmare. But she was too old for that, now.

“We can’t change the past, Xia Luo,” her uncle said, “no matter how much we would like to.”

Xia Luo could hear the pain in his voice, but she didn’t have the space in her heart to consider anyone’s regrets but her own at that moment. Betrayed and abandoned, she stumbled out of her uncle’s office and made her way to the front gate of the estate.

“Xia Luo, happy birthday!” called the guard. “Ah, that robe is beautiful.” The guard paused in his well wishes when he saw Xia Luo making a beeline for the single-person gate beside the small watch tower. “Xia Luo, you’re not to leave the grounds without a chaperone per your mother’s orders,” he said haltingly as he rushed over to intercept her. Before he could utter another word, he was met with a punch to the stomach that knocked the air out of him and doubled him over.

Xia Luo didn’t look back as she swept past the gasping man and slipped out through the gate. It wasn’t until she had run a fair distance from the estate that she finally stopped someplace random and drew in a shuddering breath. It was before a small buddhist shrine to the Great Strength Bodhisattva that Xia Luo broke down and wept bitterly over the secrets she had learned.

Even though her upbringing made sense now, she still couldn't make the least bit of sense out of why her mother had chosen this route. Why hadn’t she simply raised Xia Luo as a girl? She was a bastard child regardless, so her sex should hardly have mattered in the end. But it had mattered because of that letter, agreed on by all and signed by her own uncle and father.

Nie Mingjue had never once laid eyes on her. He hadn’t chosen to have her in the first place. It was her mother who plotted and manipulated the situation. Besides her plan to conceive Nie Mingjue’s child, how much more had she manipulated behind everyone’s backs? Xia Gongmin hardly seemed like he had been the one making the decisions. Even so, he wasn’t blameless.

Xia Luo hugged her knees close and cried into her new robes, her head and heart a mess. Her mother and uncle were right; they were in too deep to back out now, no matter how much she wanted to forget the whole thing.

“Oh, ox god, grant me strength,” she prayed, her voice muffled. “I may not be a peasant toiling in the fields alongside you, nor have I brought you any offerings, but grant me strength this once and I will never forget you.” Xia Luo looked up through bloodshot eyes to focus on the small ox figure on the altar. “One year. I need the strength to make it through one year of everyone’s expectations of me. After that, let fate determine the rest.”

In the dark of night, Xia Luo could barely make out the outline of something beside the altar. Reaching forward to feel it, she recognized it as a broken incense stick. Wiping her face on her sleeves, she knelt properly before the altar and lit the incense on the low-burning nub of the candle that remained.

“The gods must be smiling upon me, if only in this small matter,” she said. “At least now I won’t leave your altar without an offering, meager though it may be.” Xia Luo placed the incense stick in the holder, then sighed. She’d never been particularly spiritual, but after the day’s turmoil and the uncertainty of what was to come, perhaps it was a good time to reach out to the gods. You never knew who was listening.

Chapter Text

The Xia household was in a right state when Xia Luo returned home the morning after she had punched the guard and ran away. She had ended up falling asleep curled up before the ox deity’s altar and had had dreamless sleep, more than likely because her waking hours had been a nightmare. Her mother had rushed up to her upon her arrival and shook her by her arms, demanding to know where she had gone and if she had lost her mind. Xia Luo simply brushed Xia Shunchao off without a word and strode past the gathered household to retreat to her room.

Once there, she called for a bath to be run, left her new, dirtied robes in a heap on the floor, and soaked in quiet meditation until the water went cold. She didn’t leave her room at all that day, and when her mother threatened from outside that she would not be fed unless she came into the dining room and explained herself, Xia Luo stated calmly that she was fasting in preparation for her journey. This infuriated her mother, but no matter what she tried, she was unable to enter Xia Luo’s room or receive an explanation.

The next day, Xia Luo rose early and dressed in her usual Xia disciple robes. She allowed the maid to pack her traveling bags and when the maid was finished, Xia Luo dismissed her, then proceeded to unpack the bags. She left the set of gray-green Nie robes and boots Xia Shunchao had bought as well as the fine golden hair accessory and pin on the bed; she didn’t give them a second glance. She pulled out a few more items that seemed superfluous to her, and once satisfied, she moved the two remaining, small bags outside her room, closed the door, and told the servant to set them by the pavillion.

Only Xia Shunchao was in attendance at breakfast and she started harping at Xia Luo the moment she walked in.

“How dare you run off like that! And punching a guard? What were you thinking?” she railed before Xia Luo had even taken a seat. Xia Luo immediately changed her mind about sitting down.

“Where are you going? Xia Luo, get back here. Xia Luo, don’t you turn your back to me!” Xia Shunchao’s voice raised with each statement, but Xia Luo paid her no mind. She simply took two buns from the table and stalked out of the room, her mother’s angry voice ringing out behind her.

Xia Luo didn’t care what time her departure had been scheduled for, she was ready to leave now. She had Yongyao at her waist, her fan tucked into her vambrace, and her ribbon tied into her bun. Xia Gongmin found her standing at the pavilion eating her breakfast shortly after, the noise Xia Shunchao was making having alerted him to Xia Luo’s movements. Without a word, he took one of the bags and stepped onto his saber, then rose swiftly into the air. Xia Luo followed right behind him and the two left the Xia estate behind in a blink.

* * * * *

Xia Luo and Xia Gongmin spoke very little during the trip. As both uncle and niece were stuck in their own heads, they kept conversation to the most abbreviated questions and responses possible. They took few breaks, opting instead to make it to Gusu as quickly as possible. When they did arrive, they took lodging in a small inn in town and took some rest in their own rooms, even choosing to take their meals separately once dinner time came around. 

Xia Luo’s room had a window looking out onto the main street in town, and from it she could see the townspeople below closing up shop as the evening got on. There were plenty that stayed open, but the general bustle on the street died down as night fell. In any other circumstances Xia Luo would have been raring to go explore her new surroundings, but not now. Now, as soon as she finished her dinner and a quick bath, she collapsed into bed and let silent tears run hot down her cheeks before soaking into her pillow. She didn’t want anyone there with her, yet she felt lonely and uncomfortably homesick. The thought of home only made her tears feel all the more bitter, and she fell asleep with the blanket scrunched tight in her fists and a frown creasing her forehead.

A feeling of dread jolted Xia Luo awake, the realization of what lay ahead of her bringing on a wave of nausea. Doing her best to steady her breathing and take control of her emotions, Xia Luo rolled out of bed and opened the window to take in the cool, early morning air that felt entirely different from the air she was accustomed to. It brought images of dancing cranes to mind, or waterfalls, which she had only seen once on a Night Hunt with Xia Gongmin. The way the mist swirled in the early morning here reminded her of the way the spray from the waterfall hung about in the air, but here there was also the crisp scent of the mountains trapped within the floating water particles.

With a shaky breath, Xia Luo inhaled deeply, feeling like her lungs had to expand to their fullest capacity in order to bring in enough oxygen.

This can only end in disaster, she thought. I’ll be entirely out of place in every way; they’ll see right through me.

A knock at her door took her away from the window, and when she opened it the innkeep presented her with a light breakfast.

“It’s early, so the kitchens aren’t fully going yet, but I thought some congee for you and the other master would help you start your day,” the innkeep said with a smile. Xia Luo bowed and accepted the bowl with gratitude. “Best of luck in your cultivation studies, young master. I’ve seen so many boys like you get put through it. Well, I’ve seen the results of it when they come into town, anyway,” the innkeep said. She took her leave after Xia Luo nodded to her in acknowledgment.

Boys like me.

Finally, it was time to part ways with Xia Gongmin. Niece and uncle stood facing each other at the base of the stairs leading up to the Cloud Recesses, both of them sullen but resolved. Xia Gongmin held out a letter and a tiny parcel to Xia Luo.

“This is the letter you will present to the guards and masters at the top of the stairs,” he said. “They will be waiting for you, and this is your ticket in.” Xia Luo took it from him, and they both stared at it in silence for a minute. “A-Luo, now is not the time to explain myself, but I will answer anything you wish to ask me when we meet again, should you wish to speak with me,” he said, his voice level and calm. Xia Luo could feel the pulse of emotions beneath the surface of his words.

Xia Gongmin held out the small parcel next. “This was supposed to be your birthday gift, but the day did not go as expected. Open it if and when you please,” he said. “A-Luo, do what you believe is right. That is all I have to say.”

Xia Luo stood still, then slowly reached out and took the parcel. She looked into her uncle’s eyes, then bowed in silence. Xia Gongmin lowered his head in return, and just like that, the two parted ways.

Alone, Xia Luo began the ascent to the Cloud Recesses, one bag hung on each shoulder and letter in hand. She tucked her uncle’s gift into her robe with a soft snort. Her thoughts swirled with the mist which continued to hang heavy in the air step after step.

Surely it will clear at the top, she thought. I can’t imagine the Lan Clan lives in perpetual mist, so much as they live above it.

Ahead of her she could hear faint voices, most likely from other guest disciples. This thought made her stomach clench, but her steps only faltered for a moment.

What will stopping here do? she chided herself. Nothing. There’s nowhere to turn back to, so go on.

Since the mist obscured the light of dawn, Xia Luo had difficulty gauging how much time had passed since she started her ascent, but the voices she heard from up ahead were closer now. It seemed she had been walking faster than whoever was ahead of her.

“How much longer do you think it is? These stairs go on forever!” came the first voice.

“Well, we’re climbing a mountain, so of course there are a lot of stairs,” pointed out a second voice.

“Maybe we should take a break?” said a third. “It wouldn’t look very good if we showed up sweaty, after all.” After some mumbling, it sounded as though the three had decided to rest. Xia Luo took a deep breath and prepared to pass by them on the trail.

“Oh, look, another disciple!” said the boy who had complained about the stairs. “Are you a new arrival, too?” he asked. Xia Luo stopped to give a small bow to the group and took in the appearance of their uniforms. There were two from the Yao Clan and one from the Laoling Qin Clan. It was the one from Laoling that had addressed her first.

Xia Luo nodded in response.

“Oh, good, there will be more than just us, then,” said the stockier Yao disciple. “Say, have you studied a lot before coming out here? I was sent because my father wanted me to come in order to arrange a better marriage for me, but I didn’t really study all that much.”

The three boys started talking amongst one another and continued to throw questions Xia Luo’s way, but she was eager to get on with her ascent. While the three were going on about something that didn’t involve her, Xia Luo took her leave and started walking again.

They talk so much, she thought.

“Hey, where are you going! Why don’t we come with you?” called the Qin disciple.

“Yeah, we can all go up together. That way we can’t get singled out by Hanguang-jun or Lan Qiren,” said the other Yao disciple.

Xia Luo didn’t turn around but could hear the boys gathering their things and hurrying to catch up to her.

“Say, you don’t talk much,” said the Qin disciple as he came to walk beside her. He peered at her, his lip jutted out. “Did you take a vow of silence or something?”

Xia Luo thought for just a moment before nodding. The boys’ eyes all went wide.

“What! Really? What could have happened that you’d do that! Oh, that must be awful,” they said, lamenting in turns.

What could have happened? Xia Luo repeated to herself. I’d much rather never speak again than speak about what happened. She didn’t allow thoughts of whether or not the Lan masters would permit her to uphold her silence to surface in her mind.

Before the boys could pester her more they broke through the cloud line and emerged from the mist to find themselves staring at just a short segment of the staircase before the way leveled off into a wide area paved in stone. Finally out of the heavy mist, Xia Luo got her first clear look at the mountain peak. The sight made her gasp.

Now that they were above the cloud line, rays of morning sun bathed the ground in warm, yellow light. Bird song she had never heard before rang out clear and crisp over the gentle rustle of leaves from the many ancient trees around the clearing. Above her was a sky that was as smooth as jade, completely unblemished by clouds. It was as if the clouds themselves had descended so as not to sully the brilliance of the Cloud Recesses, and never before had Xia Luo seen so much open sky or such massive landforms. Where she had been in Nie territory had been heavily forested and was hilly rather than mountainous, not open and expansive like this.

Xia Luo’s wide-eyed gaze came to a tall, flat section of the mountain face that was inscribed with countless characters. In front of it, a small group of white-clad individuals stood waiting for them. Xia Luo came within a respectful distance of them, placed her bags by her feet, and bowed deeply before them. The boys that had tagged along behind her followed suit a moment later.

“Welcome to the Cloud Recesses,” came the strong voice of a youth. “Behind me is the Lan Clan’s Wall of Discipline; on it you will find the precepts that guide our clan’s teachings and way of life. As guest disciples, you will be expected to adhere to the precepts and live their values as long as you train here. Now, please present your letters so we can verify your identities, after which you will be formally taken into the Cloud Recesses as disciples.”

The youth who had spoken stepped forward to take one of the boys’ letters and read through some of the information out loud. Satisfied, he moved onto the next boy, and Xia Luo took the opportunity to get a look at him. At a glance, he looked to be older than her, though he was just about the same height as her. He had kind eyes, a gentle smile, and an air that was working towards being austere.

He doesn’t look cunning. All the same, this is it. Will I be turned away from the mountain before I even step foot in the Cloud Recesses?

Xia Luo held out her letter with both hands and bowed as the youth came to stand in front of her. 

“Xia Luo,” the youth said, reading from the letter. “You come from Qinghe, nephew to Xia Gongmin, personal advisor to the former leader of the Nie Clan of Qinghe.” The youth looked up from the letter and smiled at Xia Luo. “You’ve only just turned fifteen.” He held the letter back out to her and she took it with both hands and a bow. “Welcome,” he said, his voice warm.

Xia Luo let a breath out slowly through her nose as he stepped away to check the other boy’s letter. She could feel her hands gently shaking.

* * * * *

Xia Luo and the boys were brought into the Cloud Recesses, and if Xia Luo had found the area with the Wall of Discipline to be beautiful, then what she saw before her now could only be described as divine. It was spring, so the cherry blossoms were in full bloom, and white and pink petals fell from the branches to coat the ground like snow. The sweet fragrance of the blossoms scented the air, grasshoppers chirruped in the grass, and Xia Luo could feel the feather-light kiss of the wind. Spotted across the landscape were Lan Clan members floating along on their way to their morning duties in such a way that made Xia Luo believe it was they who displaced the clouds from the Cloud Recesses.

You could fall on the ground here and not get a bit of dirt on you, I’m sure, she thought, absorbed in the scene. No wonder they can get away with wearing white.

She blinked out of her wonder just in time to step over a threshold as the group was led into the dormitories. Here, Xia Luo was able to breathe her second sigh of relief since arriving; each disciple was given a small room of their own, so she wouldn’t have to worry about being found out as a girl when changing her clothing. It was a small thing, but it was a relief nonetheless. The room itself had a platform bed, nightstand, chest, and wash basin on a stand. There was also a small wardrobe to hang robes and tuck shoes away, which they were told they would have time to do later that day.

After setting their bags down they were escorted to the Orchid Room, the place they would come for their daily lessons. Xia Luo and her group each took a seat behind a desk and waited until another group of guest disciples entered the room. This group arrived slightly later than Xia Luo’s group and had been escorted by a different set of Lan disciples. Now that all of the guest disciples were present, they awaited the arrival of Lan Qiren to give them their formal introduction. The boy with the kind eyes and his friend stood to the side of the room talking quietly together, and the other boys talked amongst themselves as they waited, too. Only Xia Luo sat in silence.

The Orchid Room where they sat was a pretty, airy classroom with simple furniture and a lack of distractions. While the room was far from plain or bare, it was clear that it was designed with the intention of keeping a student’s focus on their work and not on anything else. A pleasant breeze moved through the room, gently ruffling the tapestries on the wall and parchment on the desks.

The desk in front of her contained all of the implements a student could need. Besides the brushes, ink, and parchment, it was the book of precepts that caught Xia Luo’s eyes.

So we really will be expected to live by all those rules on the wall outside.

“Xia Luo?” a voice said that brought her back from her own thoughts. It was the boy who had welcomed them earlier, and it looked as though he had asked her a question. “You trained in Qinghe, so I was wondering if you fight with a saber as opposed to a sword,” he repeated.

Xia Luo glanced down at her waist, then removed her sword and held it out to him. She could feel her vexation written on her face.

How do I tell him I can’t speak?

“Oh, young master, Xia Luo is sworn to a vow of silence,” explained one of the Yao Clan boys. “We found out on our way up the mountain.”

The boy blinked in surprise. “This is good to know,” he said, “I’ll be certain to let the elders know so they understand. Is there a set time when this vow ends?” he asked. Xia Luo shook her head no. “Is there a condition that must be fulfilled?” he asked. She hesitated, then nodded her head yes. “Ah, so it’s not a lifelong vow, then. I will inform the elders. There shouldn’t be an issue with this,” he reassured her. He turned to his friend. “Jingyi, do you recall having any silent visiting disciples before?”

His friend shook his head. “Nah, but it should be fine. It’s more often that people are told to talk less,” he said, laughing. He was much louder than the other boy and had a looser bearing.

His name is Jingyi. From the headband he’s wearing, he is a Lan. Lan Jingyi. Xia Luo committed his face and name to memory. She found out soon after that the other boy’s name was Lan Sizhui, and that he was Hanguang-jun’s disciple. No wonder he seems so put together. If he’s his disciple, then he must also be considered the next in line as head of the Lan Clan, unless Lan Xichen were to take on a disciple.

Xia Luo had lowered her sword while talk about her silence went on, but Lan Sizhui soon returned to his question, so she held it out again.

“I’ve never seen a sword like this,” he commented. “It’s much wider than a regular sword, and much heavier, too.”

Lan Jingyi looked it over before voicing his own opinion. “You’d think it was trying to be a saber! Say, why don’t you have a saber? Don’t all the Nie disciples train with a saber?”

Xia Luo pursed her lips and frowned. I don’t know why I don’t have a saber. If Nie Mingjue was my father, why wouldn’t he have gifted me a saber? Why did he give me this strange sword?

There was no time to dwell on the matter. A shift in the air marked the entrance of Lan Qiren and Hanguang-jun, both unmistakable from the portraits Xia Shunchao had shown Xia Luo of them. The former was bearded and looked tired yet sharp, and the latter was nothing short of impressive. Aside from Xia Gongmin who was tall and built like a warrior, Xia Luo had never seen another man who held such bodily presence as Hanguang-jun. Tall, clearly muscular, and with a cool gaze that felt like it could see through you, this man certainly lived up to his title of “Light Bearing Lord”. Xia Luo avoided his gaze and kept her own gaze at the level of the men’s chests after bowing with the others in greeting.

Lan Qiren bid them to sit down, then commenced his introductory speech. Xia Luo listened intently to everything he said, determined to avoid breaking the rules so as to avoid one-on-one interaction with either him or Hanguang-jun.

If I can follow the rules and perform well in class and on Night Hunts, then I can hopefully stay out of their direct attention. I can’t give them anything to scrutinize me over. Hanguang-jun, especially.

“You should direct your questions to our disciples first, but if they do not have the answer, then you should seek out your teachers. Learn to rely on your peers for help when needed, but focus on ensuring that you can also be the source of help should your peers be in need.” Lan Qiren cast his gaze over the new disciples. “Learn the precepts well, work hard, and you shall leave better cultivators than you are now. That is your only responsibility while you are here.” He flicked his sleeves out behind him. “Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi will help to familiarize you with the ways of our clan, as well as the layout of the Cloud Recesses. I shall see you tomorrow for class.”

With that, Lan Qiren walked out of the classroom, and everyone bowed until he was gone from the room. Xia Luo took the book of precepts from the desk and secured her sword back to her belt. When she looked up she nearly jumped as her heart hit the bottom of her stomach. Hanguang-jun was looking at her and she had made the mistake of meeting his eyes.

“Xia Luo,” he called. The command was implied, so Xia Luo swallowed hard and went to stand before him. She bowed low and proper, willing her hands not to shake.

This is it. He really can see through anything. His is the light that shines through even the darkest waters.

“I am told you have sworn a vow of silence,” he said. “You will need a way to communicate while in class. Have you any ideas?” he asked, giving Xia Luo the sense that she was already being tested as a student.

Xia Luo slowly came up from her bow. She racked her brain for a solution. There had to be something, maybe a spell of some sort that would allow her to make her questions and answers known to the teachers. An idea suddenly hit her, and she nodded her head. She took a seat behind the nearest desk and picked up a brush. She drew two small seals on each sheet of parchment, then offered the second sheet to Hanguang-jun and took a seat again. Nervous though she was, she looked up at him, shy but expectant.

“Mn. Who was Gusu Lan’s third leader, and what technique did they invent?” he said.

Xia Luo only had to think for a moment before writing down her answer and ending it with another small seal.

“Lan Yi invented the Chord Assasination technique,” read Hanguang-jun. “Correct.” He set the parchment down on the desk and gave a small nod to Xia Luo, then left the room.

“Hey, that’s really clever!” said Lan Jingyi. “How’d you think of that? Was it a duplication spell?”

“Mn,” grunted Xia Luo. It looked as though she just might make it through the first day undetected.

* * * * *

After the formal greeting, the two Lan boys took Xia Luo and the others on a tour of the areas within the Cloud Recesses that would be accessible to them during their stay. Xia Luo took it all in with a neutral expression, though inside she was taken aback by the beauty and serenity of the place.The buildings meshed seamlessly into the landscape, and each plant was exactly where it ought to be; there was nothing out of place..

The tour ended at the dining hall where all the masters and disciples would come for their three meals each day. Seeing as it was now lunch time and Xia Luo had only eaten a small breakfast early that morning, she found that she was ravenous despite her nerves. Lan Sizhui reminded the newcomers that meals were taken in silence, but it didn’t change how strange it was to see so many people gathered and eating without uttering a single word.

At the Xia estate, meals were some of the only times that Jiujiu, Muqin, and I were all in the same room together, so meals were the best time to speak. I suppose it works to my benefit now, though.

In front of her was a bowl of rice, a bowl of soup heavy with greens, and a dish of tofu and vegetables. There was no wine on the table, and when she glanced at where the masters were seated, she didn’t notice any wine jugs there, either.

The Lan Clan members don’t consume alcohol while in the Cloud Recesses. I saw that in the book of precepts.

She waited until Lan Jingyi picked up his spoon and bowl before she picked up her own bowl. The soup smelled rather strongly of herbs, although she couldn’t make out exactly which herbs they were. Without more thought, Xia Luo took a spoonful of soup and nearly choked as she tried to get the contents down her throat.

Lan Sizhui reached over to pat her soundly on the back a few times. Luckily, she pulled herself together quickly and made a gesture to show that she was alright.

What is in this soup? It’s so bitter! It tastes like medicine, not food at all.

Xia Luo schooled her expression and nodded back to Lan Sizhui to assure him that she was alright. She ignored Lan Jingyi’s comically raised eyebrows and doggedly took down another spoonful of soup, this time swallowing quickly so as to taste it as little as possible.

Maybe I can just eat half of it and that will be fine.

To Xia Luo’s dismay, she noticed that both of the Lan boys had cleared their bowls of everything by the time she had finished half and set them down before moving onto the rice and vegetable dish. When she looked around, all of the other Lan members had also set aside clean bowls.

Don’t tell me clearing your plate is one of the precepts. Surely not.

Next to her, the other guest disciples had also struggled with their soup and had already set it aside in favor of the other food provided. Weighing her options, she decided it was in her best interest to follow the Lans’ lead and do as they did. With a masked grimace, she made quick work of the second half of her soup and set down the bowl with forced calm.

That is foul. It’s like they forgot they were making soup and decided to serve up what should have been an herbal decoction, instead! At least the rice can’t be bitter.

Sure enough, the rice was cooked perfectly, but was also perfectly plain. With mild expectations, she picked up some tofu and vegetables from the other plate and put them in her mouth.

No salt, no pepper, not a single herb or spice! Can the Lans not cook at all? This is dreadful.

Across from her Lan Jingyi was happily tucking into his own dish, and beside her Lan Sizhui looked almost meditative. The other boys, however, looked utterly homesick and like they were crying for their own residences’ chefs. Xia Luo could feel their pain, but she wouldn’t let it show on her face.

Pretend that eating this is the only way to cure a deadly poison you were infected with during a Night Hunt. There’s no other way, even though this food is almost inedible. Pretend it’s medicine. Be brave, Xia Luo.

When she was little, Xia Gongmin was the only one who could convince Xia Luo to take her medicine when she was sick or injured. He would say, “Pretend you’re alone in the woods, and you’ve suffered an attack from a yao beast; you make your own medicine with the herbs you’ve packed and now you have to consume it before the poison consumes you. Are you brave enough to take down the medicine, A-Luo?” This was the first time she had to say it to herself, since the last time she needed convincing was when she was still a little girl. She had long since learned to take down medicine without fuss, but this meal was another matter entirely.

After lunch, the new disciples were brought back to the dormitory to rest and unpack their things.

“We’ll come and get you all before dinner so you won’t have to walk there by yourselves,” explained Lan Sizhui. “Take the opportunity to rest and review the clan precepts.”

“Yeah, believe us,” continued Lan Jingyi, “you don’t want to get punished for not following them! You’ll have a terrible time if you break them.”

“You’ll also find Lan robes set aside for you according to the measurements sent ahead of your arrival,” said Lan Sizhui. “You’ll wear those starting tomorrow. Do you have any questions for us now?” he asked, looking amiably around the group. Everyone shook their heads.

The two departed and the other boys started talking amongst themselves. Xia Luo heard one begin to say her name, but her door was already halfway shut, so she pretended not to hear and retreated to her room. Once inside, she slid down the wall and crumpled to the floor. From her sleeve, a small parcel fell out and bumped her foot.

Xia Luo let out a heavy sigh, then picked up the parcel and opened it. Inside was a beautiful golden-bronze silk tassel with a small jade pendant attached to it. On a piece of parchment in the wrapping was a note from her uncle. “A silk tassel the same color as your hair ribbon with a jade tiger pendant. Intended to serve as a protective charm for your fan. May it serve you well.”

Xia Luo turned the yellow jade pendant over in her hand, the fierce face of the tiger flashing its teeth at her as she held it up to her face. Mustering up whatever energy she had, she pulled her fan from her vambrace and secured the tassel to it before resting her head against her knees.

I’ve only made it through the first lunch.

* * * * *

The sun was only just settling in the sky the next morning as Xia Luo and the other disciples took their seats in the Orchid Room. The colors of the new disciples’ robes from the day prior had been replaced by white, and each newcomer had a plain white forehead ribbon secured across their brow. 

Without her vambraces, Xia Luo felt somewhat underdressed, and even though the sleeves of her new robes could hold all manner of things, they still didn’t feel right. Floating somewhere in her left qiankun sleeve was her fan with the tassel and pendant from Xia Gongmin, but it felt too far away. It felt removed from her, inaccessible. Absent-mindedly, she fished around in her sleeve until she grasped the closed fan and reassured herself that it was still within reach.

Remembering Hanguang-jun’s approval of her method for communicating in class the day prior, Xia Luo set up the linking spell between two pieces of parchment and set one on the teacher’s desk at the front before setting up her own desk.

I hope I’m not too far behind the others , she thought. Lan Sizhui said I’m the youngest in the group, and I must be the only one here not affiliated with one of the four great clans’ disciple programs. I never trained at the Unclean Realm.

She clenched her jaw and pushed the thought away. It wouldn’t do to start thinking that way, so she pulled out the handbook and reviewed some of the precepts she had read the night before.

I can’t believe they don’t eat any meat here. Honestly, that’s the most shocking thing. So what if they feel the need to keep their men and women separate? Alright, so forehead ribbons are really meaningful. No alcohol in the Cloud Recesses, fine. But no meat, ever? I’ll starve before I’m found out as a girl!

Lamenting her impending death by starvation, Xia Luo hadn’t seen Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi approach her.

“Good morning, Xia Luo,” greeted Lan Sizhui. “Did you settle in alright last night? Oh, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said when he saw her jerk her head up.

“Mn,” she replied.

“Wow, you’re just as studious as Sizhui!” remarked Lan Jingyi, pointing at the handbook she had been reading. “You know, I don’t think even I’ve read all —”

“Jingyi,” interrupted Lan Sizhui, shushing him. “Best not to say that out loud.” He turned back to Xia Luo. “I don’t think we’ve ever had someone from the Xia family come to study here.”

“Mn.”

They didn’t have time to ask her any more questions, however, because Lan Qiren entered the room and promptly began class.

* * * * *

“That was so much information,” said one of the boys after class. “My head already feels so full. How will we do a whole year like that?”

“It was just as dry as my older brother said it would be,” remarked another. “He came here some years back and warned me it would be like this. I don’t know how Lan Qiren doesn’t put himself to sleep,” he added in a whisper.

Xia Luo walked quietly a few paces behind the group. Watching these boys interact made her feel like an imposter. She felt like an outsider despite how easily they seemed to buy into her act. To them, she was just another boy.

In class Xia Luo had sat upright and written her responses in her neatest handwriting. She had earned a grain of praise from Lan Qiren for her efforts, and this brought a small sense of relief that at least she would be a worthwhile student for him.

If nothing else, no one will be able to say that I wasn’t good enough in class. I won’t give them any reason to fault me.

“Who do you think will rank first among the young masters this year?” asked one of the boys.

“I don’t know, why? Are you hoping to place in the top five?” said another.

“It’s a silly ranking that the girls do,” said a third boy, “so why bother with it at all?”

“You wouldn’t place anyway, so no wonder you think it’s not worth paying attention to,” quipped another boy. “It matters because it tells the overall impression of who’s up-and-coming. Besides, it’s not something that just the girls do.”

“Naturally, Lan Sizhui and Jin Ling will be at the top. That Ouyang Clan heir will probably place, too,” said a fourth boy. “The heirs to clans always place.”

“Well, yeah, that’s because they get the best training from an early age. It would be embarrassing if they didn’t place!” another boy added.

“Nie Huaisang was an heir but didn’t place when he was here as a disciple,” remarked the boy who had started the conversation.

“Yeah, but he didn’t even develop a golden core then, so he was never really in the running, anyway,” one boy said before his companion elbowed him in the side. “Hey, what was that for?” he asked, indignant.

His companion looked at Xia Luo and then back to him with a meaningful look. “Isn’t he from the Nie Clan?” he whispered.

Xia Luo’s stomach did a flip. Although she hadn’t taken part in the conversation, she had heard everything they said. Some of the boys looked over at her to see if they recognized her, but it was the boy from the Qin Clan that spoke up.

“He’s from the Xia family,” he said, then looked back at Xia Luo. “I think Lan Sizhui said your uncle was Nie Mingjue’s advisor, right?”

Xia Luo swallowed hard, then nodded. The boys said some things amongst themselves, but Xia Luo’s blood was pounding too hard in ears for her to hear them.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” said one of the boys to Xia Luo. It was only his approach that made her realize he was there. “Nie Huaisang is your rightful clan leader and all.” The boy looked mildly sheepish, and although Xia Luo hadn’t caught the first part of what he’d said, she was able to infer from the second. She nodded at him and saw him relax, and in a few moments, the boys got back to their discussion.

Xia Luo let her thoughts drift while the boys argued amongst themselves who had the most talent and the best looks. She had really thought she’d been recognized, not as a girl, but as Nie Mingjue’s child. It took a minute before she reminded herself that no one would ever guess such a thing because no one knew that Nie Mingjue had ever sired a child in the first place. The boy wasn’t nervous about what he said because he thought Nie Huaisang was her uncle, but simply because he was her clan leader. Xia Luo turned her head away from the group and visibly tried to relax her face, but that action brought up another round of thoughts.

She had studied Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi’s faces in class, and their profiles came to her mind now. It was the first time she had gotten to observe the details of a boy's face, and she had been set on identifying the differences between them and her. What makes a boy’s face boyish, and what makes people think that I look like that? I may have been raised like a boy, but I’m definitely a girl.

Xia Shunchao’s voice cut through her thoughts: “Do you really think you would be taken for a girl?”

Given the way the boys thus far had taken her to be one of them, she could only push her mother’s voice from her head with a rush of anger.

“Hey, Xia Luo, are you joining us?” asked one of the Yao boys, snapping her back to the present.

They had made it back to the dormitory without her noticing. The Yao disciple had the door to his room propped open and Xia Luo could hear the voices of some of the other boys already inside. She shook her head and quickly turned to leave, her chest tight.

In her room, Xia Luo opened up the bags that she had neglected to unpack the night before. She had collapsed in bed after washing off and had fallen into a deep, somewhat troubled sleep. Now, she pulled what little she had opted to bring with her from her travel bags and laid out the assortment on the bed. Tucked in between the layers of linen underclothes was a small, polished bronze mirror.

With the image of Lan Sizhui in her head, Xia Luo scrutinized her own face to find the similarities.

Both his and my eyebrows are thicker than how Muqin and the maids kept theirs , she noted. Muqin used to thin her brows a bit, but she never let me do that. Mm, our jawlines are well-defined. Muqin had a softer look, I think. Xia Luo recalled Xia Shunchao making her chew on bamboo, saying that she needed to strengthen her jaw. Could it have shaped my jawline somehow?

With a start, Xia Luo tipped her head up and felt along her throat. I don’t have that bump that they have. Do all boys have that? Jiujiu had it, but Muqin certainly didn’t. I’ll have to look at the others to find out.

Pausing for a moment, Xia Luo took in the entirety of her appearance in the mirror. One hand raised to feel along her jaw and chin, then to touch the angles of her cheekbones and brows. When she lowered her hand, two bright eyes peered back at her from behind a curtain of bangs. Would anyone see me as a girl? she wondered. Caught under the layers of hurt, a small voice asked if it would be a bad thing if they did, but it was too deeply buried to be heard.

Chapter Text

Xia Luo had been in a state of anxiety all week. She might have discovered that not all boys had visible lumps in their throats, but that wasn’t enough to ease her nerves. She was exhausted from constantly monitoring her actions and mannerisms, and her mind was always turning. No matter what she did, she felt wired and on edge, and since she had committed herself to being a top performer, she gave everything she had in class and had nothing left for anything else. Lan Jingyi had poked fun at her after dinner the night before for looking like she could fall asleep on her feet. On top of her exhaustion, which Lan Sizhui said could be exacerbated by the high altitude, she was irritated to find that she was always hungry.

Needless to say, the food in the Cloud Recesses certainly came short of meeting her expectations for what a sustaining meal would be. Already she daydreamed about the pork dumplings from home, even though she told herself not to think of the Xia estate as home anymore. To add to her hardships, Xia Luo could feel her joints aching as she continued to grow. Even though she was tall for her age, and especially so for a girl, it was like watching a bamboo shoot after the rain. So long as it’s only vertical growth, I guess it’s fine , she thought. It wouldn’t do to start developing a womanly figure now, of all times . Regardless, she took the precaution of wrapping her chest just in case teenage boys and flat-chested girls looked different. It wasn’t like she would know, having never encountered a shirtless boy before, but she’d rather explain a chest wrap than a physical difference should the situation arise.

Today the new disciples would take their first lessons in weapons training with their Lan teachers. It was the first time this week they would get to wield their swords, and the energy buzzing around them was palpable. Lan Qiren had said that taking the first week to get acquainted with the daily rhythm of the Cloud Recesses was beneficial to their continued studies there, but Xia Luo had watched the boys become more and more restless with each day that passed. Now, finally, the boys would get to stretch their legs and do more than work their intellectual capacities.

Like the others, Xia Luo also welcomed the break from the classroom. Her mind was full to bursting with the new information she was gleaning from class and her hand was stiff from taking down careful notes in the most perfect calligraphy.

On their way from the Orchid Room that afternoon, Xia Luo overheard some of the boys discussing cultivation methods and how Lan Sizhui was learning the Lan techniques of playing the guqin. Xia Luo had heard about Hanguang-jun’s guqin skills before, but she had never put too much thought into the idea of cultivating on an instrument other than a guqin. Although she was a skilled hulusi player herself, her spiritual cultivation efforts had always been directed at her sword, so there had been a delineation in her mind between the two practices.

Having made it to the training grounds, the boys split up to talk and let loose a bit before the lessons began.

In the week that had passed since she arrived, little groups had already formed between the guest disciples and the pre existing Lan disciples. The boys that had tagged along with Xia Luo had stuck together and drawn in a few Lan boys, and the second group of guest disciples had pulled in a few Lans as well. There were Lans that hung around the periphery and joined either group at times, but Xia Luo had established some distance between herself and the others. That said, the boys from the group she tagged along with would look behind them to make sure she was still there, so she felt like it was no bother that she followed them. She wondered if it was natural that groups formed so quickly and became so rigid, and if this was how people made friends.

Although Qin Kaibo and the Yao boys always invited Xia Luo to come along with them, she often kept to the outer edge of the group and simply observed. She wasn’t used to being around a lot of people, let alone people her own age. Even if she hadn’t been invited, she wouldn’t have minded. The less she had to directly interact with the boys, the better. Besides, she was perfectly used to being on her own. That said, Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui seemed to have taken an interest in her company, so they were often around when not otherwise occupied elsewhere in the Cloud Recesses. 

Today, it was Lan Jingyi who trotted up first to greet her at the edge of the training ground.

“Hey, Xia Luo!” he greeted, all smiles. Xia Luo got the impression that he would always opt to be carefree rather than serious, if given the chance. She dipped her head at him in greeting.

“You know, it’s so weird having a totally silent friend. I was hoping to get someone else who would laugh and make jokes since Sizhui can be so proper,” he said, his hands on his hips.

Is this really how people make friends? If we’re actually friends, then it seems like it’s something that just sort of happens.

“There’s a time and place for jokes and laughter,” said Lan Sizhui as he came to join them. “You happen to engage in both at the wrong times.” Even though his words were formal, Xia Luo could tell he was poking fun at his friend.

“Ah, you’re just too serious. That’s what happens when you’re Hanguang-jun’s disciple,” he said, looking at Xia Luo like he was telling her a big secret.

“Xia Luo, we get to see you use your sword today,” said Lan Sizhui. “Were you taught saber techniques?”

“Mn.”

“This should be interesting, then!” said Lan Jingyi. “We don’t have any saber instructors, and your blade is technically a sword, anyway. Have you ever trained sword techniques?”

Xia Luo frowned and thought about it. Although she had never had a sword master besides her uncle, she couldn’t be certain if her uncle hadn’t taught her any sword techniques. She gave a light shrug.

“How don’t you know? How’d you even end up with this blade, anyway?” asked Lan Jingyi, incredulous. “I’m sure I’d know if I’d ever been taught saber techniques!”

“We’ll find out during drills, I’m sure. The two styles are quite different from each other and focus on drawing power from different places. Actually,” said Lan Sizhui after a second thought, “take a stance. Jingyi, you do it, too.”

Lan Jingyi drew his sword and waited for Xia Luo to do the same. “I don’t want you to copy my stance just to trick us,” he said, grinning.

Xia Luo took her usual stance and gripped the hilt. Where Lan Jingyi held his slender blade with only one hand, she held hers in both.

“Go through the first set, but do it slowly,” instructed Lan Sizhui.

The two moved through the set, and with each step and pass of her blade, Xia Luo could feel her body start to relax. It really did feel good to be up and moving.

“The sets were practically the same in flow, but totally different in technique,” said Lan Sizhui when they finished. “You shouldn’t have a problem using saber techniques in practice, since the foundations are similar. I’m thinking it will come down to a difference in speed and strength once we start sparring,” said Lan Sizhui. “Jingyi, could you do the set again, but at full speed this time?”

“Sure!” said Lan Jingyi. Xia Luo watched his blade dart back and forth as he swung and lunged, the hand not holding the sword used either as an aide or a counterbalance depending on the need. When he was done, Lan Sizhui nodded at Xia Luo.

“Strike with intention,” came Xia Gongmin’s voice in her ear. “One strike should be all it takes.”

Xia Luo lunged into the set, her face perfectly calm as she struck at the air like it was a fierce corpse. When her left hand wasn’t gripped around the hilt of the sword, it was pressed against the flat length of the blade to charge it with greater force for the next movement or to guide it through a powerful sweep. She finished with a short exhalation, then sheathed her sword.

Both of the Lan boys looked slightly taken aback.

“Who did you say your father was, again?” askedd Lan Jingyi.

Lan Sizhui coughed to clear his throat. “Xia Luo was raised and taught by his uncle, Xia Gongmin, chief advisor to Chifeng-zun,” he said. “It’s no wonder the style would look so similar,” he added with a pointed look at Lan Jingyi.

“Mm, right! Well, whoever your father was, he must have been impressive, too. How are you younger than us?” Lan Jingyi mused, his voice raised in indignation. For a moment Xia Luo thought he was actually upset, but she realized a moment later that he was just playing. “You’re taller than me already, and you can put that much force behind a hit.” He shook his head. “Some people,” he said.

Lan Sizhui smiled at Xia Luo. “I hope that when you’re cleared to go on Night Hunts, that you would consider joining Jingyi and myself. We’d be able to take you with us without taking a master along, and I have no doubt you’d be able to to keep up with us. In fact, I feel like we’d learn something from you.” His tone was lighthearted and carried with it a hint of laughter.

Xia Luo dipped her head in agreement. Staying close with these Lans might be best. She glanced over at the other guest disciples who were currently making jokes and fooling around. Better to stay close with the people hosting me than anyone else.

Finally, the instructor for that day’s lesson arrived and started to run the group of guest disciples through some basic drills to assess where they were in their training. Xia Luo watched the first group run their drills with great interest, having never seen people fight with sword techniques before. Even though these were just drills, she was keen to identify the weak points and openings in certain movements, as well as to note the strengths.

It will be interesting when we have to partner and spar with one another. I wonder if any of these boys have fought against someone who fights with saber techniques. Maybe we’ll each be just as confused as the other when we cross blades. Though now that I get to watch them, I can see where Jiujiu must have adapted some of the saber techniques to suit my sword.

When the first group finished, Xia Luo and her group walked out to take their places. Conscious of how different her approach to the movements was compared to the others, Xia Luo put in extra effort to show off the art that went into wielding a saber. Even though most people regarded saber as a barbaric weapon only wielded by butchers, Xia Gongmin had always taught his niece to dance with the blade and wield it with honor. “The founders of the Nie Clan might have been butchers, but our fighting style does not need to stay mired in that state. The saber can be an honorable weapon, just as a sword can be less than a gentleman’s weapon,” he had said.

With her uncle’s voice in her ear, Xia Luo finished the drills and refocused her eyes, her sword sliding easily back into its scabbard. To the side, the group of disciples who had already performed their drills stared at her and whispered to each other. Just above their whispers, Xia Luo could hear Lan Jingyi’s voice.

“Wow, that was almost elegant ,” he said. “Can that really be the same technique? I mean, when we saw Nie –” he said, but was cut off by Lan Sizhui.

“Everyone approaches a technique with their own style,” said Lan Sizhui. “It’s interesting to see how saber can be something beautiful.” His tone was light, but his expression carried a hint of warning. Lan Jingyi snapped his mouth shut and looked abashed.

“Alright,” said the instructor, “enough talk. Let’s begin the lesson.”

If having attention brought to her during sword practice made her sweat from stress, then getting to lose herself in the movements helped dispel that unpleasantness. The rest of the practice went smoothly, mostly because Xia Luo was so intent on observing the teacher and the newness of sword techniques.

How did Jiujiu manage to adapt saber techniques to suit my sword? Even though Yongyao is a sword, I don’t think the boys would find it an easy transition if they tried to wield it.

Walking back from the training grounds, most of the boys were chatting and enjoying the release of energy that came from swinging their swords. Even though many of them had watched Xia Luo during the training session with curiosity, they hadn’t said anything to her even after the lesson ended. That changed now that Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, and the other Lan boys had peeled off to go wash and dress in their own quarters so it was just the guest disciples left walking the rest of the way back to the dormitories.

“Hey, Xia Luo,” said a boy who was walking behind her, “you’re from the Nie Clan, but you don’t have a saber. How come?”

Xia Luo had started to turn around to face him, but when she heard his question she almost turned back around right away. She didn’t have the answer, and getting asked the same question over and over was starting to grate on her nerves. Besides Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi asking, some of the other boys had asked at various points during the week. Unable to respond, she looked away and gave a soft grunt.

“Yeah, it’s kind of weird,” said another boy with bushy eyebrows. “I’ve never seen a Nie disciple with a sword instead of a saber.”

“Xia Luo didn’t train in the Unclean Realm, right Xia Luo?” said Qin Kaibo.

Xia Luo recognized the help and seized it, nodding.

“Then how are you even cultivating and using their techniques?” said the first boy. Qin Kaibo started to respond, but they had made it to the dormitories by then and Xia Luo lengthened her stride to leave them behind.

There’s no point in sticking around , she thought. They’ll just start to speculate, and I don’t want to hear what they come up with. More than anything, she didn’t want to have more ideas put into her head about why she was given a sword. They don’t even know the worst part of it , she thought with a huff. She shut down the next thought before it could voice itself in her head and closed herself in her room.

* * * * *

“We made it through our first week!” crowed Yao Nuanqing.

Sure enough, the guest disciples had made it to their first day of rest and had been granted permission to explore the town of Gusu. After Xia Luo had hurried away when the boys brought up her lack of a saber, they had kept any further comments and questions to themselves. It was obvious Xia Luo didn’t want to engage in talk about herself, and she wouldn’t have been able to respond anyhow. That said, they still invited her out with them to take part in the celebration of surviving their first week in the Cloud Recesses.

“I want to eat a huge lunch,” said the boy with bushy eyebrows. “These Lan meals don’t make me feel full at all!”

“That’s probably because there’s no flavor,” said Qin Kaibo. “I could definitely go for something flavorful.” He was just about to ask if everyone was ready for lunch when he was interrupted by the sound of someone’s stomach growling loudly. “Eh, who was that?” he asked, laughing. “I guess that settles it! Let’s get lunch!”

How embarrassing, thought Xia Luo. I would give my left pinky for a proper lunch, but no one needs to know that. Silently, she berated her stomach for nearly betraying her.

The boys found a place to eat outside and ordered whatever sounded the most flavorful. Each one had ordered something for themselves and something to share with the others, so Xia Luo followed their example and selected an additional plate. When the food came some time later, the table looked like it was set for a feast laden with various plates, bowls, and platters.

Given the large amount of food and the number of people, two waitresses attended to their table. One was thin and short while the other was plump and of average height, but given the similarities of their facial features they must have been sisters. Xia Luo watched them over her bowl of spicy pork soup. She watched them smile and lean in towards the boys when they asked them questions, and she watched how they folded forward slightly and tipped their heads when they laughed. The boys’ movements, on the other hand, were not nearly so restrained as they laughed and spoke garrulously, their gestures taking up the space around them without hesitation.

“Let me take that for you,” said the shorter waitress, who was now standing right beside Xia Luo.

Startled, Xia Luo blinked and put down her bowl which she only then realized was empty.

“It must have been good,” the girl said with a giggle. “Would this young master like another bowl?”

Xia Luo felt her face flush at the address. She shook her head, but it was too late; the boys had noticed the attention she was getting and couldn’t help but jump on the chance to poke some fun.

“Does this young master have a name?” the girl asked, tipping forward almost imperceptibly. The boys all laughed and began to carouse.

“That’s Xia Luo,” said Yao Nuanching. “Good luck getting a word out of him, though. He’s sworn a vow of silence.”

“A vow of silence? What could a young master your age have sworn a vow of silence for?” the girl asked, her eyes wide.

“Hey, ladies, tell you what!” piped one of the boys. “We’ll tip you really well if you can get Xia Luo to break his vow!”

The plump waitress came over to join her sister, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. She leaned over Xia Luo to block her into her seat on one side and held her tray out to block her on the other. Xia Luo’s face drained of its color before it went red which sent the boys into a fit.

“I know what all young masters like,” the girl cooed, her face close enough to Xia Luo’s that she could feel the warmth of her breath. All of the boys went quiet and leaned in to hear what she was going to say. “All young masters like food served to them by a pretty girl,” she said, plucking something deftly from the table with a pair of chopsticks.

Xia Luo had already pressed herself against the back of her chair as far as she could go, but now there was a steaming dumpling held mere centimeters from her lips.

“Jiejie!” the other girl cried, her voice an equal mix of laughter and indignation. “If Muqin sees this she’ll lose her mind! Leave the poor boy alone!”

Instead of helping, the girl’s intervention only added fuel to the flames of the boys’ delight. Hearing Xia Luo referred to as a “poor boy” after seeing the strength of her swordsmanship the day before was really too much for them.

Xia Luo was miserable. Miss, if only you knew it was a girl you were pestering, you’d surely be mortified. But the girl had no way of knowing the mistake she was making, and so Xia Luo had to bear it alone. She wanted to push her chair back and bolt, but she had the feeling that doing so would make an even bigger scene than it already was.

“I’ll tell you what,” the plump waitress said, leaning in closer so her chest hovered over Xia Luo’s. “All you have to do is ask me nicely to go away, and I’ll not only go away, but I’ll bring you another bowl of that soup. You like it spicy, don’t you?” she teased, her lips curling upwards.

The boys lost it. Qin Kaibo tried to speak up in Xia Luo’s defense, but his face was as red from laughter as Xia Luo’s was from embarrassment.

Weighing out her options, Xia Luo took the desperate measure. Like lightning, she grabbed the dumpling from the girl and stuffed it into her mouth whole.

The girls’ curling lips formed a circle as she gasped. Her sister covered her own mouth with her hands, and the boys went silent. For a moment, everything was still. Xia Luo did her best to shift the dumpling in her mouth so she could breathe properly and managed to shoot a glare at the girl whose body was still hovering so close to her own. And then the spell broke.

Anyone walking by the restaurant at that moment would have been scared by the sudden riotous explosion of hollering as the boys all spoke and laughed at once.

Xia Luo turned her head away from the waitress and chewed on the dumpling, her eyes betraying her anger at being made to look so foolish. As she chewed, her anger solidified and turned into resolve. She looked up at the waitress, her eyes daring her to keep standing over her.

The waitress blinked in shock, then quickly stepped back. Her sister came up to her side and started apologizing on her behalf, but Xia Luo had already pulled coins from her sleeve to pay for her meal. Without a second glance at either of them, Xia Luo left the restaurant, ignoring Qin Kaibo who called after her.

Fuming, flustered, and humiliated, Xia Luo cursed the turn of events that led to her not even getting to enjoy a proper lunch. She used my own dumplings, the ones that I ordered! She turned onto the main street that would lead back to the Cloud Recesses, her fists clenched in her sleeves.

Ahead of her, Lan Jingyi nudged Lan Sizhui when he spotted her walking along. “Isn’t that Xia Luo? Didn’t he go out with a group for lunch?”

Lan Sizhui could see immediately that something was wrong. “Hey, Xia Luo!” he called. He smiled when Xia Luo looked up, but the dark expression on her face made him anxious. “Where is the group you went out with? Did something happen?” he inquired, stopping in front of her.

Xia Luo clenched her jaw and looked at the ground. What just happened? If I could tell you, what would I even say?

“Is anyone hurt?” Lan Sizhui asked. Xia Luo shook her head. “That’s good. Are you alright?” he asked. Seeing her pause before shaking her head, he looked to Lan Jingyi.

“Did you eat yet?” Lan Jingyi asked. “We were just about to get some lunch if you want to join us. Actually, you probably should join us, since you shouldn’t be out in town on your own.” Lan Sizhui nodded in agreement.

Seeing she had no choice and that the two Lans were helping her avoid breaking a rule, Xia Luo nodded, though her appetite was gone. Fortunately, the Lan boys were easy company and talked about little nothings until Xia Luo was able to calm down enough to eat. After that, she took part in their conversation by nodding or shaking her head as needed and in this way she came to trust Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi just a little bit. Whenever a moment of discomfort would arise during their conversations, they would simply steer away from the topic and not push her to answer. Unlike the other boys who seemed to enjoy chaotic interactions, Lan Sizhui had no problem matching Xia Luo’s reserved demeanor, and Lan Jingyi was considerate despite his excitable and loud personality.

* * * * *

After the debacle in town that first week, Xia Luo’s time in the Cloud Recesses was peaceful. The boys had apologized to her for putting her on the spot and making things awkward, and she had accepted their apology on account of simply moving forward. Although she wouldn’t accept their invitations into town anymore, she did join them whenever they went to work out, went for walks, or went to the training grounds. While the boys would engage in various exercises, Xia Luo would often be found holding her handstands off to the side where she could still listen to what the boys were talking about. On walks, she would usually stroll along at the back of the group with her hands tucked into her sleeves so she could take in the tranquil beauty of the scenery without worrying about anyone walking into her. In the training grounds, the boys usually left a wide space open for her to use on her own. All in all, she kept to herself within the group, and the group was good about including her without forcing her to actively participate.

On days off, Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui had taken to inviting her out if they weren’t busy with other duties. If they couldn’t accompany her into town, Xia Luo would take the day to herself and spend time in the Library Pavillion. She had never seen such a massive library before, nor had she ever had access to such a large variety of texts. Although she didn’t agree with the segregation between the sexes or the clan’s vegetarianism, she couldn’t deny that those who were academically inclined would never need to go elsewhere for their studies. Truly, the Cloud Recesses was an intellectual’s paradise.

For those days off where Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi were occupied – and even on those days where they were absent from class because of an assignment – Xia Luo could always count on them to regale her with tales of their mission when they returned. Since Lan Sizhui had been trained personally by Lan Wangji, and because Lan Jingyi was his closest friend, the two of them were trusted more than most of the other young Lan disciples to take care of investigations.

It was in this way that Xia Luo passed the first month in the Cloud Recesses with relative ease once the initial anxiety of being discovered had lessened. While she still monitored her behavior closely, she no longer read into every comment or action directed at her as one made out of suspicion. She had developed a routine and enjoyed the comfort of sticking to it, although the boys did occasionally poke fun at her about it saying she was like an old man who had found his favorite bowl and spoon and refused to eat with anything else. As to the food, Xia Luo took her meals with only the barest trace of a grimace, since no matter how hard she tried she could not forget what good food tasted and felt like. She often went to bed daydreaming about all the different fillings she would put in dumplings, wantons, and buns.

But if food was her biggest complaint, then those around her could find even less to complain about her. Xia Luo was proving to be a hard worker, a diligent student, a skilled swordsman, and a model guest disciple. She approached every task without the slightest air of displeasure or inconvenience, and though she had not bonded with anyone in particular, she had not made any enemies either. For the Lan Clan members, seeing this tall teenager living with such practiced ease was almost uncanny, and more than a few individuals drew comparisons to Hanguang-jun’s disposition. After hearing of the similarities drawn between this guest disciple and his husband, Wei Wuxian decided to look into the matter himself so he could report back to Lan Wanji.

“Eh, Lan Zhan,” he said one day after observing Xia Luo from afar. “You know the Nie disciple, Xia Luo?”

“Mn,” said Lan Wangji as he continued grading papers.

“I was watching him these last few days and noticed something strange,” he said.

“Leave him alone,” Lan Wangji said. “Do not interfere.”

Wei Wuxian propped his elbows on the table where Lan Wangji was writing. “No, you have to listen. I was watching him and realized that it’s not just silence that he’s holding onto, but distance from the others.”

“Some people like peace and quiet,” said Lan Wangji.

“No, but it’s like he’s put himself into seclusion,” said Wei Wuxian, his chin now cupped in one hand. “Even when he’s with the others, it’s like he’s not really there.”

“His grades are stellar. He must be immersed in his studies.”

“Lan Zhan, you’re not listening,” whined Wei Wuxian. “I overheard the boys talking, and they’re saying that Xia Luo must be the second corpse whose consciousness I restored.” This got Lan Wangji’s attention. “Yeah, that’s right,” Wei Wuxian continued. “They say that it’s uncanny how he goes through each day without much variation in mood or anything and only comes to life when practicing with his sword.”

“Nonsense,” said Lan Wangji.

“It’s not nonsense. Well, maybe the bit about him being a corpse, but not the bit about how nothing seems to sway him. Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian prodded, leaning over the desk to get in the way of Lan Wangji’s brush, “you used to be like that, and there was definitely something weird going on with you.”

Lan Wangji set his brush down and looked up. “Wei Ying, do not meddle with the disciples. Xia Luo is a model student. That is not strange.”

Wei Wuxian pouted. “You’re only saying that because you don’t see what was so weird about you as a teenager.”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji’s voice was firm and left no more room for debate.

“Ah, fine, fine. I’ll leave it for now, but I’m telling you, there’s something off about him.”

Chapter Text

The peace Xia Luo had found in her month at the Cloud Recesses did not last. Just as the weather was beginning to turn warmer, so too did things take a turn for Xia

Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi had taken her into town one day to get lunch and tell her about their latest adventure clearing some spirits from a woman’s root cellar when they overheard some excited chatter among a group of Gusu residents.

“That’s not possible, he never married,” said a very short man who was among the group.

“That’s right, he never took a wife, and he wasn’t one for those places,” said a woman.

“Sure, that’s what we were all told, but this is the latest news,” insisted a middle-aged man who must have started the conversation.

“Hey, what are they talking about?” Lan Jingyi asked. Lan Sizhui and Xia Luo both shrugged. Xia Luo was too occupied with her food to pay the gossips much attention, and Lan Sizhui wasn’t interested in pointless gossip, either. Xia Luo continued munching her way through her pork dumplings and stayed busy deciding if she liked these ones better than the ones she got the last time they were in town. She didn’t hear any of the crowd’s conversation.

“Why would this information just be coming out?” asked the short man. “It sounds like it’s made up by someone looking for attention.”

“It would seem that way, but it turns out there’s signed paperwork!” said the middle-aged man.

“Signed paperwork? What kind of paperwork?” asked the woman. “Does it say who the mother is, or was that never disclosed?”

“It’s gotta say who the mother is, or else it wouldn’t matter much, would it? I mean, it’s gotta be paperwork between him and the mother, right?” commented another man in the crowd.

“It’s an agreement between him and the mother’s brother,” clarified the middle-aged man. “Apparently it was an agreement on who was going to raise the kid.”

“Wait, you said ‘apparently’. Is this just hearsay?” said a woman who had also been listening.

“Yeah, who’d you hear this from?” pressed another.

“I just came from Qinghe,” the middle-aged man said, defending himself and his claim. “I’m telling you what I heard; it’s all anyone’s talking about over there!”

Lan Jingyi, ever the busy-body, couldn’t take it anymore. Having finished his meal, he walked over to the crowd and poked his head in. “Excuse me, but what exactly are you talking about? Did you mention Qinghe?” he asked.

Xia Luo’s ears pricked at the name of the Nie Clan’s capitol, but she still didn’t care enough to listen to people’s gossip. She already got to hear enough minor gossip from the other disciples everyday whenever they weren’t in class. Lan Sizhui had gotten up, however, and since she had also finished her meal, Xia Luo decided it was best to follow along after him.

“Oh, young master!” said the middle-aged man to Lan Jingyi. “You must have already heard, since it probably concerns you cultivators, but there’s big news from Qinghe.”

“What’s the big news?” asked Lan Jingyi, excited. He turned to Lan Sizhui. “We haven’t heard much from Qinghe since the whole thing with Nie Huaisang.” Lan Sizhui nodded in acknowledgement.

“Ah, there are a few of you here,” the man said once he spotted Xia Luo behind the other two. “It’s not just a rumor, I’ll have you know! Word has reached the Nie Clan leader, Nie Huaisang, and he’s affirmed the truth of it!”

“The truth of what, sir?” asked Lan Sizhui, bemused.

“So you haven’t heard, then?” the man asked, suddenly pleased to know he had news to share with these young cultivators. “Why, the late Nie Mingjue had a child – a son – and he’s just come of age and is at the Cloud Recesses!”

Xia Luo, who had just determined that the dumplings from the previous restaurant were better, felt her heart freeze.

“What, no way!” exclaimed Lan Jingyi, his voice one among many in the crowd who were in disbelief. “Chifeng-zun never had children!”

“That’s what we all thought, but we were wrong! It turns out he had a child in secret, or at the very least under mysterious circumstances, and now that child is out in the world! According to the paperwork that’s been pushed out, the boy should be about fifteen years old now,” the man said. “What’s more, we even know who raised him!”

Lan Jingyi was riled up with disbelief and awe. “Who was it? What’s their name?” he demanded.

The whole crowd was buzzing with excitement now. The idea that the late Nie clan leader had had a child was big news.

“Hey, if he really had a son,” one of the men cut in, “then that means the son is the next heir to the Nie Clan!”

“Only if he’s legitimate or at least recognized officially,” someone else chimed. The crowd all vocalized their thoughts on the matter, but finally someone hushed them and reiterated Lan Jingyi’s question. Lan Sizhui’s body tensed with each statement from the crowd like he was bracing for a physical blow.

“The man’s name is Xia Gongmin, and the son’s name is Xia Luo,” the man said, relieved to have finally gotten his answer out. “Say, young masters, have you met this boy? Is he really at the Cloud Recesses?”

Xia Luo felt like she was coming out of her own skin as she stumbled backwards a few steps. Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi turned to look at her, shock written all over Lan Jingyi’s face and a strange sort of resolve on Lan Sizhui’s. Xia Luo started shaking her head before they even made eye contact.

No. No. This can’t be happening. There's no way this is happening. How would word of this get out? No one should know this, it's a secret! Muqin and Jiujiu were so careful to keep this all a secret!

“Young masters?” the middle-aged man asked when he saw them all go tense. “Is something wrong?” he asked. Lan Jingyi was staring at Xia Luo with eyes round as the moon.

“No,” said Lan Sizhui, composing himself quickly. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m sorry, but we have to go. Thank you for sharing your news with us,” he said and took a step towards Xia Luo, his brows knitting together.

The man looked like he wanted to say more, but the crowd closed around him as they demanded more information. He had no other chance to ask if they knew the boy in question before he was completely surrounded.

Xia Luo took a step back when she saw Lan Sizhui step towards her. Her whole body was screaming for her to make a choice, but she didn’t know what to do. The serenity of the Cloud Recesses as a refuge came crashing around her, but even still she ran for its embrace in the end.

Behind her the cries of the Lan boys rang out, but she didn’t stop once in her mortified dash out of town. 

* * * * *

As though pursued by starving tigers, Xia Luo left dust in her wake as she fled. Blind to the beauty of the ascent to the Cloud Recesses, she jumped on her sword and soared as far as the Wall of Discipline before dismounting and rushing the rest of the way into the main grounds. Once there she pulled up short and swallowed down her panic and the taste of bile rising in the back of her throat. With as much composure as she could muster she walked to the dormitory, made it down the hall, and into her room where she shut the door with trembling hands. As soon as the door was shut she plunged her head into the basin of water she had drawn earlier and screamed into it, the water muffling the sound.

She screamed until she had to come up gasping for air. Water streamed down her face and from her now soaking wet hair, her eyes wild. Before the next scream ripped from her throat she plunged her head back into the water. Three more times she repeated this until her screams died in her chest and turned into silent, dry sobs.

Soaked through to the waist, her bangs plastered to her forehead, Xia Luo folded onto the ground and leaned her head against the basin stand.

One of them must have said something. Muqin must have said something , Xia Luo thought in a daze. Her shoulders had stopped shaking and she now sat perfectly still. It was in that state that Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi found her half an incense time later.

With only a cursory knock on her door, the two Lan boys entered the room and froze as they took in the scene. Xia Luo didn’t make any sign that she noticed their entrance, but she was aware of their presence.

I only had to be a boy before, but now… now I have to be his son. I have to be Nie Mingjue’s son. I have to be Chifeng-zun’s bastard son. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I will be tied to your name, and all because of what she did.

The boys’ speech was muted by Xia Luo’s thoughts as she mourned the hit Nie Mingjue’s dignity would take with the exposure of this secret.

It was supposed to be a secret. I was supposed to have a year to prove myself. If I failed, then I would take the hit and no one would know anything of it. But now? Now, everyone will be watching. Everyone will know that Chifeng-zun had a bastard child and they’ll talk about his poor choice. They won’t know what Muqin did. They won’t know the awful thing she did to him.

As the minutes ticked by and Xia Luo stayed inside her own head, a rage that had been buried deep in her heart found purchase and hung on with its claws.

She revealed the secret. No one else would. She knows no one will say anything. She knows I won’t say anything.

The claws curled to grip harder at the edges of her heart as the rage began to pull itself up.

She knows she’s safe. She’s been safe all these years because of Jiujiu’s devotion to his chief’s memory.

A glowing pair of golden eyes blazed on the snarling face that revealed itself. Those twin flames flashed as the beast pulled the rest of its body over the edge and planted its clawed paws firmly on her heart.

She let me take part in the Qingming festivals with Jiujiu because fostering my sense of loyalty to both of them was in her best interest. She let the secret slide to make certain I don’t throw this. She knows I would never say a word.

Striped tail lashing viciously, furious resentment roared within her. On her face, the calm of the last few weeks was replaced by a look of burning devastation. She felt sick to her stomach, the same as she had felt on her birthday when her mother revealed everything to her.

How could I ever call him my father? Who would ever accept a child from such disgraceful origins?

“Xia Luo,” said Lan Jingyi. “Xia Luo!” he repeated, shaking her shoulders. “Snap out of it! What is going on with you? Look at us.”

“Xia Luo, it’s true, then?” said Lan Sizhui. “Is what that man said really true?” he persisted. Although he kept his voice calm, there was a palpable anxiety all around him at seeing her in such a state.

Rage burned in Xia Luo’s eyes. She looked up at them after she managed to process their words and Lan Jingyi’s grip on her shoulders slackened, but despite the look of apprehension that replaced his own anxiety, he still held on.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Lan Jingyi said. “Being illegitimate isn’t that bad. Sizhui and I won’t judge you, that’s for sure, and none of the other Lans will, either.”

Lan Sizhui was certain that there was more to the situation. Looking at Xia Luo and then at the water splashed on the floor and all over her robes, it was obvious to him that there was something else fueling the reaction.

“Xia Luo, let’s get you some dry robes,” he said, gesturing at Lan Jingyi to help her up. He went over to her wardrobe and pulled out an inner robe and a Lan outer robe. He was surprised to see that besides the Xia robes she had worn to the Cloud Recesses, Xia Luo didn’t have any other clothes. There were plenty of underclothes that she had brought, but usually guest disciples had at least a few changes of their own clan’s robes. When he turned back around, Lan Jingyi was standing next to Xia Luo who had her face buried in a towel. Lan Jingyi looked like he was at a loss as to how to handle the situation.

“Alright. We can step out so you can change, but maybe it would be good if you went to see Hanguang-jun or Lan Qiren afterwards,” said Lan Sizhui. “If there's something that’s really bothering you about this, then they might be able to help.”

Lan Jingyi shot him a look that said he couldn’t believe he would suggest something like that. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he mouthed silently.

Lan Sizhui ignored him. “You know, they both knew Chifeng-zun personally, and –” he stopped mid sentence.

Xia Luo had taken the towel away from her face and was pointing with one hand at the door.

“We’re just trying to help,” said Lan Jingyi in a small voice.

Xia Luo jabbed her finger towards the door and looked up at them with bloodshot eyes.

Lan Jingyi looked like he wanted to argue but backed off instead, and Lan Sizhui decided not to push it.

“Ok, we’ll give you some space,” Lan Sizhui acquiesced. “We’ll come back in a bit, alright?” He didn’t wait for a response as he nudged Lan Jingyi towards the door. “Come on, Jingyi.”

The boys shut the door behind them and Xia Luo hung her head. The towel hung by her side, her grip slack. Now that the rage of the moment had passed, she was exhausted. Without thinking, she made her way over to her bed to sit.

Why would I ever want to talk to people who knew Nie Mingjue personally? How could I possibly face them when I am the physical embodiment of a stain on his character? Next heir to the Nie Clan? Xia Luo snorted at the thought. Please. I’m not a boy, so even if I was legitimate, I still wouldn’t be the next heir. Xia Luo curled her lip at the next thought. Is that what you meant, Muqin, when you said one day people would bow to me? You’re crazy. I won’t pretend forever.

* * * * *

“Do you really think we should tell them?” asked Lan Jingyi as he and Lan Sizhui tried not to rush across the Cloud Recesses.

“Of course we should tell them,” Lan Sizhui said. “Do you know how to handle it on your own?”

“No, it’s just that if I were him, I wouldn’t want my business blasted all over,” Lan Jingyi said.

Lan Sizhui looked thoughtful for a moment. “Telling them is the right choice. They’ll be able to tell us the best way to help Xia Luo. Besides, the news will spread soon enough.”

Before Lan Sizhui could knock on the door, Wei Wuxian opened it and took a step outside. He had a kitchen towel thrown over one shoulder and was wiping sweat from his brow. Judging by the stains of hot chili paste on his sleeves, it seemed he had been cooking something. Upon seeing the boys and their looks of urgency and surprise, he propped an arm against the door frame and greeted them, his voice bright. “Sizhui! Jingyi! What brings you here? Don’t tell me some big catastrophe has happened and you need my help,” he said, smiling wide.

“Wei-qianbei”, greeted Lan Sizhui with a little bow. “It’s not a catastrophe, but we do need your help. Is Hanguang-jun here, too?”

Wei Wuxian quirked an eyebrow. “Is it for a Night Hunt? I didn’t know you had been assigned another one already.”

“No, it’s not for a Night Hunt,” said Lan Sizhui.

“It’s about Xia Luo!” exclaimed Lan Jingyi.

“Xia Luo? The Nie Clan disciple?” said Wei Wuxian. “What could Lan Zhan’s new favorite student have done wrong?” he mused.

“I do not have favorites,” said Lan Wangji as he stepped into view. He looked at Lan Sizhui to speak and was given a brief account of events and the revelations that spurred them, with help from Lan Jingyi who interjected here and there for dramatic effect. When he finished, both Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji stood in silence. It was Wei Wuxian who broke the silence first.

“Wow, who would have thought Chifeng-zun would ever have a kid? You say this information is reliable?” he asked, looking between the two boys.

“I would recommend writing for confirmation from Clan Leader Nie Huaisang, but judging from Xia Luo’s reaction, it would seem to be true,” said Lan Sizhui. “He looked blindsided to hear the news in town, then terrified, then lost when we found him in his room, and then really angry.”

“Angry?” parroted Lan Jingyi with great emotion. “He looked absolutely furious!”

“Yes, but it wasn’t directed at us,” said Lan Sizhui. “There’s definitely something more to the story than what we’re seeing.”

“Of course there is,” said Wei Wuxian. “How exactly did Xia Luo’s mother end up with Chifeng-zun’s child?”

“Don’t make unnecessary speculations,” said Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian shrugged. “Given what we know about Chifeng-zun, there is something that doesn’t add up. Why didn’t news of his son’s existence come out sooner?”

“Could that be why Xia Luo is so angry?” wondered Lan Jingyi. “I mean, it’s true that bastard children don’t have the easiest time. We all saw what happened with…” he trailed off as he thought better about bringing up the past.

“We can’t know what is in his head,” said Lan Wangji.

“That’s right,” said Wei Wuxian. “For now, keep an eye on him and don’t pester him with questions about it. If he doesn’t seem inclined to discuss it — which he can’t really do because of his vow of silence — then leave it be. Ooh,” he said, looking at Lan Wangji with excitement. “How interesting it is that he has a vow of silence.” His eyes twinkled.

Catching on to his husband’s mood, Lan Wangji thanked the juniors and sent them on their way.

“Wei Ying.”

“It’s strange, Lan Zhan, you have to admit it! A secret son, a vow of silence, a leaked secret – it’s too much to not be suspicious! Also,” he said, his demeanor turning serious, “we should tell him.”

Lan Wangji looked away. “There is no need to trouble him with this.”

“Lan Zhan, he should know. Whether or not the kid is legitimate doesn’t change the fact that Xia Luo is his martial nephew,” pressed Wei Wuxian. “He deserves to know.”

“He is in seclusion. He needs time to clear his thoughts.”

“Lan Zhan, it’s not thoughts that need to be cleared, it’s feelings. He’s trapped, just like you were. It took someone else to sort you out properly.”

Lan Wangji blinked. “You flatter yourself.”

“They could help each other!”

“You don’t know that.”

Wei Wuxian pouted. “You really won’t consider it? Make a deal with me, then.” Lan Wangji looked him in the eye. “Let me observe the kid outside of the classroom for a few days, and if he seems like he needs the help, then you’ll go to your brother. Maybe what Xichen needs is a disciple, and maybe this kid needs a mentor. Deal?”

Lan Wangji closed his eyes, but after a moment opened them again. His expression was not one of agreement.

“Fine,” Wei Wuxian said, stepping close to Lan Wangji so he could wrap his arms around his neck. “You don’t trust that I’ll make a fair assessment. Let’s set something more definitive, then, shall we?” Wei Wuxian snaked his way around Lan Wangji and walked one hand down his chest. “How about,” he murmured in Lan Wangji’s ear, “whoever holds out the longest wins. If I win, you tell your brother. If you win, I drop the matter.”

Lan Wangji tensed. “Wei Ying,” he said, his tone stern.

“What?” said Wei Wuxian. “Do you think you’ll lose? Or do you think it’s not a fair bet?” he teased, his hand unwrapping from around Lan Wangji’s neck to trail down his abdomen. “I bet I can outlast you,” he said, eyes squinting into crescents. He knew Lan Wangji couldn’t refuse the bet. If he did, then it would be an open admittance that he himself could not go a single day without their usual intimacy. He knew it would be a challenge for himself, so of course he wanted to see how his husband would handle it.

Lan Wangji stared down Wei Wuxian, then caught his hand before it could go any lower. “Mn,” he said, the sound coming out gruff.

Wei Wuxian grinned and freed his hand. “It’s a deal, then. May the strongest one win!”

* * * * *

In her room, Xia Luo’s wet hair and robes had almost dried completely. She hadn’t moved from her spot on the bed since the boys had left, and although her mind was blank, she burned with wordless anger and hatred. The longer she sat, the more she burned and the blanker her mind went. It was as though her body was humming from the strength of her feelings which made her feel full of static energy, but there was no place for that energy to go. With a sickening lurch like someone had violently rocked a boat she was sitting in, the mounting energy pulsing at her fingertips went looping back through her body and doubled her over so that she slid off the bed. Crumpled on the floor for the second time that day, she spluttered as she choked on the energy that felt trapped everywhere, even in her throat. Once again, it was on the floor that the boys found her.

“Xia Luo!” cried Lan Sizhui as he rushed into her room after getting no response from knocking. He came to crouch by her side, one hand on her back and the other taking a hold of her wrist to check her pulse.

“What happened this time!” cried Lan Jingyi, his eyes full of worry. He saw the robes they had set out for her exactly where they had left them. “You didn’t even change! Hey, is he choking on something?” he said to Lan Sizhui when he saw how red in the face Xia Luo was.

“No, he’s not choking, but he’s definitely struggling to breathe,” said Lan Sizhui.

Sure enough, Xia Luo was drawing in ragged breaths that kept catching in her throat. She had her eyes squeezed shut where tears glistened at the corners, and she had one fist pressed to her chest. With great effort and some time, she managed to steady her breathing as she tried to calm herself. More than anything, the sudden feeling had scared her and made her panic after she slid from the bed. Even though she didn’t want to be around people now that her secret had been revealed, there was no denying that the feeling of Lan Sizhui’s hand pressed against her back was comforting. For a moment, she almost let herself believe it was her uncle comforting her after a bad dream.

“There you go, just calm down and breathe,” instructed Lan Sizhui. “Your spiritual energy feels a bit off,” he said, “so definitely try to calm down.”

It’s not Jiujiu here with me , Xia Luo thought, her mind finally focusing again after being blank. What was that feeling? What brought it about? I’ve never felt something like that before.

“Are you sick, or something?” asked Lan Jingyi, his forehead wrinkled in consternation. “I’ve heard that people can make themselves sick from worrying or from other intense feelings.” He crouched down so he was at eye level with Xia Luo. “I’m sure this feels really overwhelming, but really, we don’t judge you. You might not say anything, but I still think you’re pretty cool. And honestly, I can totally see how Chifeng-zun was your father. I mean, that's based on what I know about him, anyway.”

Xia Luo slowly opened her eyes. When they met Lan Jingyi’s he noticed something in them that he hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t the same as the momentary fury from earlier, but something harder and sharper than that. It was as though that something had etched itself into the backs of her eyes so that even if she were to smile you could still see it there.

Resentment.

Lan Jingyi put a name to what he saw at the same time Xia Luo identified it in herself. He tossed a look over to Lan Sizhui that said he had something to tell him later, then looked back at Xia Luo. “You know,” he said, “maybe we should go for a walk or something, just around the Cloud Recesses. We go back to class tomorrow, so why not stretch our legs? It’s no good just sitting in here.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” agreed Lan Sizhui. “In any case, let’s get you off the floor,” he said, taking Xia Luo by the elbow. This time, Xia Luo didn’t resist his help and she didn’t send them out, either. Instead, she stood, fixed up her hair, and allowed herself to be led outside by the boys. Still recovering from whatever spell she’d suffered and with the fresh discovery of resentment to keep her occupied, she walked alongside the boys with what appeared to be her usual distant ease.

Inside, however, she was in turmoil. She’d never resented anyone before, as she’d never really had a reason. Her mother might have been overbearing and harsh, but she had never given Xia Luo a reason to resent her. But now, things had changed.

“Hey, Xia Luo, the guest disciples should be given their first Night Hunt exercises soon,” said Lan Sizhui.

“That’s right!” exclaimed Lan Jingyi. “The first ones are always really easy assignments, usually to track down and eliminate a spirit or some walking corpses. The teacher will accept the requests he deems appropriate and give them out to the disciples to tackle in groups. Sizhui and I have been doing them for a while now, and we’ve even done some really big cases working with Hanguang-zun and Wei-qianbei. It’ll be fun to take you out on your first one!”

Xia Luo frowned. Aside from the fact that she had been going on Night Hunts with her uncle since she was little, it was the reminder that Wei Wuxian now lived at the Cloud Recesses that elicited the reaction.

“You’ve been on Night Hunts before?” asked Lan Sizhui after noticing her expression.

Xia Luo smoothed out her frown and nodded.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to insult you!” said Lan Jingyi, backtracking quickly. “Usually it’s the sect disciples that go on Night Hunts, so I just assumed —” he trailed off.

Xia Luo only gave a light shrug. It was proving difficult for her to care much for what was happening in the moment when the new taste of resentment was flavoring her entire palate. Although she didn’t like the taste, it was the novelty of it that kept her in its hold.

It’s bitter and slimy like cooked greens, but it fizzes like something fermented , she thought.

Lan Sizhui smiled. “It’s good that Xia Luo doesn’t hold onto grudges, Jingyi, or you’d have certainly earned his ire by now.”

“It’s not like I mean to!” Lan Jingyi protested. He looked over at Xia Luo, but when he saw that she was looking off into the distance while they walked, he looked back at Lan Sizhui instead.

Lan Sizhui shrugged and gave him a look that said to leave it be and that it was good that Xia Luo was up and moving and not just hiding in her room.

“Well, in any case, the upcoming Night Hunt should be a nice change of pace,” Lan Sizhui said. “But first, let’s focus on lessons and making sure you can pass the upcoming test, Jingyi. Have you been studying?”

“What!” Jingyi blustered, his voice loud. He looked around to see if anyone heard his outburst before continuing more quietly. “I forgot we had one coming up. Sizhui, you have to help me study for it, you have to!” After pleading with Lan Sizhui for a bit, he turned to Xia Luo and grasped her sleeve. “Xia Luo, you’ll help me study, won’t you? There are some sequences that I always forget, and I know I always get some of the characters wrong when I’m writing, but you’re so good at memorizing things and writing. You just have to correct my work so I can see what I’ve done wrong!”

“If you know what you’ve done wrong already, then shouldn’t you have the right answers now? Or did you misplace the corrected papers again?” asked Lan Sizhui.

Lan Jingyi looked indignant at being called out, but he still persisted and continued to beseech the pair for their help.

The boys kept Xia Luo by their side for the rest of the day and filled the space with a seemingly endless stream of conversation topics. They made sure to ask her yes or no questions to keep her engaged, but their obvious attempts to distract her from her own thoughts only made her feel worse.

Lying down in bed that night, the medicinal Lan soup from dinner mixed with the taste of resentment in her belly so that her sleep was uneasy and left her tossing and turning.

Chapter Text

In the early mist-filled morning, Lan Sizhui watched Xia Luo from the corner of his eye as she ate. After Lan Jingyi had told him about the resentment he had noticed in Xia Luo’s eyes, Lan Sizhui had been anxious to see it for himself. Given what he knew of resentment as a negative force and what it could do to people, he wanted to see if it was something they should be concerned about. So far, Xia Luo had avoided making eye contact with either of them, and so he was left in suspense.

Lan Jingyi, too, was clearly anxious to hear Lan Sizhui’s verdict on the state of Xia Luo’s emotional wellbeing, but Lan Sizhui was certain that even if he noticed something noteworthy nothing could be done unless Xia Luo was willing to talk about it. Given that she was still resolutely adhering to her vow of silence and didn’t appear to be considering breaking it, the way forward remained unclear. Coming out of his thoughts to focus on his food, he glanced over at Xia Luo and noticed that she hadn’t eaten much. It was a strange sight given how voracious an eater Xia Luo usually was, but considering the shock she had faced the day before it made sense that her appetite would be dampened. Upon a closer look, not only had Xia Luo not eaten much, but she looked bothered by something across from her. Glancing over, Lan Sizhui traced her line of sight to a very antsy Lan Jingyi.

Lan Sizhui hadn’t noticed the jittery bounce of Lan Jingyi’s leg under the table before. With a swift, subtle motion, he tapped his foot against Lan Jingyi’s shin which made him jump in his seat. A few Lan elders looked over and frowned at Lan Jingyi which made him sit still, and Xia Luo stopped staring at him and went back to slowly eating her food.

Outside, Lan Jingyi pulled up close to Lan Sizhui’s side and whispered to him so that Xia Luo, who was walking a handful of steps behind them, couldn’t hear.

“People were watching him, did you see?” he whispered. “If they were allowed to whisper while eating, they would have been! Even some of the elders were looking, which means word got out. Do you think Hanguang-jun said anything?”

Lan Sizhui kept his own voice as low as possible. “I don’t think he would have told anyone. It’s much more likely that others were in town and heard the news themselves. We went out early in the day, which means word would have spread even more widely before anyone had to be back in the Recesses for the night.”

“True. But still, I don’t like it,” said Lan Jingyi, sticking out his bottom lip. “They could be a little less obvious about it, you know?”

“Oh, you mean they could refrain from whispering about someone who’s walking behind them?” Lan Sizhui said, a small smile on his face. Lan Jingyi snapped his mouth shut and looked straight ahead. “I’m just joking with you,” soothed Lan Sizhui. “Anyway, let’s get to class.”

Unlike many of the other disciples, Xia Luo and the Lan boys were not ones to dawdle when showing up for class, so they were among the first to arrive and set up their materials for the day’s lessons. Xia Luo took her usual place at the desk in front of them which left Lan Sizhui with a clear view of her back. Although he had only ever seen Nie Mingjue as a headless fierce corpse, and even though Xia Luo was only a young teenager, it became obvious to him that this boy would grow up into a man much like his father. Lan Sizhui had been stunned by Nie Mingjue’s size and stature and by his seemingly impossible strength, and given Xia Luo’s current physique and strength, it wasn’t unlikely that she could potentially match her father in the future.

Behind them the sound of boys talking as they approached the entrance to the Orchid Room caught his attention, but before he could catch more than a few words their voices died down to less than a whisper. Lan Jingyi who sat beside him turned around to look before making a face. Turning to look as well, Lan Sizhui caught sight of the boys eyeing Xia Luo before elbowing each other and whispering some more. In front of them, Lan Sizhui could see the tendons on the back of Xia Luo’s neck go taught. Thankfully the teacher entered then and any chance of continued whispering came to an end. Lan Sizhui saw Xia Luo relax when the teacher began class without so much as a glance her way.

* * * * *

Xia Luo couldn’t focus. She had woken up that morning in a daze and had gone through breakfast in much the same state. Her head was heavy, her eyes were blurred, and her mind felt like it was full of mud. She had slept terribly and had dreams that, although she couldn’t remember the content, had left her feeling angry and hopelessly sad. At breakfast she had felt as though eyes were constantly flickering on and off of her, a sensation that was only made worse by the irritation of Lan Jingyi’s incessantly bouncing leg.

Even though Xia Luo completed her exam, her participation in the lessons was shoddy at best. When every scratch of someone’s quill sounded like a whisper about her, concentrating on the lesson was a nigh impossible task. She could feel eyes on her from her peers, and the more she felt them staring the more she tried to retreat into herself. She didn’t want to be seen, to be noticed, to be perceived. She cursed her body for how much space it took up and her calligraphy for how much it looked like his. She couldn’t hide and she couldn’t disguise herself, so she was left to endure the darting eyes that landed on her and the weight they carried for the entirety of class. Twice the teacher had to call her attention back to the lesson when her responses failed to appear on the sheet that was connected to hers by the duplication spell. Worse still was feeling Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi’s eyes on her back; the mixture of curiosity, protectiveness, and pity weighed her down like a wet blanket.

Walking to sword practice gave her no respite, since the boys all tended to walk down as a large group, and even though they were mostly silent, it was a silence that indicated they were busy making observations. Once again Xia Luo felt their eyes on her. She clenched her fists in her flowing, white sleeves and kept her gaze down. Lan Sizhui had been trying to make eye contact with her all day which she resisted at every turn. Hearing and feeling what was going on around her was enough, she didn’t want to see it, too.

When training began after what felt to Xia Luo like an eternity of standing around waiting for the teacher, she moved without her usual passion or fire. Her movements were accurate thanks to her strict training from a young age, but Xia Gongmin’s words reminding her to make every move a killing blow didn’t reach her ears. It was clear that she was bothered, but if she thought about the obviousness of it she only got angrier.

If it’s so obvious that I’m upset, then just look away. There’s nothing to see. I’m nothing to look at.

No matter what she thought, however, the boys certainly thought there was plenty to look at and see. Over the next few days, the looks and the comments continued, the whispers got louder, and the speculations got wilder. As the boys got closer to their first Night Hunt, the prospect of seeing Nie Mingjue’s bastard son in action was too much to keep silent about, and while no one said anything directly to Xia Luo’s face, their excitement and intrigue was plain enough.

For her part, Xia Luo held up her vow of silence and contained her growing irritation. Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui did their best to create a small buffer zone around her so she could have some space, but for someone who had grown up alone and completely out of the public eye, it just wasn’t enough. Xia Luo went to bed exhausted each night from the stress and woke up stiff from the tension she stored in her muscles. Her jaw ached from clenching it to keep down the angry words that had started to threaten on her tongue, and Lan Jingyi had tried joking that her face was going to end up in a permanent frown like Nie Mingjue’s. Something had to give.

* * * * *

“Alright, let’s do this!” said Lan Jingyi. “It will be good to get out of class for a Night Hunt.”

After the previous few days of feeling trapped in a cage where people could observe and appraise her, Xia Luo had to agree. I couldn’t take another day of being around all the other boys. They weren’t even alive to know Nie Mingjue, but they all have so much to say.

It seemed as though everyone suddenly had an opinion to offer about Nie Mingjue. This newly exposed secret meant that everything about him — his relationship with Xia Luo’s mother, and Xia Luo herself — was fair game to question. Regarding her mother, Xia Luo had overheard theories about prostitutes, a Wen woman from the Sunshot Campaign, a cultivator from a distant clan, and even one theory about a lowly Jin Clan servant woman. Each theory she heard became more outlandish than the ones before and demanded an even greater level of restraint on her part to keep her cool. But it was precisely because the boys didn’t know the truth of her conception that she continued to stew in her anger.

You’d all lose your heads if you knew what really happened, but because you have no clue you get to go on speculating and creating all kinds of ludicrous stories that diminish Nie Mingjue’s honor. Xia Luo paused at the thought and scoffed. I guess the truth would tarnish his honor, too.

Xia Luo was bitter. Caught in a double bind, she felt like she had no choice but to allow herself to be carried along by the tide her mother created. Like always , she thought, not even a wry smile managing to break through her sullen expression.

“We got a simple assignment for this Night Hunt,” said Lan Sizhui, looking over the piece of paper with their instructions. “We’ll fly over towards the old Wen border where there are some resettled villages with a mix of people from the other clans. Since it’s remote, they don’t have any nearby cultivators. It looks like they spotted some walking corpses recently and want us to check it out.”

“Walking corpses, still?” remarked Lan Jingyi. “I thought all the walking corpses were cleared out ages ago.”

“Some can still crop up now and then. Who knows, maybe they were trapped someplace and only got free after a storm or something. That’s been known to happen,” said Lan Sizhui. “Xia Luo, do you have a lot of real life experience with corpses?”

Xia Luo shrugged. Even though she had taken out walking corpses with her uncle, she was sure that she didn’t have half the experience these two had. Comparing her training to theirs, she noted that she was at a disadvantage when it came to work with corpses and spirits. These two had helped Wei Wuxian and Hanguang-jun during the events that lead to Jin Guangyao’s demise, and while she wasn’t clear on all the details, she knew there had been loads of corpses to deal with. So although she was confident in her own skills to deal with some corpses, she didn’t know how to respond to the question when it was Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi being held as the comparison.

“Hm, no problem. They shouldn’t be very powerful, so there shouldn’t be anything to worry about. Besides, it’s just to get some experience applying our lessons,” said Lan Sizhui in response. Xia Luo’s been so noncommittal these days , he thought.

“Yeah, you can finally let loose! Maybe what you need is some time away from the Cloud Recesses where you can do what a Nie does best!” remarked Lan Jingyi, swinging his arms across his body like he was striking with a saber. “They say that the Nie do their best thinking with their weapons, and you’ve been thinking an awful lot lately, but you haven’t really been fighting.”

Xia Luo made a face at him.

“No, really!” he said, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Master Wei said that the Nie Clan members were so terrifying in battle because that’s when their best thinking happened. It’s like they became masterminds when on the battlefield, which is probably why Nie Mingjue always insisted on being at the front of every major battle.”

“Jingyi, that’s ridiculous. Wei-qianbei was probably messing with you when he said that,” rebuffed Lan Sizhui, shaking his head. “Don’t listen to him, Xia Luo, he’ll repeat anything that sounds interesting.”

“Hey, I do not!” said Lan Jingyi as he got ready to defend himself against this unfair accusation.

“In any case, I agree that it will be good to get some space. I’m sure these few days have been a lot for you,” Lan Sizhui said. He looked over to Xia Luo, but she didn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she simply nodded and fiddled with something in her sleeve. “Well then, since we know where we’re going and what we have to do, let’s head out.”

Xia Luo didn’t need to be told twice. With one fluid motion she drew Yongyao and hopped on before tucking her hands back in her sleeves. She looked every bit the sage, only too young and too brooding. As they flew, she thumbed the tiger pendant attached to her fan and ran her fingers over the silk tassel. Absently, she wondered how her uncle was doing.

* * * * *

Xia Gongmin threw the teacup Xia Shunchao had handed him in a fit of rage. He had been away on business the last few days and had returned just that morning only to hear that everyone now knew about Xia Luo’s relation to Nie Mingjue.

“You snake!” he roared. “Don’t you care at all for your own child! Why would you reveal this? Why would you put this on Xia Luo when she already has so much to prove?” he bellowed, his face red and the veins on his forehead bulging. “Do you hate her, or do you truly love yourself so much?”

“Gege, please,” said Xia Shunchao who hadn’t even flinched when the teacup smashed behind her. “How could I hate my own child? I let the truth slip because I love her. Wouldn’t I be a terrible mother if I forced my child to keep such a secret on her own?” she reasoned. Xia Gongmin was fuming as he paced back and forth. “Gege, the world needed to know. Besides, Xia Luo needs her father’s name’s backing her if she hopes to become the official heir.”

“You,” said Xia Gongmin, pointing. “ You need to have his name backing her. Don’t pretend this is something she wants or chose for herself. You want this.”

Xia Shunchao sighed. “You are so determined to make me out to be the villain, gege. Who have I harmed, truly? I’m not the one who killed Nie Mingjue,” she said, seeing his chest swell. “Anyway, it’s out, which means Nie Huaisang has heard by now. It’s about time he was reminded that he has a nephew.”

Xia Gongmin looked as though he wanted to throw the chair he had just put his hands on, but he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth instead. “Just tell me what you’re planning.”

“I’m not planning anything, gege. Nie Huaisang needed to be reminded of the agreement, that’s all.” Xia Shunchao smiled. “It would have been such a shame if he had truly forgotten about it years ago after not hearing anything from us about his nephew,” she continued. “He must have thought he simply wasn’t worth mentioning. A failure worth forgetting.”

“You want to die,” said Xia Gongmin, his eyes red.

Xia Shunchao let out a singular chuckle. “For an advisor, you really do overlook some important matters, gege. Didn’t you ever question Nie Huaisang’s silence? Weren’t you ever concerned that he had forgotten the deal?” Xia Shunchao’s smile didn’t waver. “Of course not. You hoped he had forgotten, because then you could keep playing pretend. And yet,” she said, her smile turning mean, “you still kept along with the agreement despite that hope. You really thought you could have both, didn’t you?”

Xia Gongmin was at his wits end. He had questioned the agreement ever since it had come into effect, yet he had never managed to come to terms with what it all meant. He hated to admit that after Nie Mingjue’s death a small part of him wished Xia Luo had been born a boy. He knew it was wrong, which was why he righted his thoughts when she was little to love and cherish Xia Luo for the precocious little girl she was. In doing this, he felt like he was honoring her and his late wife who had desperately wanted a daughter, but Xia Shunchao was always in the shadows, waiting for her moment. She poisoned every memory he made with Xia Luo by crafting a lesson or an experience that would eventually distance Xia Luo from her own sense of femininity and girlhood. Faced with someone who increasingly acted like a boy and who developed a distaste for women’s work, Xia Gongmin realized he had no choice but to go along with his sister’s plan. By the time Xia Luo turned fifteen, he simply couldn’t see how the work Xia Shunchao had done could be reversed to help Xia Luo grow into a woman who would fit in with society.

Xia Gongmin didn’t think he could have both. In fact, he didn’t think he could have either, and he was right. His greatest hope for Xia Luo was that she would have… what? What could he have hoped for her? Shouldn’t he have been the one to find a way out for her? She was just a child, after all, and now they had parted on non-speaking terms.

Xia Shunchao watched her brother, his thoughts streaming behind his darkened eyes. “Oh, gege. There’s no need to blame yourself. You loved her too much, just like you loved him too much. It seems you end up unable to help the ones you love the most, which isn’t an uncommon trait.”

“Get out.”

“Gege, don’t be unreasonable,” Xia Shunchao said. “You’re the one who called me in, and you even threw a teacup.”

“Get out,” Xia Gongmin repeated. “Get out before I disown you and throw you out of this house.”

“You wouldn’t,” said Xia Shunchao, her lip curling.

Xia Gongmin gave a wry laugh. “No, I wouldn’t.” He looked right into his sister’s eyes. “I wouldn’t dare take that opportunity away from A-Luo.”

* * * * *

“Alright, I think this is the place. Let’s go ask some locals for the latest news to see which direction we should head in first,” suggested Lan Sizhui.

The trio had landed just outside a small village surrounded by a forest that was still recovering from a major burn years ago. According to Lan Jingyi, this area had been inhabited by Wen Clan members and was burned during the war to cut off Wen army access to resources. To Xia Luo, the place looked like it had never let go of the sorrow it had suffered despite being repopulated and recultivated.

The village itself was little more than a main street with a few small shops and an inn that could not have had more than four rooms upstairs. The people all looked like your average country folk, their clothes simple and functional to suit the work they did. A woman wearing a straw hat saw the three young cultivators in white approaching and went over to greet them. She bowed low, and when she came back up Xia Luo noted her tanned skin and smiling eyes. This woman looked different from the women Xia Luo used to see in town when her mother would permit her to accompany her; those women were usually dressed in their nicest clothes and had their hair done up with pins and combs. Plenty of the women wore wakeup to varying degrees and carried around small bags and umbrellas. This woman looked much more plain in comparison without the decorations and accessories, but if she felt the difference between her and her townsfolk sisters, she didn’t show it.

“Ah, young masters! You must be here on account of our recent troubles with walking corpses,” the woman said, wringing her hands together. “I’m sure they’re no big problem for cultivators like yourselves to deal with, but they’re plenty frightening enough for us.”

“Yes, we’re here to clear them out,” affirmed Lan Sizhui. “Could you tell us about the most recent activity and where it’s been taking place?”

“We just had a meeting about it yesterday, actually. These corpses seem to move very slowly and smell awful,” the woman said, wringing her hands together. “I haven’t seen them myself, but the woodcutter and his sons have seen them in the woods. He thinks there are at least four of them and has tried to lure them away from the village, but we can’t be certain if it was successful or not. Either way, we’d hate to find out we accidentally sent them off to become someone else’s problem.”

“What did he try doing to lure them away?” asked Lan Jingyi. “Also, where were they last seen? You said they’ve been seen in the forest, but could you tell us more specifically?”

The woman shook her head. “We don’t know the right ways of dealing with these sorts of matters, so it was probably something like leaving a trail of pig’s blood for them. As for where they were last seen, if you head that way,” the woman pointed to show them, “by foot for an incense time you’ll reach a pile of collapsed rock. It must have been a structure before, but it’s just rubble now. We think the corpses were caught there during the war, but it’s all just guesses on our part.”

“That’s where you think they came from, but is it where they still are now?” asked Lan Sizhui.

“I believe so,” said the woman. “You must understand, we don’t go looking for them.”

“I see. Would you be able to tell us where to find the woodcutter, then?” asked Lan Sizhui.

“He lives in the woods, only half an incense walk from here in the direction of the stone pile. That’s why he’s the one who’s been dealing with the corpses and trying to keep them from coming to the village.”

The Lan boys thanked the woman and the trio set off in the direction she had indicated. It was past midday by this point and the sun was still high overhead. Without many clouds to block the early summer light, they were happy to find that the path through the woods was nicely shaded. The young trees boasted fresh, green leaves on their arching branches that were just starting to take on the girth of maturity.

Xia Luo took in a deep breath and closed her eyes, the dappled light that filtered between the branches playing across her eyelids. With a slow, quiet exhale, she let her shoulders drop and her muscles relax. There were no eyes on her here, no whispers. On this path between the trees, Xia Luo could shed her worries and let her mind be still. She could listen to the birds that flitted and sang in the branches overhead without dreading when the peace would be broken. Walking corpses or not, being out on this Night Hunt with the Lan boys was better than she could have hoped for.

Ahead of her, Lan Sizhui smiled to himself. After seeing Xia Luo so stressed, angry, and distant for days, he was relieved to feel her relax.

After about half an incense time, the trio came upon a small house just as the woman said they would. When they knocked on the door, however, no one answered.

“Huh, I guess he must be out working,” remarked Lan Jingyi.

“We may as well continue on to the stone pile, then,” said Lan Sizhui. “Maybe we’ll bump into the woodcutter on the way. If not, then we’ll just look for our own clues and go from there.”

Lan Jingyi and Xia Luo nodded, and the three went on their way.

“Hey, do you hear that?” asked Lan Sizhui as they got closer to where the stone pile was before the sound of a man’s yell set them all into a run. After only a short dash they came up to a large pile of rubble and the unconscious form of a man lying on the ground. Before Lan Sizhui could say anything, Xia Luo had jumped onto Yongyao and disappeared into the woods to clear the perimeter.

“He’s quick,” said Lan Jingyi. “I guess if yao beasts are the Nie Clan’s specialty you have to be quick or else.”

“Come on, let’s check him,” Lan Sizhui said, indicating the man on the ground. After a quick check on his vitals, he spoke again. “He’ll be fine. It seems like he fainted, but what could have made him yell like that?” he wondered aloud.

“There’s no physical signs of an attack of any sort, either,” Lan Jingyi noted.

Having found nothing during her wide sweep of the perimeter, Xia Luo returned and landed next to them. She shook her head.

“Hm. This is strange,” said Lan Sizhui. “What should we do next?” He looked to Xia Luo for her opinion.

Xia Luo drew with Yongyao in the dirt. “Take him back. Look for corpses. Question later.”

Lan Jingyi read her response aloud and nodded. “I second that!” he said. “Who should take him back?”

Lan Sizhui looked down at the unconscious man. “I think it’s a two person job. How about you and I go, and Xia Luo, you can stay here to look for clues. See if you can find anything out about why the corpses only came out now. We’ll be quick, since we can fly back after we bring him home.”

Xia Luo nodded, watched the boys hoist up the woodcutter, then turned to face the pile of stones. There wasn’t a whole lot to look at. Besides the dark gray stones that had fallen due to the intense forest fire, nothing noteworthy appeared in her search of the rubble.

Content with her investigation, Xia Luo closed her eyes and let the peace of the woods wash over her again. She stood like that for a while and didn’t notice when the birdsong had stopped and the rustling of creatures in the underbrush stilled. A breeze set the leaves fluttering and a cloud must have blocked the sun because Xia Luo could sense a shadow over her. Xia Luo frowned. There are no clouds in the sky today .

She opened her eyes and drew her sword, but there was nothing there. The woods were quiet, but save for Xia Luo, there was nothing else there. Thinking it wise to check again, Xia Luo looked the stone pile over once more but still found nothing. Shortly after, the birdsong returned and Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui’s voices came into earshot as well.

Hm. That’s two strange events, but no corpses to be seen.

Writing in the dirt with Yongyao, Xia Luo informed the boys of her findings. “Strange shadow. No birdsong. Nothing in rocks.”

Lan Jingyi made a face. “We heard birdsong the whole way, right Sizhui?” he said, getting a nod in response. “There wasn’t anything strange at the woodcutter’s place. It looks like his kids are out and about for the day, too.”

“Mn.”

“Alright, if there’s nothing here and nothing to learn from the woodcutter at the moment, we should probably look to attract the corpses,” Lan Sizhui said. “It’ll be much quicker than looking for them.”

“That’s true,” said Lan Jingyi. “Do you want to set up the flags?”

“The flags might be a bit much,” said Lan Sizhui. “Xia Luo, what do you think?”

Xia Luo pulled out a small pouch from her qiankun sleeve and held it out.

“What’s that?” asked Lan Jingyi, taking the pouch to sniff the contents. “Woah! Phew, that’s pungent!” he said, coughing. “What is that, dried blood or something?”

“Mn.” Xia Luo wrote out a new message. “We use dried pig blood powder to attract yao beasts.”

“Leave it to the clan of butchers to find a way to use pig’s blood for everything,” Lan Jingyi remarked, earning him an elbow to the ribs from Lan Sizhui.

Xia Luo only shrugged before mounting Yongyao and drawing seals in the air with the dried blood.

“Uh, hey Sizhui, doesn’t that look demonic to you?” Lan Jingyi said. Above them, Xia Luo hovered on her sword while she drew the seals. It did look demonic, especially considering the seals were intended to attract evil entities.

“I mean, the attraction flags are technically demonic,” said Lan Sizhui, trying to justify the Nie Clan practice, “but we accept them because we use them for good. “They were Wei-qianbei’s creation, though, and were definitely seen as demonic when he created them.”

“Yeah, but this uses blood,” said Lan Jingyi. “Pig’s blood, sure, but still.”

Xia Luo finished her sequence of seals and returned to the ground. Although the scent was faint to them, the bit of pig’s blood she had used was currently sending out its scent over a radius of five li. If there were any corpses nearby, they would be drawn to the rock pile in no time.

“Hey, Xia Luo,” said Lan Jingyi. “What kind of seal was that, exactly?”

“It’s a modified lure and snare seal. Think of it as a hunter’s seal.”

“Oh, alright. So now what? We just wait here until the corpses arrive?” Lan Jingyi asked. “What if they’re outside of the range your seals set?”

“Xia Luo, you said it’s a lure and snare seal. Does that mean the corpses can’t leave once they enter the central point?” asked Lan Sizhui.

“For a time.”

“Do you think we could go on patrol and return here in a little while and it would be fine?” he asked.

“Mn.”

“Alright! Let’s go flying!” exclaimed Lan Jingyi. 

“Yes, let’s. I think I’ll go check on the woodcutter to see if he’s awake yet. Jingyi, Xia Luo, pick a direction and scout it for a bit, but don’t engage with the corpses until I get back, if they even show themselves” Lan Sizhui instructed. “Let’s all meet here in no more than an incense time.”

* * * * *

At the Cloud Recesses, Lan Wangji was staring at the ceiling. It had been a few days since he had agreed to Wei Wuxian’s bet about telling Lan Xichen about Xia Luo being Nie Mingjue’s son, which also meant it had been a few days since he had gotten his way with his husband. Much to Lan Wangji’s growing consternation, Wei Wuxian was proving to be a slippery fish to catch in this bet. He played Chenqing until Lan Wangji fell asleep and then put himself to bed in another room. Needless to say, neither of them was sleeping well.

Today, Wei Wuxian had gone off on account of feeding the rabbits while the juniors were out on their Night Hunt, but Lan Wangji got the sense that he had other motives for wanting to go into the woods alone, and the thought upset him. Finally, he drew the line and set aside his pride. Every day meant every day, after all, and the fact that he had allowed Wei Wuxian to use that as a bartering chip was too much. Telling Lan Xichen about Xia Luo really wasn’t the worst thing.

In the clearing where the rabbits lived, Wei Wuxian lounged in the grass. Suffering in the absence of his usual intimacy with his husband, he had taken matters into his own hands. He felt marginally better, but it didn’t keep him from lamenting to the rabbits.

“Ah, Lan Xichen, I’m doing this for you, you know,” he said, holding up a white bunny. “You should know about your martial nephew, even if you don’t want to interact with him.” The bunny twitched its nose. “Exactly! It will be your choice, but you have to know about it in the first place to be able to make a decision. If only your dear brother could see that.” Wei Wuxian sighed and put the bunny down. “The things I do for others,” he lamented, then closed his eyes.

Even in the shade at the edge of the clearing, he could feel the change in lighting as something stood over him. Cracking one eye open, Wei Wuxian smiled.

“Lan Zhan! You couldn’t wait for me to come back from the bunnies, so you came out here yourself!” he said, pillowing his head on his arms. Even though he burned with desire looking up at his husband, he feigned nonchalance. “I was thinking that later today I would –” he said, but was cut off.

“Enough,” interrupted Lan Wangji, his white robes whirling before settling around him. Wei Wuxian’s eyes went wide, but he didn’t get another word out before Lan Wangji sealed his lips with his own. Not one to give up, he waited until Lan Wangji took a moment to catch his own breath in order to speak again.

“Lan Zhan, have you forgotten our bet? Does this mean you’re breaking the bet?” he asked, his heart soaring with unquenchable hope. He kept his hands pinned under his head to keep them from reaching out to wrap around Lan Wangji’s neck. “You’ll lose the bet,” he said, “which means you’ll have forsaken your vow for nothing.” Even in such a state, Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but make trouble for himself.

“We’ll make up for all the missed days,” said Lan Wangji, his hands grabbing Wei Wuxian’s waist.

“Wait, what? Lan Zhan, take it easy! You can’t possibly mean to make up for all those missed days. Ah!” Wei Wuxian yelped as he was lifted from the ground and pulled onto Lan Wangji’s lap.

“Now,” said Lan Wangji, his eyes burning into Wei Wuxian’s. He was not going to let a single day go without collecting its dues.

Around them, bunnies tumbled over one another, nipping and pinning each other in a mottled pile of black and white.

* * * * *

Alone in the woods, Xia Luo flew a short distance before landing and walking slowly among the trees. The assignment was an easy one, like Lan Sizhui said it would be, and the area they were in felt tame. With such a young forest, ancient spirits were unlikely denizens, thus lowering the chances of an unexpected encounter with something dangerous. As for the corpses, Xia Luo would smell them before they even came close, so she lowered her guard and took the opportunity to meditate. Perching on a flat rock, she crossed her legs and smoothed her robes.

Out here, it was neutral territory; it wasn’t her mother or uncle’s domain, or the Gusu Lan’s spiritual center, which meant she could claim the space as her own. Placing her fists together, she drew in a breath and tried to still her mind. She could finally address the irritation that had been building throughout the week, but because she hadn’t spent time with her other feelings, it felt like there wasn’t anywhere to put it. She tried to sweep it away like her uncle had taught her, but drawing on his methods only brought her mother to mind. She shook her head.

She taints everything. She had nothing to do with my lessons in meditation, yet she still shows up.

She furrowed her brows and tried harder.

Just get out of my head. Get out.

The harder she tried, the more aggravated she became.

I don’t want you here. You’re already getting what you want, so leave me alone!

Xia Luo’s knuckles turned white as she pressed them together harder.

I hate you.

* * * * *

From high overhead on his saber, Xia Gongmin spotted a lonely, seemingly abandoned shrine. Although he wasn’t one for religion and wasn’t a very spiritual man, he found himself landing nonetheless. He looked tired, his face drawn and his normally sun-tanned complexion pale. After his exchange with Xia Shunchao, he had banished her to her own quarters and instructed the servants to ensure that she stayed out of his sight. If she was going to plan and plot, Xia Gongmin at least wanted her to do it where he couldn’t see her. Furious but resolute, he then arranged a business trip that was somewhat overdue and left, giving himself plenty of time to get to his destination.

Approaching the small shrine, Xia Gongmin swept back the purple sleeves of his robes and bowed. On the altar was a small figure of an ox, and before it was an incense burner with the remains of an incense stick and a candle beside it. It was a farmer’s shrine, no doubt intended to curry favor with the deity who embodied fieldwork and the laborer. If anyone were to see a warrior dressed as finely as himself before the shrine, they’d have to wonder what he could possibly need from an ox deity.

From his sleeve he drew an incense stick which he lit with a spark from his blade as he struck it. He remembered being asked at a conference long ago by a young cultivator if he could make actual fire. Xia Luo, too, had asked him the same question when he taught her how to strike a spark from her blade, and the memory made him smile. Although these sparks could light a candle or a stick of incense, they could do little else. They weren’t real flames, after all, just a momentary flare of energy.

“Great Ox, it’s been a long time since I’ve come to see you. The last time was when I was a boy, lost in the fields after a storm. I came to you then looking for shelter and courage, and I come to you now for much the same thing.” Xia Gongmin placed the incense in the burner.

“My niece, Xia Luo, is enduring great tribulations that came upon her much like the storm came upon me. I pray that you grant her courage to weather the storm and that you provide some shelter for her young heart. She is fierce, but she is inexperienced in the world.” Xia Gongmin sighed, a look of deep sadness and regret etching his face.

“I couldn’t be her shelter, nor was the Xia estate a shelter, either. I ask you, through your strength and wisdom, to guide her to where she can feel safe. Let her take refuge there and learn to become her own shelter,” Xia Gongmin said. “I worry she will be forced to grow faster than she should, and she does not know how to ask for help. Give her the courage to allow others to help her so she is not alone on this journey.”

On the altar, the incense smoke swirled and rose in patterns that looped and folded over themselves.

Xia Gongmin gave a small laugh despite his heavy heart. With sleeves fluttering, he left the shrine and mounted his saber. He didn’t look back.

* * * * *

From his seat inside the Cold Room, Lan Wangji watched his brother process what he had just said. Lan Xichen looked blankly at him, then furrowed his brows, then opened and closed his mouth.

“Wangji, that’s not possible,” said Lan Xichen after a few attempts. “He never took a wife, nor can I believe that he…” he started, but he didn’t finish the thought.

“Xiongzhang,” said Lan Wangji. “He never married, but he did sire a son.”

“But,” said Lan Xichen in disbelief, “with whom? He never expressed any interest in any woman.”

“The woman is Xia Shunchao, younger sister to Xia Gongmin,” said Lan Wangji.

“Xia Gongmin. I know this name,” Lan Xichen mused, rifling through his memories to place the name. “Wangji, where do I know this man from?”

“Xia Gongmin was Chifeng-zun’s personal advisor,” said Lan Wangji.

Lan Xichen made the connection after a moment of thought. “Yes, I remember him now. He was a skilled saber fighter and a boon to the Nie Clan’s political standing; he was a well-spoken man. I did not know he had a sister. Where are they now?” Lan Xichen asked, his frail form leaning forward.

Lan Wangji answered him plainly. “They reside in the Xia family residence outside of Qinghe.”

Lan Xichen blinked slowly. “I have been there before. I once dined there after being redirected from the Unclean Realm to find Da-ge,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t remember a sister.”

“Xiongzhang,” continued Lan Wangji, “there is reason to believe the child was not a product of love between the two.”

“What? What would make you say that?” asked Lan Xichen. On his pale, sallow face was a mixture of sadness, grief, dismay, and the faintest trace of hope.

“Wei Ying is suspicious.”

Lan Xichen looked disappointed, but the look was quickly replaced with one of confusion. “What does a-Xian know of this?”

“He has been watching the son.”

The look of confusion only deepened. He shook his head. “What do you mean by this?”

“The boy is a guest disciple at the Cloud Recesses, Xiongzhang.”

Lan Xichen froze. Inside the Cold Room, no one breathed. It was as though even the incense smoke paused in its upward motion. “His son is here?” he asked in a whisper that hardly made it to Lan Wangi’s ears.

“Mn.”

All at once, the incense in the room felt unbearably strong. Lan Xichen sat down heavily by a window and put a hand against his forehead. It was too much of a shock. To think that Chifeng-zun had had a child and that the boy was now at the Cloud Recesses was simply too much.

“How old is he?” Lan Xichen asked, his voice thin.

“Chifeng-zun died before the boy turned one month old,” said Lan Wangji. Because of the timeline, there was no reason to believe Nie Mingjue had kept the boy’s existence a secret on purpose. 

Lan Xichen nodded. “I see,” he said. “And his name?”

“Xia Luo,” said Lan Wangji, “Luo as in “brindled ox”. Wei Ying says he looks like him,” he offered.

“Oh.” Slowly lowering his hand from his forehead, Lan Xichen looked even more weighed down than before. Lan Wangji regretted having to add to his brother’s troubles, but even if he hadn’t made the bet with Wei Wuxian, he understood why telling Lan Xichen was the right thing to do.

“You should meet him, if you feel well enough,” he said.

“Well enough,” echoed Lan Xichen absently. “No,” he said, returning his focus to Lan Wangji. “It wouldn’t do for us to meet. There is no need for that.”

Unsure of what to say and aware that he had upheld his end of the bet, Lan Wangji did not push the matter any further. In silence, the two brothers sat across from one another, one staring out the window with a listless and faraway look while the other watched him with a soft gaze. If there was nothing to say, then silent company was the next best offering.

* * * * *

A burner full of incense sent its smoke curling out the window and up to the sky. Before it knelt a woman in beautiful robes, her long sleeves trailing along the floor. Candles lined the small room and cast the room in an eerie sort of brightness, one that felt too warm and too revealing. Encircled by light, the woman left no shadow.

Where Xia Gongmin was modest in his spiritual practices, Xia Shunchao indulged in excess. Banished to her own chambers, she immediately took to her personal altar to beseech the gods for their blessings.

Min-gege, you fool. You think the silent ones will have their wishes granted?

She pulled a long, thin, white item from her sleeve and held it in front of her face.

You have to ask, but then again, you’ve never been good at that.

A smile crept across Xia Shunchao’s shadowless face. She placed the item on the altar in front of her and lit a large red candle. With her herbs and other offerings in place, she was ready.

Bending forward at the waist, Xia Shunchao bowed low before the altar. One at a time, she lit the offerings and herbs on fire to join their varied scents with those of the incense, speaking a word here and there. When only the item from her sleeve remained, she picked it up and held it above the candle where it wasn’t close enough to catch fire.

“For the sake of the Nie blood that runs in her veins, bless Xia Luo with your strength. Great Yao Beast, guide Xia Luo in her journey to her rightful place.”

With a hiss, the candle’s flame claimed what it was offered.

Xia Shunchao watched the tiger whisker vanish without a trace of smoke, her dark eyes glinting with the light of the candle’s flame. With a sweep of her arm, the candles around the room extinguished themselves until only the red candle was left, its flickering flame making deep shadows appear across Xia Shunchao’s face.

* * * * *

Resentment bubbled up in Xia Luo. It didn’t seem to matter what she tried, nothing would keep her mother out of her mind. With a growl, she slammed her fists on the rock beneath her.

I hate you. I hate you so much!

Around her, the birds went silent, and she chided herself for her lack of restraint.

Jiujiu would have something to say. He’d make me do handstands if he saw me acting like this, same as the Lan elders would have me do. She shook her head to clear it and started walking. As she walked, her footsteps silent on the padded forest floor, Xia Luo pulled out her fan to see if some practice might help her ground herself. Since arriving at the Cloud Recesses, Xia Luo hadn’t gotten the chance to practice with her fan. If she was being honest with herself, it wasn’t because she had forgotten about it, but because she was afraid it would draw people’s attention and lead them to make a connection with Nie Huaisang.

Xia Luo had heard plenty about the Nie Clan leader and his affinity for the finer things. In other words, she had silently endured the comments about Nie Huaisang’s effeminate nature and proclivity for a delicate and comfortable lifestyle. Concerned with her own public image, Xia Luo had kept her fan a secret. Now that everyone would know she was Nie Mingjue’s child, they would also make the connection that she was Nie Huaisang’s niece.

Nephew, she corrected herself.

In the woods, however, she was alone and hidden from prying eyes. She could dance with her fan, draw up fallen leaves from the ground, and send them swirling in a flurry of green. Purely for show, these moves lifted her spirits and eased the feeling of tightness around her heart.

What was that?

Xia Luo stopped in her tracks and let the leaves fall. With her fan held out, she listened carefully.

Mn. Maybe it was a bird flying by.

Resuming her walk, Xia Luo called up another swirl of leaves before releasing them in the direction she had thought she’d heard something before. No longer for show, the leaves cut through the air before sticking into the trunks of a few trees. Xia Luo didn’t move, nor did anything else. The woods were entirely silent save for the sound of her breathing.

Xia Luo snapped her fan shut and straightened her back. Scanning the underbrush and then the treetops, she started walking once more. She timed her breaths to match her footsteps so that there was perfect silence between each footfall. Resisting the urge to open and close her fan against her palm like she used to do, she let her senses reach out into the forest.

What made that woodcutter faint? Is there really something more out here than walking corpses?

A faint hiss sounded somewhere behind her, like air blowing through a cracked window.

Walking corpses don’t sound like that. Besides, I’d have smelled them by now.

Keeping her gait steady, Xia Luo stepped over some broken branches and kept on walking.

Something feels off. Maybe I should fly, instead, she thought. But what if I miss whatever it is by flying? If there’s something more affecting the people out here, then I should stay where I can figure out what it is.

Ahead of her, a copse of young trees spanned a length of the woods. From the looks of it, this copse was maintained by the woodcutter, probably for basket material harvests. The trees here were willows, which made Xia Luo wonder if there was a water source nearby. Debating again, Xia Luo changed her mind and reached for her sword when a loud hiss sounded behind her.

Xia Luo whirled around, her hand on her hilt, then spun around again when the sound came from her left.

What is that?

Xia Luo turned her head to track the sound, her pupils contracting. There, about twenty paces into the copse, was a dark form that held no particular shape. Xia Luo squinted at it, but she was unable to make out a face or any distinguishable characteristics. Releasing a breath she realized she had been holding, she took a step forward. The dark form shifted, then gradually became bigger.

It’s not getting bigger, it’s getting closer.

Xia Luo drew her sword and jumped on it to put distance between herself and the form, but the form was faster. Shooting out of the copse, it took to the tree canopy and spread itself out.

It’s trying to force me to stay on the ground? Xia Luo thought, her ascent blocked by what she now identified as a nebulous cloud. Of what exactly, she had no clue. A spirit? A ghost? It seems to have a thought process, or maybe it just responds to energy.

Xia Luo’s calm observations came to an abrupt end when the dark cloud condensed itself and pressed down with great speed. Without a thought, Xia Luo shot forward and began to weave between the trees, away from the copse and back towards the central meeting point. Behind her, the dark cloud followed after her movement for movement, darting forward to press at her heels at times and falling back at others.

The hair rose on the back of Xia Luo’s neck and a feeling of unease settled in the pit of her stomach. Then, the hissing sound of the black cloud died away.

Not one to slow down in an escape from yao beasts, Xia Luo treated this mysterious entity like she would a yao beast, and kept up her speed. Then the dark cloud appeared in front of her and exploded upwards, sending Xia Luo flying off her sword from the impact.

Xia Luo hit the ground with a thud, Yongyao landing some distance away.

It has physical mass? How does it change like that and still manage to land a physical hit?

Xia Luo looked to Yongyao, attempting to judge if she could make a dash for it, but the hard landing still had her a bit dazed. Her hair stood on end, a chill in the air making her skin prickle. The dark cloud had settled itself before her, its nebulous mass curling and folding on itself like black smoke. Jaw clenching, Xia Luo pulled her fan from her sleeve and snapped it open.

If regular smoke could be dispersed, then maybe she could disperse whatever this was to buy herself some time to get away. Before she could raise her hand to initiate a proper fan movement, the dark cloud dropped to the ground and prowled towards her, its roiling form changing, much to her horror, into what looked like faces. Worse still was that the indistinct faces took shape one at a time on what looked like a large animal’s body, a trail of smoke lashing back and forth like a tail.

When in doubt, Xia Luo had been taught to strike hard. Putting all of her energy into the movement, Xia Luo rocked forward and sent a blast of wind at the entity. Not waiting to see if it hit, she dove for Yongyao then came skidding to a halt. The entity had placed itself directly in front of her, its form swelling and swirling, growing taller and leaner as it took on a more human shape.

Xia Luo gasped. With Yongyao in one hand and her fan in the other, she stared at the face the entity had created.

Jiujiu?

Although the features continued to shift in the swirling mass of the dark cloud, there was no doubt that the face and form the entity was currently depicting was that of Xia Gongmin. A straight, defined nose and thin, gently smiling lips caught Xia Luo’s attention. Broad shoulders and a saber at the form’s side completed the illusion.

How does it know what Jiujiu looks like? Why would it take this form?

Xia Luo stared at the familiar face, flinching away from it as it reached out to her. The entity withdrew its hand and turned away from her. The mannerism was so uncanny in its similarity to the way Xia Gongmin often responded to Xia Shunchao’s quips that it brought up a swell of emotion in Xia Luo.

Against all reason, Xia Luo stood up and took a step towards the shifting form of her uncle. Sensing her, the form turned around, but it had a new face. Shrinking, the entity became more delicate and refined, its features softer. On its head was a black hat that she recognized as the style worn by the Chief Cultivator. The extra curls of smoke at the sleeves must have been to represent the ruffled sleeves of an inner robe Nie Huaisang was often said to wear. Looking up into that nebulous face with softly arching brows elicited in Xia Luo a feeling of neglect.

Why didn’t you ever come to see me? If you knew your own brother had a son, why didn't you come to see him? You gave me this sword, she thought, gripping Yongyao tighter, but why? Everyone asks why I don’t have a saber, and you must be the only one who knows.

The dark form snapped its fan open and hid its face behind it, and Xia Luo felt her stomach lurch.

You gave me a fan, too. What did you mean by it? What do you think of me? Have you ever even thought of me?

Xia Luo took a step towards the form that was now fanning itself, its shoulder turned away to show a demure facade. With a whoosh , the illusion of Nie Huaisang vanished and was replaced by smaller forms with laughing faces. Shadowy girls circled Xia Luo and giggled silently behind their hands before changing into a group of boys all jeering at her. The boys vanished and became the waitress from the restaurant in town, her heavy-lidded expression bringing up the same feelings of embarrassment the original had caused.

Confused, Xia Luo stumbled backwards to get away from the shadowy waitress but had to stop herself to avoid backing into the entity that had changed form again and taken up its place behind her.

Stop it. Stop! What is going on?

As the entity continued changing form and creating faces that Xia Luo knew and had strong feelings towards, it also edged closer to her, continually guiding her step by step towards a large rock. Like a predator corralling its prey, the entity backed her up to the rock until she found she had nowhere to go, the faces on the entity becoming increasingly hostile and judgemental towards her.

By now, Xia Luo couldn’t see anything but the dark form in front of her. Her heart raced and she could hear her own blood in her ears, the pounding sound punctuated by the rasp of her breathing. Completely disoriented and awash with resentment, Xia Luo pressed her hands against her head, her weapons still clasped in them.

Stop it. Leave me alone. Just leave me alone!

When she opened her eyes, Xia Shunchao’s form stood in front of her, a smirk marking her lips. Lost to reason, Xia Luo glowered at her mother. She couldn’t hear anything outside the sounds in her own head, and there wasn’t anything her mother could have said to talk her down. There was nothing Xia Luo knew in that moment but the all-encompassing feeling of red-hot, biting resentment.

GET LOST! This is your fault! I’m like this because of YOU! I HATE YOU!

The moment she lunged forward to swipe at her mother’s self-satisfied face was the exact moment the entity surged forward and slammed through Xia Luo’s body. Surging coils of smoke pressed out from Xia Luo’s back as the force of the blow crushed her against the rock. The wind knocked out of her, Xia Luo slid down the rock and tried to hold herself upright.

Her head ringing and her vision blurred, she gathered the last of her strength to look up to catch one final glimpse of the swirling mass of smoke.

The last face she saw on the dark form before she fell into unconsciousness had the smallest trace of a smile on its lips.

The face on the entity was her own.

Chapter Text

Xia Luo groaned into the leaf litter of the forest floor. Disoriented upon waking, she struggled to peel herself from the ground as her mind tried to make sense of the situation. When she finally managed to prop herself on one elbow, the residual feeling of resentment sloshed back into her stomach. The sensation made her retch, and with it came a rush of confused images of shadowy faces and a roiling smoke figure. With a start, Xia Luo remembered what had happened.

It was real , she thought, bringing herself into a seated position. What was it? How did it know all of those people? Why would it show me any of that?

Xia Luo was trembling. Whether from shock, fear, or the effort of suppressing the memory of the people she had seen embodied by that dark entity, it didn’t matter. Shifting once more and noting the slight change in daylight, Xia Luo remembered what she had been doing.

The Night Hunt! How long has it been since I left the group? I need to make it back.

With the movement of getting to her feet came the feeling of something sliding down her inner robe. Panicked by the feeling, Xia Luo patted her body down before untying her belt to let whatever it was fall through.

Huh? Isn’t this…

On the ground was half of the jade pendant she wore around her neck, the very one given to her by the woman in town on the day she killed the yao beast. Xia Luo reached up to find the other half of the pendant, but to her surprise, there was nothing on the cord. She took the cord from around her neck and looked down at her chest to see what looked like a powdery substance on her skin and wraps.

Powder? Could it be jade powder?

The piece of the jade pendant she held in her hand had a perfectly clean cut that left her with the back half of an ox, the original having been a depiction of the town’s ox deity. Xia Luo was at a loss as to how the pendant could have been sliced in half and also pulverized, especially without leaving a mark on her body. Her back was sore from getting slammed into the rock, but she didn’t note any injuries at present. Not knowing what to think of the encounter, Xia Luo bent down to pick up Yongyao and her fan, but stopped before her hand closed around the fan. The tiger pendant Xia Gongmin had given her as a protective talisman was also split in half, the cut just as clean as the one on the ox pendant. Just as with the ox pendant, the second half was nothing more than jade powder on the ground.

Xia Luo picked up the fan and the remaining half of the talisman, this time depicting the front half of its beast. Tentatively, and with great skepticism, Xia Luo brought the two halves of the jade pieces together. Aside from having clean cuts that made the pieces fit together, the way the pieces had been split also meant the front and back halves of the animals fit together seamlessly.

You’d think it was intentional , thought Xia Luo.

Hastily, she tucked the pendant pieces away along with her fan and took to the air on Yongyao. Xia Luo was just thinking about how to explain her probably disheveled appearance to the Lan boys when some movement from below caught her attention. Through the canopy, she could make out the lumbering forms of some walking corpses headed in the direction of the seal she had set. Glad to see that her method had worked and that even if she was late meeting up with the boys she would have something to show for it, she sped ahead of the corpses to the meeting point.

“There you are!” yelled Lan Jingyi. “Hey, you look kind of rough. Did something happen?”

Xia Luo didn’t waste any time before writing in the dirt.

“Walking corpses coming this way,” read Lan Jingyi. “Really? So it worked!”

Lan Sizhui nodded in approval, though he still looked at Xia Luo sideways. It was obvious he was curious about why she looked like she had been rolling around on the ground.

A minute later, the smell of rotting flesh assaulted their noses as five corpses shuffled into the clearing.

“Yeesh, they reek!” said Lan Jingyi, covering his nose with his sleeve. “Well, give the word, Sizhui.”

Lan Sizhui took a moment to observe the corpses, then gave his command. “Jingyi on the left, Xia Luo in the middle, and I’ll take the right. They’re slow, but still be careful. Watch out for corpse toxin. Go!”

The three youths fanned out to go after their respective targets. Two streaks of blue light and one streak of bronze cut through the air as swords cut through the rotting bodies of the corpses. Lan Jingyi took down his corpse with a beautiful swipe to the back of its neck while Lan Sizhui decapitated two corpses in succession. Between them, Xia Luo rushed her first corpse and struck at it to split its head clean in half, then turned on her heel to aim her next hit. The final corpse lurched forward and opened its mouth so that its putrid breath fouled the air around it.

The next four steps that Xia Luo took felt as though time had slowed. The first step made the face on the corpse turn into swirling black mist, its features indiscernible before the second step brought clarity. Upon seeing its features settle into those of her mother, Xia Luo felt a fury rise in her unbidden. In the space between the second and third steps, fury pumped itself through her limbs until her fingers twitched around Yongyao’s hilt.

When her boot hit the ground on the third step, Xia Luo’s vision darkened around the edges; all she could see was the mottled face of her mother, its lips mouthing something that turned Xia Luo’s fury into frigid resentment. Her foot hardly touched the ground as she pushed off with her fourth step as she plunged Yongyao into the open mouth of the corpse.

In the air, the rank smell of rot and decay lingered from the slain corpses. Four rotten bodies lay immobile on the ground by the feet of Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui who stared at the scene in shock.

As if frozen in time, Xia Luo held her stance, her arm outstretched with Yongyao extended straight ahead. Rammed through to the hilt, the corpse that had taken on her mother’s face once again became a stranger to her, and the words it had mouthed at Xia Luo felt distant and dreamlike.

The corpse slumped and placed all its weight onto Yongyao. Feeling the change, Xia Luo drew Yongyao’s blade from the corpse’s mouth with one rapid movement. She watched the corpse fall to the ground, its shattered jaw and rotten skin as different from her mother’s pristine face as physically possible.

What is happening? Part of Xia Luo was seriously disturbed by what had just transpired, but the part of her that still vibrated with the remnants of the resentment that had overtaken her fought with what might have otherwise caused her to panic.

Lowering Yongyao’s tip to face the ground, Xia Luo let the viscera drip from the blade, her mind preoccupied with trying to shake the feeling that she was not in control of herself.

Jiujiu told me stories about warriors experiencing bloodlust on the battlefield, but that can’t be what this was. This was nothing more than felling some corpses. It’s nothing compared to some of the yao beasts I’ve taken down, and I never felt like this in those situations.

Visions of the shape-shifting dark entity resurfaced in her mind. She turned around and made eye contact with Lan Sizhui whose eyes only showed a hint of what he was thinking. Xia Luo froze. She had half the mind to ask them what they had seen, to ask if they had seen the corpse’s face change, but somehow she already knew the answer.

“Woah, Xia Luo, you must have had some pent up energy. That was quite the blow!” said Lan Jingyi, his voice loud as he broke the silence in the clearing. “You really let that corpse have it! What did it ever do to you, huh?” he joked, forcing out a laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Lan Sizhui kept on looking at Xia Luo. Eager to put the whole thing behind her, Xia Luo wrote out a note in the dirt with Yongyao.

“How is the woodcutter,” Lan Jingyi read. “The woodcutter? Don’t you think we should take a minute to ask about how you’re doing? What was that just now?” Even though he had laughed only a minute ago, he still came back to where his curiosity demanded he put his attention.

“Xia Luo asks a good question,” said Lan Sizhui, butting in before Lan Jingyi could continue further. “The woodcutter woke up just after I arrived at the woodshed. He was a bit disoriented, so I thought he had hit his head. However, there was no sign of injury anywhere on him. It doesn’t look like the corpses had anything to do with it either.”

“Mn.” Xia Luo thought it over, then wrote in the dirt again.

“Did he see anything strange?”

“I asked him that, but he didn’t mention anything,” said Lan Sizhui.

Surely he’d remember if he’d seen something like I had, so maybe him passing out is just coincidence. Even though Xia Luo told herself this, she didn’t buy it. The way she saw it, the similarities between the way she had gone unconscious in the woods and the way they had found the woodcutter were just too great to be written off as coincidence.

Even if the woodcutter couldn’t remember seeing anything strange, and even if her companions hadn’t seen the corpse’s face change, she couldn’t deny what she had experienced. What concerned her was how real what she had experienced was. Although she was certain she had seen a dark entity that changed form and could mimic faces and behaviors of people she knew, she could not be certain that what she had seen was unseeable by anyone else. It was this thought that scared her.

“Hey, Xia Luo,” said Lan Jingyi. “Are you sure you’re alright? Did something happen in the woods when we split up? It’s just,” he said, reaching up to pluck a leaf from her hair, “you look a little ruffled, you know?”

How could Xia Luo even begin to explain what had happened when she hardly understood it herself? If it wasn’t for the dull ache in her back from the impact of hitting the rock when the entity had gone through her, Xia Luo might have chalked the whole thing up to exhaustion and stress from the previous week. As for being alright, that was besides the point.

“Mn,” Xia Luo grunted. Looking down at her boots, she could see Lan Jingyi exchange a look with Lan Sizhui. Xia Luo could feel the distance between herself and the Lan boys. Even though the three had spent a majority of their free time around each other since she had come to the Cloud Recesses, she hadn’t actually gotten close with them. She thought they were nice, even if she found Lan Jingyi to be loud and a bit much, but she hadn’t made any emotional bonds with them. Having never navigated friendships before in her life, there was no way for Xia Luo to understand that bonds were made by sharing one’s thoughts and feelings with others and being there to share in their thoughts and feelings. For this reason, Xia Luo remained on her own little island and kept her troubles to herself, wondering all the way back to the Cloud Recesses about what had happened, the fading feeling of fury and resentment turning in her chest.

* * * * *

Xia Gongmin’s fingers twitched by his side, hidden from view by his wide purple sleeves. Unclean Realm guards bowed as they drew open the gates to grant him admission, all of them greeting him by title despite how long it had been since he had served by Nie Mingjue’s side. Although he had been to the Unclean Realm in the time since Nie Mingjue’s death, he had spent little time around Nie Huaisang and even less time with him one on one.

When Xia Shunchao had revealed her plan to send Xia Luo away to the Cloud Recesses, Xia Gongmin had begun debating how he might approach Nie Huaisang in order to soften the blow when everything came to light. Once Xia Shunchao revealed the secret behind Xia Luo’s parentage to the general public, he had made up his mind to speak with Nie Huaisang to clear the air immediately.

Now that he had arrived at the Unclean Realm, however, his hands had gone clammy.

Pathetic, he thought. I used to fight alongside Chifeng-zun on the front lines and never broke a sweat. How many times did I have to tell him things he didn’t want to hear and risk his wrath without flinching? Tch.

He crossed the familiar school grounds where he had often seen a young Nie Huaisang halfheartedly practicing with a saber while his older brother watched, his arms crossed and a look of disapproval on his face. Even now, fifteen years since he had last seen Nie Mingjue alive, being here brought memories rushing back in vivid detail: Nie Huaisang, no more than a young teen, struggling to lift a saber; Nie Mingjue, still in his teen years, striding out to demonstrate the proper technique; Nie Huaisang, slightly older, fanning himself and complaining from the middle of the training ground; a young adult Nie Mingjue shaking his head and continuing to hone Baxia on a whetstone.

All of these images flashed by with every step Xia Gongmin took. Nostalgia colored everything he saw like the sweet coating that ensconced sugarcoated haws and made them shiny and bright. He paused before reaching the steps to the main hall, a deep sense of loss welling up in his chest. How many hundreds of hours had he spent here with the Nie brothers, advising one and watching the other grow? He stared over the training grounds until a voice brought him back to the present.

“Xia Gongmin,” a voice said from behind him, “how nice to have you here again.”

On the stairs stood Nie Huaisang, a smile on his lips and his fan held loosely in his right hand.

“Chief Cultivator,” Xia Gongmin greeted, bowing respectfully before the Nie Clan leader. 

“This place must bring back memories for you,” Nie Huaisang said, “as it certainly brings back plenty for me seeing you standing here again.” He smiled wider and gave a welcoming gesture. “Can I interest you in a walk about the gardens, or in something to eat or drink?”

“Thank you, you are most considerate, but I am in want for nothing at the moment,” Xia Gongmin declined with a dip of his head.

Nie Huaisang flicked his fan open and snapped it shut, his deameanor light and easy. He looked perfectly at ease, nothing like the uncertain boy he used to be. Xia Gongmin had heard that he had played a role in taking down Jin Guangyao and that “The Headshaker” was just a character he had created to keep himself out of Jin Guangyao’s suspicions. If what people were saying about Nie Huaisang was true, then he was far more capable and cunning than anyone could have guessed.

“Shall we go inside, then, and find someplace private to speak?” suggested Nie Huaisang. “You know,” he continued after Xia Gongmin nodded in response, “I was surprised to receive your letter requesting an audience. When was the last time we spoke face to face? It has to have been years,” he said, perfectly amicable.

“Yes, it has been a number of years. I’ve kept myself busy in the courts, and as there’s been no war, I haven’t had a reason to come and bother you,” said Xia Gongmin. “Besides, I would be remiss not to say that the thought of returning to the Unclean Realm wasn’t one full of complicated emotions.”

Nie Huaisang gave Xia Gongmin a look of empathetic understanding. “Even after all these years, I still expect to see Da-ge practicing with his saber in the courtyard sometimes,” he  said with a sigh.

Xia Gongmin looked at this man who he hardly knew anymore. Although they shared a history, their tangential relationship had stayed in the past. Neither one had carried it forward, not out of a dislike for one another, but because the lynchpin had been pulled out and buried. Were it not for this history, Xia Gongmin would have been far more anxious for this meeting than he already was upon entering his clan leader’s personal chambers.

On the whole, not much had changed in the Unclean Realm. There were perhaps more pieces of artwork than before, but the place looked very much like he remembered it. Heavy curtains framed the windows and added a touch of softness to the stone walls, and fans and paintings decorated the larger open spaces on them.

As a place built for warriors and huntsmen, the Unclean Realm looked and felt a bit more like a fortress or garrison than it did a palace. Even the clan leader’s chambers and reception hall were stocky and stout, nothing at all like the lofty halls of the Jin Clan, the breezy buildings of the Jiang Clan, or the simple yet elegant structures of the Lan Clan. Here, heft and might embodied itself in the architecture; there was no doubt about what the people who lived here were like.

Nie Huaisang stood in contrast to it all, his flowing sleeves and sweeping robes almost delicate against the comparatively harsh backdrop. That said, it only took one glance for Xia Gongmin to know that Nie Huaisang was not a weak man. Although his eyes were softer than his older brother’s, they were also far more deceptive. If Nie Mingjue had lived in black and white, Nie Huaisang was a child of gray; the two brothers couldn’t have been more different.

The chamber Nie Huaisang selected was a different office to the one Chifeng-zun had used. Not for the first time, Xia Gongmin wondered how Nie Huaisang had navigated coming up in Nie Mingjue’s shadow and how heavy the crown of the clan leader felt on his head.

“Please, help yourself to whichever seat you like,” said Nie Huaisang, gesturing broadly to the comfortable cushions set in front of a fine wooden desk. He took the seat behind the desk and set his fan in a delicate holder. Of everything that had changed, it was clear that his love of fine things, especially of fans, had stayed constant.

“Now,” began Nie Huaisang with a casual flick of his sleeves, “what business did you want to discuss? Oh, I should ask, how is your sister?” Nie Huaisang folded his hands together and tipped his head at Xia Gongmin.

It was such a benign motion, and had it been in any other situation, Xia Gongmin would not have thought anything of it. At this moment, however, Xia Gongmin’s blood ran cold.

“Shunchao is a strong-willed woman,” he responded. “I feel as though she would thrive in any situation.”

Nie Huaisang smiled and gave an off-handed chuckle. “I believe I’ve only ever met her on one occasion many years ago. I want to say it was at a festival, though I can’t quite remember.”

“I think you’re right. It might have been a lantern festival; Chifeng-zun and I met for a number of them, and I can recall bringing her with me once. Of course, you were with Chifeng-zun for those festivals,” said Xia Gongmin.

“Mm, yes, that was it! Da-ge picked out mooncakes for all of us, but I dropped mine. Your sister insisted that I have hers.” Nie Huaisang shook his head, the smile still on his lips. “She was quite striking, if my memory serves. I thought she was a fine woman with dignified features.”

My sister. Dignified. Xia Gongmin didn’t manage to return the smile.

“Shunchao is a striking woman, yes,” he conceded.

Nie Huaisang tipped his head, this time in a show of confusion and his sleeves fluttered as he reached for his fan. “Is it true that she never married? It’s surprising that a woman from your family would go unmarried for so long; the Xia family has a noble background and a long history of service with the Nie Clan.”

Does he already know everything? If he does, then is he being charitable? Xia Gongmin was wound so tightly in his anxiety that he could feel a nerve behind his eye beginning to twitch. Xia Gongmin decided enough was enough. He stood from his seat, then stepped to the side of the desk so he was in full view of Nie Huaisang. With a sweep of his sleeves he dropped to his knees and bowed.

“Chief Cultivator, I came today to beg for forgiveness.”

Neither man moved. Xia Gongmin knelt with his hands clasped in front of him, unwavering. Nie Huaisang, with his fan in front of his face, looked down.

“Xia Gongmin,” said Nie Huaisang, his voice sweet and containing only the slightest note of surprise. “What could you have done that would require my forgiveness?”

Xia Gongmin’s voice didn’t waver when he replied. “I have kept a secret for many years. Sixteen years ago, Xia Shunchao took advantage of Chifeng-zun and bore a child, which you know. For the last fifteen years, that child has lived at the Xia residence and has trained as a cultivator, largely cut off from the world outside the estate. When the child turned fifteen a few months ago, Shunchao revealed to us both that the child would be attending lessons at the Cloud Recesses for the next year.” Here, Xia Gongmin paused. “Had the child remained at the Xia estate and continued in relative social obscurity, I would not have had any reason to come to you today. While I disagree with the way Shunchao raised the child, it would not have held any real consequences.”

Xia Gongmin was still bowing so that all he could see was the floor. Even if he had been watching Nie Huaisang while he spoke he wouldn’t have seen anything for him to judge what the Chief Cultivator was thinking.

“However,” said Nie Huaisang, gently prompting the bowing man to continue.

“However, I was not informed of the plan to send the child away, and so I worry about the outcome of this situation,” said Xia Gongmin. He took a deep breath. “Chief Cultivator Huaisang, your brother sired a child by the name of Xia Luo, but he was mistaken about the child’s sex. Xia Luo is a girl, raised by Shunchao as a boy. At this moment, Xia Luo is attending lessons on the very same side of the Cloud Recesses’s mountains that you and Nie Mingjue did years ago.”

Silence hung in the air until it was punctuated by the sound of a fan opening and closing.

“To clarify, I have a niece who is disguised as a boy among the male cultivators of the Gusu Lan Clan,” said Nie Huaisang. He opened and closed his fan again. “Xia Gongmin, why would you tell me this?”

Xia Gongmin was about to reply but caught himself when he noticed the omission of a word. Nie Huaisang had not asked him why he only told him about this now , but why he had told him at all.

Would he have rathered he didn’t know anything of the matter? Would he truly prefer to be able to shake his head about this?

Nie Huaisang sighed and fanned himself. “Rise,” he told Xia Gongmin. “Remind me of how long Xia Luo has been at Gusu.”

“A few months,” said Xia Gongmin, raising his head slowly before getting to his feet.

“Months?” repeated Nie Huaisang, actual surprise in his voice. “The male cultivators of Gusu Lan might be unfamiliar with those of the opposite sex, but I find it unlikely they would be so dense as to not notice a girl amongst them by now.”

“Shunchao was quite thorough in ensuring Xia Luo possessed no defineably female traits. Xia Luo carries herself like a boy and has the benefit of a tall stature,” said Xia Gongmin. “Her voice has been trained, her handwriting is similar to Chifeng-zun’s, and she has the required strength built through a decade of practice to wield a saber. That said, she has grown up using the sword Chifeng-zun left for her. All in all, she plays a convincing boy, at least if that boy is stoic and disciplined.”

A laugh sounded from behind Nie Huaisang’s fan. “Ah, Xia Gongmin, what a mess we have.” Nie Huaisang toyed with his fan, then got up and walked over to a large tapestry on the wall. “What will we do when Xia Luo is inevitably found out? I doubt that she has plans to live out her whole life as a boy,” he said, turning to look at Xia Gongmin.

Xia Gongmin shook his head. “I don't know what she is thinking. She went silent the night she learned everything, and I doubt she has spoken about the matter with anyone at the Cloud Recesses.”

“Mn. So then, a partial truth is out. Word moves quickly, so those who do not yet know my brother had a child will know soon enough. I assume the reveal was also done by your sister?” Nie Huaisang said with a pointed glance at Xia Gongmin.

“My first duty is to the Nie Clan, so whether I cause harm intentionally or through ignorance, I will always submit to rightful judgment.”

“You will take the punishment on Xia Shunchao’s behalf, then?”

Xia Gongmin’s face darkened, but he answered evenly. “I will.”

Nie Huaisang regarded him, then turned back to the tapestry. “You’ve always been an honest man,” he said. “My brother only had good things to say about you, so I am inclined to believe your version of events. That said, I can’t think how my Lan acquaintances would feel about being duped by my own niece when she is exposed. It would be a very bad look for me, indeed.”

Xia Gongmin watched the younger man’s back, the swooping gold-winged birds on the tapestry before him looking as if they would pluck him up and take him away at any moment. “Clan Leader, what would you have me do?” he asked.

“What would you propose, I wonder?” asked Nie Huaisang, his fan flicking open.

There was silence between them as Xia Gongmin thought. “So long as Xia Luo is not blamed for choosing this path of deceit, I have no suggestions.”

A chuckle floated around the room to settle at Xia Gongmin’s feet. “Even now you won’t suggest the simplest option there is. You truly are an honest man.” Nie Huaisang sighed, then turned on his heel to look at Xia Gongmin. “I know nothing of this matter. Whenever Xia Luo is exposed, I will be shocked to learn that she is a girl. The fallout in that regard will be mine to deal with, but the creation of the situation will be yours and your sister’s. So far as I know,” he said, returning to his desk, “I have a nephew by the name of Xia Luo. Anything else will be news to me.”

Xia Gongmin set his jaw and eyed the young man whose fan danced in his hand to obscure his face. This was not Nie Mingjue, nor was it the uncertain, shy boy he once knew Nie Huaisang to be. He has grown up in his own way , he thought, much like A-Luo. I wonder who she will become.

* * * * *

“What a surprise,” said Lan Xichen, stepping aside so his guest could enter. “What brings you here that Wangji would not also come?”

“What, I can’t come to see my own brother-in-law without Lan Zhan?” said Wei Wuxian, his step bouncy as he entered the main space of the Cold Room. “It’s not right that you’re here alone all the time, so I decided to come by! Besides, Lan Zhan is preparing lessons for the disciples. They get back from their Night Hunt tonight, if all goes well.”

“Ah, the Night Hunt. Wangji mentioned this a few days ago,” replied Lan Xichen. “I assume you know why he came by. Are you here to continue that conversation?”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes went wide. “Xichen-gege, how could you see right through me! I was at least going to start some small talk and see how you’re doing.”

Lan Xichen sighed and softened his gaze, although Wei Wuxian wondered how that was possible given how gentle his eyes always were.

“Of course, please forgive me,” he said. “It is good of you to come by. Would you care for some tea?”

Easy to please as always, Wei Wuxian grinned and nodded emphatically. “I’d love some tea!”

He followed Lan Xichen into a sitting area and flopped on the floor to watch him prepare the tea. Even a quick glance told Wei Wuxian that Lan Xichen was still too thin and not sleeping well; his wrists appeared bony when they showed from under his sleeves, and his face was gaunt with dark circles under the eyes.

It had only been a few months since the incident with Jin Guangyao at the Guanyin temple, but everyone had hoped to see more progress in Lan Xichen’s health. As it was, he still looked grief-stricken and hung up on how things had ended, and Wei Wuxian could understand why. His younger sworn brother had not only murdered his older sworn brother, but turned him into a fierce corpse as well. Now, he was the only one left among the three sworn brothers and was left questioning many things that he had been certain of before. Although Wei Wuxian had not been privy to Lan Xichen’s relationship with Nie Mingjue, what he had heard from others told him that the two had been very close and that Lan Xichen was the only one who could calm the latter’s temper. Lan Wangji had even said that he had never seen his older brother laugh as much as he did when in Nie Mingjue’s company and that Nie Mingjue almost never scowled when Lan Xichen was with him. As for Jin Guangyao, he and Lan Xichen had built a friendship out of trust and circumstance that, although one-sided, stayed strong until the end. Without his sworn brothers, it was easy to understand why he felt alone despite having a family that loved and cared for him.

With all the grace expected of one of the Twin Jades of Gusu, Lan Xichen set the tea tray down between them without a sound, then sat down to pour the tea. He was quiet, his expression warm in Wei Wuxian’s company, yet unreadable. Wei Wuxian got the impression that his mind was preparing for when Wei Wuxian inevitably brought up Xia Luo. He accepted his cup of tea and observed the shape of Lan Xichen’s brows and how they were straighter than Lan Wangji’s. He took in the upward curve of his eyes and the softer edge of his cheekbones, thinking to himself that the brothers truly looked like twin jade carvings.

“Xichen-gege,” said Wei Wuxian, “since you seem to have set your mind on the purpose of this visit, I won’t bother you with other talk.”

Lan Xichen looked up from his tea, his eyes focusing after a moment of confusion as though he had forgotten there was someone seated across from him.

“Forgive me, my mind is elsewhere,” he said, his expression immediately apologetic. “I cannot seem to keep my thoughts in the present moment.”

“I understand, in my own way. The past always leaves questions for the present, but the present never stays in the past; those questions always follow us,” said Wei Wuxian.

Lan Xichen managed a small smile. “Yes, they do.”

Since he didn’t appear to be willing to broach the topic, Wei Wuxian took the initiative.

“Nie Mingjue’s child has come to the Cloud Recesses,” he began, sitting up straight. “This child, Xia Luo, has performed exceptionally well thus far, excelling above his peers in class and competing on a level with Sizhui in most subjects. Lan Zhan tells me he is perfectly attentive in class and that he can even recall more of the Lan regulations than some of the Lan disciples. He is fierce with his weapon and shows great promise in becoming a renowned cultivator if he keeps to this path.” Here, Wei Wuxian paused. “That said, the boy has sworn a vow of silence and is distant with his peers. When word got out about his parentage, he fled town and hid in his room; according to the juniors, he had a breakdown and has been even more withdrawn than before.”

A wrinkle appeared between Lan Xichen’s brows. “Was his parentage news to him?”

“The juniors believe he already knew but reacted so badly because it was supposed to be a secret,” said Wei Wuxian. Just as when he had started this line of thinking with Lan Wangji, he became excited. “Isn’t it strange that a bastard son of Nie Mingjue would turn up now, and that he would be sworn to silence?”

“It is strange,” Lan Xichen admitted, “but it is all speculation. If the child refuses to share with his peers what the matter is, then there is not much we can do.”

“Oh, but there is,” said Wei Wuxian. He leaned forward on the table. “You’re his father’s sworn brother; if anyone could get the kid to open up, it would be his martial uncle.”

Lan Xichen’s expression clouded and he shook his head. “I’m not here to pry into his life, or to leverage a distant relationship.”

“You misunderstand me, Xichen-gege!” Wei Wuxian said, his hands waving in front of him. “I’m not talking about leveraging a relationship, but about building one! The juniors say the kid seems angry underneath the calm, so they think his relationship with his family isn’t a good one. If that’s true, then he’s alone on this journey.”

“What would you have me do, then?” asked Lan Xichen, his voice filled with exhaustion.

“Take him on as your disciple.”

Lan Xichen started. “Pardon?”

“Make him your disciple and give him guidance. If he’s already angry at this age and keeps on with cultivation, then as the Nie Clan heir he’s going to be susceptible to qi deviation,” Wei Wuxian pressed. Even though this was technically a legitimate concern, Wei Wuxian only mentioned it because he needed to stir Lan Xichen into action. He’d been stagnant for too long, and the reminder of the very real threat of qi deviation to blood members of the Nie lineage was likely to spur him into motion.

“There is much time between now and when something like that would start to become a threat,” said Lan Xichen.

“Of course,” replied Wei Wuxian, tracing the rim of his cup with his finger, “but it’s always better to be proactive. Chifeng-zun’s own father died when Nie Mingjue was still rather young, and that caused a major disturbance. Without someone to guide him afterwards, it’s possible-” he said, but was cut off by Lan Xichen.

“It wasn’t a matter of guidance.”

Wei Wuxian leaned away from the table. “No, I suppose not. It was circumstance, and what I see with Xia Luo is that circumstance will not be in his favor.”

“What makes you say that?”

“When the juniors came to tell me and Lan Zhan what happened when the news broke in town, they were very adamant in making sure that I understood that Xia Luo wasn’t just angry, not even furious, but resentful ,” said Wei Wuxian, his tone taking on just a hint of the conspiratorial. “Now, I didn’t get to see the kid, nor have I interacted with him in person, but resentment is one of the last feelings I would expect to see in him. Unless, of course, he’s been hiding it until now.”

Lan Xichen frowned. “Your dealings with resentment are in relation to the dead. What does this have to do with the living?”

Wei Wuxian regarded him curiously for a moment before Lan Xichen pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes.

“No, of course resentment in the living is important at any stage. I misspoke.”

“Xichen-gege, I think this kid needs someone to guide him through these trials” said Wei Wuxian, pressing ahead. “It’s clear he won’t open up to his peers, and if he’s on bad terms with his family, then he needs someone to go to. You’re his martial uncle; you know more about Nie Mingjue than anyone, save his brother, and who knows what terms they have between them.”

At the mention of Nie Huaisang, Lan Xichen looked troubled as his thoughts turned once again to the events at the Guanyin temple. “What terms…”

Wei Wuxian felt sorry for him. Of all the people to suffer at the hands of Jin Guangyao, he was the one Wei Wuxian felt the most sympathy for. It was out of sympathy that Wei Wuxian was insistent on bringing Lan Xichen to a point where he would talk himself into coming out to meet the Xia Luo.

“With so much uncertainty,” he said, finishing off the tea in his cup, “especially in regards to his place in the Nie family, having you by his side would be indispensable.”

Lan Xichen closed his eyes. Even in his frail state, he retained the elegance of a crane. Wei Wuxian silently willed him to concede, for his sake as well as the boy’s.

“You are persistent,” Lan Xichen said after a while. “I will consider coming out to meet him, but I make no promises.”

“I would never ask for a promise,” Wei Wuxian assured him. He stood up and thanked Lan Xichen for the tea. “The disciples have their sword lessons in the afternoon, so Xichen-gege might consider coming then. There are plenty of places to observe from the sidelines so you can make a decision for yourself.”

The two parted shortly after that, and Lan Xichen stood watching Wei Wuxian’s retreating back from the covered steps outside. After the diminishing figure finally vanished, Lan Xichen pulled Liebing from his belt and put it to his lips. With great hesitation, he played a few wavering notes from a song he hadn’t played in years before lowering the xiao, tears glistening in his eyes. He pressed Liebing to his chest, took a deep breath, and closed himself up inside the Cold Room once more.

Chapter Text

By the time the three juniors made it back to the Cloud Recesses, other groups of disciples were also returning to report to their assigned teachers. Since Lan Sizhui was Hanguang-jun’s disciple, Xia Luo found herself following after him and Lan Jingyi to a part of the Recesses she hadn’t seen before.

It was quiet and peaceful in this area of the mountain, but the kind of quiet was different from the rest of the Cloud Recesses; here, the quiet was light and welcoming, not ascetic or scholarly. The faint smell of food cooking scented the air and added to the inviting atmosphere.

It doesn’t smell like the usual Lan fare , Xia Luo thought.

“Hanguang-zun, we’ve returned!” Lan Sizhui called into the open doorway of a cottage. Although the cottage was built according to the Lan style, it felt full of life and energy.

Lan Jingyi leaned over to whisper to Xia Luo, although his voice came out at a normal talking volume. “This is where Hanguang-zun and Wei-qianbei live,” he said.

Hanguang-jun lives here? Mn, and Wei-qianbei must be —

Before Xia Luo could get any further in her thought a man with bright eyes poked his head out of the doorway, exclaimed something unintelligible, and popped back out of view.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan!” the man called, from behind the door. “Lan Zhan, they’re here!”

As quick as he had come and gone, he was back again, this time striding out to stand before the juniors, his hands on his hips and his head cocked to the side.

Wei Wuxian, the former Yiling Patriarch and new inhabitant of Mo Xuanyu’s body. He’s… very bouncy.

Xia Luo made her observations quickly before clasping her hands to bow in greeting. Of course, she’d heard the stories of Wei Wuxian and his deeds before he died in the Burial Grounds, but most of them came as second-hand accounts, save for the few her uncle had shared with her.

“Chifeng-zun agreed to the siege at the Burial Mounds to end the Yiling Patriarch’s reign,” came Xia Gongmin’s voice in her head.

“Ooh, you must be Xia Luo!” chirped Wei Wuxian.

Xia Luo straightened up and gave a small nod. Her relation to Chifeng-zun suddenly felt a little awkward and indecent in Wei Wuxian’s presence.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji stepped out of the cottage, eliciting a bow from all three disciples.

“Yes yes yes, the report! Sizhui, go ahead and tell Lan Zhan about the Night Hunt. Jingyi, you too! I want to meet you ,” said Wei Wuxian, focusing his bright eyes on Xia Luo.

It feels like he’s looking into my soul , thought Xia Luo. He might seem bouncy and carefree, but it’s obvious the Yiling Patriarch still exists in there.

“Wow, you sure do look like him,” breathed Wei Wuxian. “You’re prettier than he was, but it’s obvious Chifeng-zun is in there.”

His words mirrored Xia Luo’s own thoughts about him which made her breath hitch. It really felt like he was looking through her.

Prettier?

Wei Wuxian clicked his tongue and put a hand up to measure their heights. “You’re nearly as tall as me! Lan Zhan, he’s so tall already! That’s no fair; you know, I used to be the same height as Lan Zhan, but now I have this body which is shorter and weaker.” Wei Wuxian leaned down while he was talking so he could try to peer into her eyes that were covered by her bangs.

Xia Luo was about to flinch away from the hand that reached out to move her bangs aside when Lan Wangji’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Wei Ying.”

“Ah, no fun, Lan Zhan! I just wanted a good look at him.” Wei Wuxian humphed and stood back, his disappointment momentary. “So it’s true!” he exclaimed, bouncing forward to come right up to Xia Luo’s side.

Taking a step to the side to reclaim some of her personal space, Xia Luo glanced up to catch Lan Jingyi watching with a mix of curiosity and sympathy on his face. Lan Sizhui was doing his best to stay focused while explaining the events of the Night Hunt to Lan Wangji.

“What a sword,” remarked Wei Wuxian, his face close to Xia Luo as he observed the hilt and scabbard. “Mind if I take a look? It’s so strange for a Nie not to have a saber.” Before Xia Luo could respond, he had already drawn Yongyao from its hilt and held it up to admire.

Xia Luo felt bewildered and turned around by the man’s erratic behavior. Of all the people she had met thus far, he was proving to be the one who confounded her the most, both in actions and in speech.

“Yongyao,” said Wei Wuxian, reading the inscription on the blade. “That’s a good name for a Nie blade, but I wonder why it’s not a saber. Say, didn’t Chifeng-zun give you this? It looks fine enough to be a gift from the Unclean Realm for sure.” Finally, Wei Wuxian paused in his movements and talk to wait for a response, but then answered himself anyway before Xia Luo could even shrug to indicate she didn’t know who it was really from.

“Ah, you can’t speak! I almost forgot you were mute for the time being,” Wei Wuxian said, before continuing his one-sided conversation. “I can’t imagine Chifeng-zun would give anything but a saber as a gift to his own son, so I’m inclined to think this didn’t come from him. It’s so strange,” he said, turning the sword over in his hands and giving it a few twirls to test its weight. “It’s lighter than a saber by a bit, and definitely heavier than a sword by a good amount. Why would someone make a sword almost as hefty as a saber for you?”

Xia Luo’s brow was deeply creased in consternation.

He sure does know how to follow a line of thought through to an end. What end that is or how likely it is, I couldn’t guess.

“Do you study saber technique?”

Finally, Xia Luo was able to nod in response.

“Interesting,” Wei Wuxian mused to himself. He was about to continue when Lan Wangj came to his side and plucked Yongyao from his hands. “Hey!”

“Leave him, Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji held Yongyao out to Xia Luo with both hands which she received in kind and returned to its scabbard.

“Turn in your notes tomorrow,” he said over his shoulder.

“Yes, Hanguang-jun,” Lan Sizhui replied.

Looking between them, Xia Luo could sense a warmth from both of them.

Hanguang-jun adopted Lan Sizhui , she recalled from a conversation with Lan Jingyi. Considering Lan Sizhui’s closeness with Lan Jingyi and Hanguang-jun’s relationship with Wei Wuxian, the whole group made for an interesting unit.

“Is there anything else you need from us, Hanguang-jun?” asked Lan Sizhui.

“No, that is all. Go rest.”

Although the reply was curt, it was said gently and eased Lan Jingyi’s worries that their report hadn’t been good enough.

“We still don’t know why the woodcutter passed out like that,” he said on their walk back to the dormitories. “Or why those corpses were there in the first place.”

“You heard what Hanguang-jun said; sometimes corpses just show up, and sometimes people just faint. I don’t think we need to worry about it,” said Lan Sizhui. “Oh, and Xia Luo, don’t take Wei-qianbei too seriously,” he said, turning to her.

“Yeah,” said Lan Jingyi, taking a few quick steps to pull ahead of Lan Sizhui so he could see Xia Luo properly as they walked. “He’s always like that, making assumptions and talking so you can’t get a word in.”

I know someone else like that, thought Xia Luo.

“He just loves to solve mysteries, and if even you don’t know who gave you that sword, then it’s certainly a mystery,” said Lan Sizhui. Xia Luo sighed, and seeing this, Lan Sizhui changed the topic.

“We should go into town after we turn in our notes and get them approved tomorrow,” he said. “We ought to celebrate your first Night Hunt with us.”

“Yeah, we really should! Your technique of using pig blood to lure in the corpses saved us a lot of time,” said Lan Jingyi. “I still think the technique is a bit questionable, but —”

Lan Sizhui cut him off. “Every clan has their own way of doing things, Jingyi. Now, let’s call it for today and go relax. Dinner will be soon, but I think we have time to wash up before that.”

The two Lan boys peeled off and waved to Xia Luo who continued walking to the guest disciples’ dormitory hall on her own.

* * * * *

There didn’t seem to be anything that could keep Xia Luo’s attention.

After returning to her room the night before, she had mulled over the remaining halves of the amulets that had broken and turned to powder. Hours into uneasy thinking and hypothesizing, she had finally fallen asleep with one piece grasped in each hand and had woken with the imprints of the edges pressed into her palms.

All throughout their note hand-off to Lan Wangji and during the walk into town, Xia Luo remained distant and hard to reach, like there was a thick fog obscuring her from the tangible world around her. She was so distant that Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui were able to have a quick, whispered back-and-forth with one another speculating on what had happened and debating on how to broach the topic to find out. Xia Luo heard nothing and was none the wiser.

Town was busy and bustling that morning, the streets filled with people attending the main market that took place that day each week. Many people came in from the countryside to sell their wares, so the streets were full of vendors selling produce from overflowing baskets or laid out on large woven mats. Everywhere was full of color, the abundance of summer painting the streets with all the hues of the rainbow. Countless smells wafted from the piles of fruit and the various portable stalls selling cooked foods, many of them new to Xia Luo.

There were the usual fruits and vegetables that she recognized, but there were plenty that were foreign to her. Even though the Nie and Lan territories bordered one another, their terrains were different enough that they each had unique produce, and that was saying nothing about the cuisine itself.

Since Xia Luo had arrived at Gusu Lan, she had suffered through the medicinal fare served at meal times and held out for the days when she could eat food that fed her soul. The transition hadn’t been an easy one, either, from Nie food to the vegetarian dishes the Lan cultivators ate at the Cloud Recesses. Too many times had she put on a brave face to take down the food set before her, and too many times had she endured stomach pains and upset from the high levels of plant matter she was expected to consume. Not a few times did she grumble to herself that she wasn’t an ox out at pasture.

To get by and to save her stomach from persistent troubles, Xia Luo had covertly purchased some herbal remedies that she took before lunch and dinner, which she found to be quite effective. Lan Sizhui was the only one who knew of this and had kept quiet about it on account of not wanting to embarrass Xia Luo. Besides, he figured a lot of people had trouble switching their diet over to Lan foods; if only he knew how right he was.

Today, Xia Luo passed by the colors and aromas of the market with little reaction, her expression set in a subtle scowl that seemed to deepen by a degree each day. Finally, after passing what he thought were too many stalls without buying anything, Lan Jingyi finally had enough.

“Hey, Xia Luo! Yeah, you!” he said, waving his hand in front of her face. “Where are you today? You’ve been weird since yesterday. You haven’t even stopped to get anything to eat yet!” Lan Jingyi gestured broadly around him at the bountiful options on offer. “Come on, you’re probably hungry for something that isn’t green or herbal. Let’s start with,” he said, pausing to scan the section of the street they were on before pointing at a stand, “that one!” With gusto, Lan Jingyi grabbed Xia Luo’s sleeve and dragged her through the shifting crowd to a stand selling various pancakes.

How is he a Lan disciple? He’s so rowdy and loud , thought Xia Luo as she freed her sleeve from Lan Jingyi’s grip and watched him interact with the stall owner.

“Xia Luo,” said Lan Sizhui from her side, “point to what you’d like and I can order for you.”

This had become a common practice between the three; Xia Luo would select from a menu and point to what she wanted so that Lan Sizhui or Lan Jingyi could tell the waiter or cook. Or, if there wasn’t a written menu to point to, she would listen to the list of options and Lan Sizhui would watch for her indication of which she would like. To them, it was normal, but it often made people curious as to whether she was mute or not.

This time, the options were limited so Lan Jingyi took the initiative to order a few pancakes for them to share amongst themselves, “to get the day started,” as he said. The moment Xia Luo took her first bite, it was as though something closed up within her opened, and unlike the previous openings that had left her confused and anxious, this one was good.

Like the first sip of a hot tea on a cold day, the feeling traveled down her midline and spread outward to warm every bit of her. Right then, there was nothing she could think of but food. All thoughts of the broken amulets, the entity, her exposed identity, and her charade as a boy were swept clean off of the altar of her preoccupations. There was only her, that chive pancake, and all the possible delicacies to come.

Mistaking her food trance for a continuation of her previous detachment, Lan Jingyi redoubled his efforts.

“Alright, so the pancakes were just a warm-up!” he said, head on the swivel looking for their next target. “Yeah, this way!” he cried, tugging her along once more, but careful to only grab her by the sleeve.

When was the last time I felt anyone else’s touch? Xia Luo thought, one hand hidden in the sleeve gripped by Lan Jingyi and the other holding onto the wrapper from her pancake.

Jiujiu hugged me on my birthday, and Muqin cut my hair. I think that was the last time. She looked down at Lan Jingyi’s hand as they pulled up in front of the second stand and stared at it. Have I ever really looked at the boys’ hands up close? How different are they from mine? Jiujiu’s were very different from mine, but he was a full grown man. She lifted her arm a bit, bringing Lan Jingyi’s hand along with it, so she could see it more clearly. Just then, Lan Jingyi looked over and noticed her looking at his hand with a curious expression on her face and jerked it away.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have grabbed you!” he blurted, mistaking her curiosity and contemplation for displeasure. “I won’t do it again.” He looked nervous, like he was expecting her to be angry.

Xia Luo blinked, and in the end, all she could say was, “Mn.”

Lan Sizhui caught onto the awkwardness in the air between them and spoke to the stall manager to see what he was selling. He had stuffed steamed buns for sale, and after the Lan boys made their choices, Xia Luo pointed to the ones she wanted so the manager could wrap them up.

When she pointed without a word, the manager frowned and looked at her before looking at the boys. “Is he mute?” he asked them, passing them their buns.

“He swore a vow of silence,” replied Lan Sizhui. Normally, this response would elicit surprise from the person who had asked the question and they would usually question Xia Luo’s youth and the reason behind the vow. But this time, things went a bit differently.

“A vow of silence,” the manager repeated. “Oh, you’re Gusu Lan cultivators! I see the forehead ribbons now,” he said, growing excited. “You look different from these other boys, gongzi,” he said as he regarded Xia Luo.

“Xia Luo is a guest disciple,” said Lan Jingyi around a mouthful of steamed bun.

“Xia Luo? Wait a minute, the name and the vow of silence… why, you’re the late Chifeng-zun’s bastard son!” the manager exclaimed, his excitement getting the better of him. He said it loud enough that the nearby stall owners, vendors, and customers all heard him and turned to look.

Lan Jingyi looked mortified. “Xia Luo,” he said, his voice quiet beside her, “I didn’t mean to bring attention to you. I forgot that your name might be —”

He didn’t get to continue before his normally loud voice was drowned out by the curious tittering of the crowd as they turned their attention to Xia Luo.

It hasn’t even been a week since word made it out. How can everyone already know?

Xia Luo was simply too new to the world outside the confines of the Xia estate to understand that news travels like a leaf down a swift river. She had never been concerned with the drama of others, so the concept that others could be so interested in the drama of people far removed from themselves hadn't yet hit her.

“Xia Luo!” someone called from the crowd, “is it true your mother —”

“Young master!” yelled another person, “can you tell us why you’ve remained hidden all these years?”

“Xia Luo!”

“Gongzi!”

“We want to know —”

The voices of the people bled together into one amalgamated mass of practically indiscernible noise. Xia Luo shut her eyes and gritted her teeth, the urge to crouch down and simply cover her ears strong as she tried to find some space to take a breath.

A hand touched her shoulder and she snapped her eyes open. Instead of seeing a wayward townsperson reaching out to touch her, it was Lan Sizhui, his touch gentle and his expression worried. For what might have been the first time, Xia Luo looked him fully in the eyes.

“Let’s go,” he said, without a moment’s hesitation. Not another word was spoken as he cleared a path for them to make their exit, Lan Jingyi taking up guard behind Xia Luo. They pushed their way through the crowd, Xia Luo only one step behind Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi only one step behind her.

Behind them, the shouts and cries of excited and confused people continued, but the disciples were fleet-footed and silent. After only a bit of trouble, they put some distance between themselves and the clamoring crowd.

Xia Luo could hear Lan Jingyi babbling to Lan Sizhui that he really hadn’t meant to expose Xia Luo like that, but she wasn’t even mad at him.

All I wanted was to eat my lunch. Upon thinking this, Xia Luo’s stomach growled and her expression hardened. I finally feel hungry and have the opportunity to eat good food, and then this happens. What are the odds? Ridiculous!

Xia Luo stopped abruptly, causing Lan Jingyi to crash into her back. She pressed her hands over her eyes and let out a loud sigh, then turned around to face the boys. Lan Jingyi swallowed visibly, his mouth already open to continue apologizing. With one puff of air through her nose, Xia Luo strode past the boys and over to the vendors at the end of the street. At least these ones hadn’t heard the commotion, so Xia Luo went unbothered as she chose an assortment of  foods before returning to the boys.

It was obvious the boys thought she had lost her mind. They were silent on the way back up the mountain path and even followed Xia Luo when she took a detour from the path to wander through the woods for a bit before selecting a spot with boulders just right for sitting. There, she sat herself down, placed the bag of food on the ground, opened it, and gestured at the boys that they should sit and join her.

Lan Jingyi was speechless, and Lan Sizhui was unsure if this behavior could be considered normal, but he sat down and took an item from the bag. An incense time later, both he and Lan Jingyi were full after only a few items each, though Xia Luo continued doggedly on until only two steamed buns remained. She had the right mind to save them for after dinner.

“Xia Luo,” said Lan Sizhui. He waited to continue until Xia Luo swallowed her last mouthful of food. When she did and looked up at him, he continued, “I think we should talk about yesterday.”

With a full stomach and steamed buns for later, Xia Luo didn’t feel as short tempered as usual. To say that feeling short tempered was usual for her was in itself unusual, given that she had always had a very high threshold for putting up with things that bothered her.

When did it start? On my birthday, I guess. I did punch that guard even though he didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve never done something like that before.

The boys waited for her to make an indication of whether or not she would engage with them, although they fully expected her to decline. To their surprise, she starting writing in the dirt with a chopstick.

Lan Jingyi leaned in enthusiastically to read what she wrote. “There was something in the woods that made me lose consciousness. I don’t know what it was. I think it was what knocked the woodcutter out.”

“Xia Luo, why didn’t you say so sooner!” he burst, practically leaping from the boulder. “What kind of thing? Did you see it? Did it hit you from behind?”

Xia Luo shook her head, then wrote again.

“It didn’t have a proper form” , read Lan Sizhui. “Xia Luo, you should have said something. You didn’t look right when you came back to the clearing, and now it makes sense why. We should tell Hanguang-jun that there might be something dangerous still left behind there. He’ll probably want to take a look.”

Lan Jingyi wasn’t done scolding Xia Luo. “I can’t believe it! Now there’s some mysterious thing out there and we left it to run wild! We even asked you if something happened, and you said no!”

I shouldn’t have said anything , thought Xia Luo wryly. If it weren’t for the woodcutter who had passed out, I’d think I had imagined the whole thing .

Seeing Xia Luo’s expression, Lan Sizhui stepped in to ease the situation. “It’s clear that the encounter was confusing, so it’s not unreasonable for Xia Luo to not mention it,” he said to Lan Jingyi. “Xia Luo, is there anything else you can tell us about what happened?”

How do I tell you it changes shape, that it takes on the faces of the people in your life? How do I tell you it doesn’t take a hit but can hit you? How do I tell you any of this when I hardly believe it myself and when I still… I still don’t trust you?

Xia Luo looked down and shook her head. It was true; she didn’t trust the boys. She didn’t trust that they could understand her or that they’d even want to. After seeing how her uncle and mother had lied to her and betrayed her, and considering the mystery of the sword at her hip, she just couldn’t extend good faith to anyone. Even though she felt these Lan boys had good intentions, she didn’t trust herself to pass that jugement.

Lan Jingyi made a sound and Lan Sizhui stifled a small sigh, but neither of them pushed the matter. 

“It’s alright if you don’t remember. There is something else I think we should bring up, though,” Lan Sizhui said. “Xia Luo, did you know before coming here that your father was Chifeng-zun?”

Xia Luo balled up the wrapper in her hand and nodded.

“Was it supposed to be a secret?”

Another nod.

“Is that why you got so angry when you realized people had found out?”

Yet another nod.

“Do you know who let the secret out?” asked Lan Jingyi, chancing a question himself.

The boys didn’t miss the grimace that colored Xia Luo’s face. She nodded.

“Could you tell us who it was?” Lan Sizhui asked in almost a whisper.

Once again, the boys didn’t think Xia Luo would answer, but for the second time that day, they were surprised when she angrily drew two characters in the dirt. With a swirl of her robes, she picked up the bag of crumpled wrappers and stalked off to the path, a dark cloud brewing behind her eyes.

Leaning forward to read the word before hurrying after her, Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi exchanged a troubled glance.

In the dirt was the word “Muqin”, the chopstick Xia Luo had used stuck into it halfway up its shaft.

* * * * *

After the boys got that bit of information out of Xia Luo, they wasted no time in relaying it to Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. The former decided to see for themselves if there was anything strange at the village the juniors had been to, and the latter clicked his tongue with an “I knew it” kind of attitude when he heard about the source of the revealed secret. Both of them agreed that Xia Luo needed to open up about her problems, but they disagreed on how that should be done. Where Wei Wuxian argued that Lan Xichen ought to step in as Xia Luo’s martial uncle, Lan Wangji held out that his brother simply wasn’t ready and that it wasn’t their place to push him. He also felt that it wasn’t his own place to inquire into Xia Luo’s personal life, nor was it Wei Wuxian’s to interfere in the natural course of things.

Since they were at an impasse, Wei Wuxian dropped the matter and decided to take it up again after they returned from their trip to where Xia Luo had seen “something”. There was plenty of time to decide how to crack into the kid’s armor.

With Lan Wangji therefore away on business, a different teacher filled in at the lesson the next morning. Lan Sizhui was relieved to see that Xia Luo seemed focused in class and wasn’t so distant during their conversations on class breaks, and she even deigned to listen in on the other groups of disciples talk about their Night Hunt experiences. The guest disciples were usually quite chatty, but they were especially chatty today as they traded stories about both the exciting and boring aspects of their Night Hunts. None of them seemed to have encountered anything too difficult, so everyone’s stories were pretty mild overall.

Contrary to what Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi thought, Xia Luo did not simply return to her usual focused self, however; instead of addressing the problem, she compensated by forcing herself to concentrate on her studies and on meditation all the more to try to straighten herself out. To her, if what she was experiencing couldn’t be attributed to a freak possession or strange poisoning, then it had to be because she wasn’t in control of her emotions. Ever since the night she punched the guard, and all the more since her identity had been leaked, she felt like she had a new, fiery temper to contend with that hadn’t been there before. If anything, Xia Luo had always been a bit passive; because she had trusted her uncle and mother, there hadn’t been much reason to fight against their instruction, and because she was isolated from others, theirs were the only instructions she ever had to abide by. Now, although she took little issue with taking commands from the Lan elders and even Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi, she found herself burdened with a temper that fired up not in the face of orders, but questions.

Of the many things that Xia Luo could do, navigating social interactions and answering questions about herself to people she didn’t know were not among them. Just as she had no experience with navigating interpersonal relationships outside of her immediate family, she also had no experience providing information about herself when others asked. Although some of her proclivity to give only the barest of information in her responses could be chalked up to her reserved nature, the rest could only be attributed to a lack of socialization. On the rare occasions Xia Luo was permitted into town before coming to the Cloud Recesses, she had always been accompanied by either her mother or her uncle. Her mother would answer for her and Xia Gongmin’s rank and position meant that anyone who did stop to question them on the street typically only inquired after the quality of his day before moving along.

So although Xia Luo held that her anger and resentment towards her mother were justified, she still didn't think they were cause enough for such an unpredictable temper after so many years of calm. During the group’s longer break, she kept these thoughts in mind as she held a handstand in the shade of a large tree, the whispers of boys wondering who would choose to do handstands of their own accord brushing past her ears. She ignored them.

When being upside down didn’t help, she tried seated meditation, and when that didn’t help she tried standing. When all of that failed, she applied herself to her sword training in an effort to find clarity. Surely, the harder she tried, the more likely she was to find an answer.

Instead of an answer, her efforts only found her as the center of the boys’ attention. Since everyone knew that she was Nie Mingjue’s bastard son by this point, it meant that every one of her actions and accomplishments – or failures – were drawn up against the man who sired her. She felt greater pressure than before to perform, not just for herself so she could avoid being exposed, but for Nie Mingjue as well to prove that she was worthy of even the base title of bastard .

Hidden in the whispers were the unspoken sentiments held towards all bastards, and Xia Luo became increasingly sensitive to their barbs. What was just a prick before became a jab, and the fact that she wasn’t meant to hear them made it even worse.

Hypocrites. They not only talk behind my back, but they do it poorly. At least have the decency of being discreet.

She may have thought this, but she also knew that she would be irritated if they said such things to her face as well. Given the options, she wished they would stop making assumptions altogether.

She took to venting her frustrations at sword lessons where she could channel her emotions into physical movements to help dissipate them from her body. Given that the other boys also had energy to expend, she didn’t look too out of place. If anything, her concentration and controlled ferocity earned her the whispered praise and appraisal of the boys who knew nothing more of her father than she did but felt they were in a place to make commentary. She did her best to ignore them, but her nerves were certainly rankled.

The day of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian’s return, Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi sat down across from Xia Luo to fill her in on their findings.

“You might have actually seen something on the Night Hunt, Xia Luo,” said Lan Sizhui that afternoon. The group had settled in the library to work on their homework and to help Lan Jingyi study for the upcoming exam. There were some other disciples scattered about doing their own work, and save for the very gentle hum of whispers, the library was silent.

“Yeah, Hanguang-jun and Wei-qianbei went to check it out to make sure everything was alright, and they got a report of a death in the village,” said Lan Jingyi.

Xia Luo put down her brush to give them her full attention.

“The villagers found the body in the morning,” said Lan Sizhui, his voice only just carrying over the desk they were seated around. “It looks like the person was killed during the night after we left that day.”

“Wei-qianbei said the death was strange, though, because although the person had their throat slit open, there was no sign around the body of a struggle,” said Lan Jingyi, his face a mixture of excitement and horror. “It looked like it had been done by a set of claws, but there were no marks on the ground!”

Xia Luo furrowed her brows and glanced at Lan Sizhui.

“That’s right,” he confirmed, nodding at Xia Luo. “There were no other indications besides the wounds on the body to show that something had attacked them.”

Something that could hit a person but leave no mark on the environment, thought Xia Luo. Images of shadowy faces and the phantom sensation of being slammed into a boulder flashed through her mind and body. So it was real. If so, then that means…

The color left Xia Luo’s face. Lan Sizhui reached out to touch her sleeve as a comforting gesture, but Xia Luo had shifted at just that moment; instead of her sleeve, his eyes widened at the sensation of the warmth of her hand under his.

Lan Jingyi stared at their hands, his thoughts clearly going in the direction of “he’s going to kill Sizhui”.

A jolt of longing, shame, desire, and guilt shot from the base of Xia Luo’s spine to the top of her head. So that’s what a boy’s hand feels like. His hand is gentle.

In the same moment that Lan Sizhui retracted his hand from hers, Xia Luo picked up her brush and began writing in order to keep him from starting up apologies. With all the composure she could muster, Xia Luo wrote the characters as neatly as she would any other time, but inside was a voice berating her for being so weak.

What right do I have to desire anything? I have no right to want to feel touch from someone else, not after what Muqin did. If they knew, they’d never dare to touch my sleeve again, let alone my hand.

On the outside, Xia Luo’s expression stayed unreadable, and before Lan Sizhui could make an apology, Xia Luo slid the paper over to him.

Lan Sizhui glanced between her and the paper before deciding to let it go. He looked down and read.

“Could it be a ghost?” he read aloud. “Mn, I don’t think so. Hanguang-jun and Wei-qianbei said that they didn’t pick up on anything distinct, though, so it’s hard to say. Wei-qianbei did say that he felt some residual resentment, but there are a lot of things that could leave behind a trace of that.”

Through the windows came the sound of grasshoppers, their chirrups sprinkling the silence that had descended over the trio’s desk with gentle sounds.

After a few moments like this, Lan Sizhui spoke up, an apology in his voice but kept from his words. “Xia Luo,” he said, “I wanted to say that it’s not your fault that villager died. We don’t know if what you encountered was the same as what killed him. Even if it was, with so little to go off of after the fact, I doubt we could have done anything to prevent his death.”

Lan Jingyi nodded. With both of them trying to be sympathetic of how they thought she must be feeling, Xia Luo nodded her thanks and got back to work. For the rest of their study session, it wasn’t the grasshoppers that Xia Luo heard, but the constant, methodical reminder that she held every possibility of becoming like her mother.

If desire for power or status had driven her mother to do what she did, then Xia Luo would stamp out her own desire at its root, even if that desire was to feel the warmth from another human being’s hand.

* * * * *

Xia Luo couldn’t have known it, but the bushes and trees in the Cloud Recesses had eyes, and they were trained on her. Hidden from view, Wei Wuxian kept watch over her during sword lessons, not only to gather his own observations about her, but to see if Lan Xichen would make an appearance. If Lan Xichen were to seek out his martial nephew, Wei Wuxian wanted to know about it, especially if he decided to approach Xia Luo.

For the days after Xia Luo and the others had returned from their Night Hunt, Wei Wuxian had set himself up not too far from where he figured Lan Xichen would come to watch. He would arrive half an incense time before the first of the disciples could be expected to show up and then watch them all gambol about like bunnies before the instructor arrived. Given that it was usually the trio that arrived first, he got to watch them interact as they normally would when there was no one else with them.

They were charming to watch. Seeing the way Lan Jingyi strove to keep up with the other two and the way Lan Sizhui confidently made corrections reminded Wei Wuxian of his own youth at the Cloud Recesses. Years ago, it had been him, Jiang Cheng, and Nie Huaisang running around as guest disciples, teasing Lan Wangji and going on Night Hunts. Watching these kids now, he couldn’t help but sigh at the memories and at how life had gotten so twisted up along the way. Hearing Lan Jingyi declare that it wasn’t fair that Xia Luo had such a heavy sword and could therefore hit harder, Wei Wuxian sighed again, this time out of happiness at how much simpler these kids’ lives should be compared to those of the generation before them.

Although Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui had been involved in some of the final events in the Yiling Patriarch saga, they had had very little to lose besides their own lives in a few situations. Wei Wuxian hoped it would stay that way; he very much hoped that the biggest concerns they would have would be over a difficult Night Hunt or falling in love. Wei Wuxian smiled to himself.

In the clearing below, Xia Luo was practicing some saber techniques that the boys were unfamiliar with and was stopped by Lan Sizhui every now and then to break down the move for them so they could try it themselves.

“He seems like a calm kid, if not quite serious,” Wei Wuxian said to himself. “I really wasn’t wrong about how similar he seems to be to Lan Zhan.” He laughed at the thought.

It became apparent to Wei Wuxian the more he watched that Xia Luo made for a decent teacher in saber techniques. She was good at slowing down movements and was methodical about demonstrating transitions; it didn’t seem that being mute made much of a difference in her ability to convey the lesson. To prove this, Lan Sizhui imitated her movements and received a nod of approval, although Xia Luo did raise the tip of Lan Sizhui’s sword with her own to correct his final stance.

“Huh, they all seem to get along pretty well. I wonder when I’ll see some of that anger and frustration Jingyi mentioned,” he mused.

Finally, the other disciples made their way into the clearing, their voices filling the air with the buzz of young energy waiting to be released. It was then that Wei Wuxian happened to glance down and was caught off guard by what he saw.

Beneath the very tree that he was seated in was the tall, thin form of none other than Lan Xichen.

No way, he actually came! Wei Wuxian thought. I’ll really have to stay silent now, if he doesn’t already know that I’m here.

If Lan Xichen was aware of Wei Wuxian’s presence, he made no sign. Instead, he stood as still as a pine and watched the disciples take their places as the instructor entered the clearing. Wei Wuxian tried to trace his line of sight, but he couldn’t say with certainty that the clan leader was watching his martial nephew at that moment or simply taking in the scene as a whole. It had been quite some time since he had been anywhere besides the Cold Room or a Lan banquet, so there was certainly plenty for him to look at.

* * * * *

The calm air that Xia Luo had around Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi rippled when the other boys joined them in the clearing. Since coming back from the Night Hunt, the feeling of openness and freedom she had felt before the strange entity arrived in the woods haunted her whenever she was surrounded by a crowd.

Because the boys were all testing each other to see who would rank in that year’s top ten young masters, there was inevitably the push of competition behind all of their words and actions. No matter how friendly the different clans’ juniors were, there was no mistaking their ambitious desire to be recognized as among the best. It was this competitive air that made some of the disciples more daring than they might have otherwise been.

Behind her, a disciple from the Yingchuan Wang clan approached, bolstered by the silent encouragements of his companions.

“Hey, Xia Luo,” he called, his long face standing in contrast to his otherwise stocky figure.

With brows furrowed at the unexpected interruption, Xia Luo turned around to face him. Lan Jingyi, who had been in the middle of receiving a correction from her, lowered his sword to watch. Lan Sizhui raised an eyebrow at the disciple, a kindly smile on his lips.

The boy, whose name Xia Luo did not remember, tipped his chin up at her. “My buddies and I were wondering if it’s really true,” he said. “I mean, people say you look like Chifeng-zun, but how can anyone be sure you’re his son? It’s not like Chifeng-zun to sleep around and have a bastard, after all.”

All of the disciples in the clearing had stopped what they were doing to watch the interaction. Most of them were shocked by this disciple’s rudeness, but many also looked curious. No one had approached Xia Luo personally since the news broke, so they were no doubt beyond interested to see what she would do.

The corner of Xia Luo’s mouth twitched.

Emboldened, the boy continued. “I got a letter from my father saying that it’s all a lie, that your mother is just looking for attention. Since Nie Huaisang doesn’t have an heir, it also makes sense to try to put you up as one.”

Lan Jingyi opened his mouth in protest, but Lan Sizhui stepped forward before he could say anything.

“Wang Baiju,” he said. The smile was gone from his lips, and his expression had turned serious. “There’s no need to indulge such nasty rumors, nor is there any justification in speaking so rudely.”

“Lan Sizhui,” said Wang Baiju, “don’t you ever find it odd how things all seemed to line up for Xia Luo? First he shows up here, a nameless face, then he’s outed as Chifeng-zun’s bastard. Why is he here, anyway?”

“Everyone has the right to come to the Cloud Recesses to train with us!” proclaimed Lan Jingyi, his face red with indignation.

“No, they don’t!” piped someone from behind Wang Baiju. “Only those with ties to big names can be a guest disciple here.”

There was truth to what he said, and the implication in his words made Xia Luo tighten her grip around Yongyao. It was very possible that Xia Shunchao had fabricated this timeline of events, even if Nie Mingjue was truthfully her father.

“Do you really think Xia Luo’s family would concoct a plan like that just to get him a spot to train here?” asked Lan Jingyi, astonished. “Don’t you realize the trouble that would come from that if Xia Luo wasn’t actually Chifeng-zun’s son?”

Wang Baiju shrugged. “My father says that Xia Gongmin was Chifeng-zun’s closest advisor. Who’s to say he doesn’t have enough sway to guarantee it all worked out?”

Lan Sizhui shook his head. “That’s ridiculous. Xia Gongmin is an honorable man who served Chifeng-zun to the last. Besides, the Chief Cultivator himself has acknowledged the news.”

In the trees, Wei Wuxian’s eyebrows were arched high. He had almost forgotten how vicious teenage boys could be. He glanced down at Lan Xichen, but the clan leader hadn’t moved an inch since he had arrived.

Xia Luo couldn’t even manage a wry smile; the irony of the situation was not lost on her. Had she not, just earlier that day, fumed at how she found the boys’ whispered comments cowardly? Hadn’t she almost hoped they would dare to say something to her face?

Now that the moment had finally come, what could she actually do?

Another boy from Wang Baiju’s group chimed in, “It’s pretty convenient he’s silent, too! After all, he doesn’t really have to directly answer anything. He can just pretend to be all stoic and aloof, like he’s above it all.”

Lan Sizhui frowned. “Xia Luo doesn’t owe anyone an explanation for his vow of silence. It’s not right for anyone to question it, either.”

The other Lan disciples looked uncomfortable; confrontation of this sort was not something they were supposed to engage in, and they weren’t quite sure about how to stop it. Instead of stepping in, they hoped that Lan Sizhui could diffuse the situation quickly.

Beside him, Xia Luo’s eyes darkened. Hidden behind her bangs, the boys who believed her to be a fraud missed this change and took her silence as something of an admission of guilt.

Like the whisper of a breeze through the fronds of a golden larch, a glimmer of resentment blew into Xia Luo’s heart. It came in so gently that it went unnoticed by Xia Luo until it began to circle and grow.

Whatever else the disciples said about her went around her like water around a stone as she tried to block out their words. With only the formless sound of their voices reaching her, she  moved abruptly, Yongyao grasped firmly in her hand.

The disciples all started. The sudden motion scared them, because no matter what anyone said, they were all somewhat nervous of what someone like Xia Luo might do if properly angered.

Yongyao slid soundlessly into its sheath. It only took one brief glance at Wang Baiju for Xia Luo to recognize his fear.

Although no words escaped her lips, a huff of derision created an almost palpable barrier between her and the others.

Thankfully, that was when the teacher arrived. He surveyed the disciples and took in the tense atmosphere, but when the disciples all scurried into place like they did every other day, he said nothing and began the lesson.

From his perch in the tree, Wei Wuxian let out the breath he’d been holding. Whew, for a second there I thought they might actually come to blows! That kid really does have self restraint, though. I sure wouldn’t be able to keep silent and do nothing if that stuff was said about me. Thinking about it a bit more, Wei Wuxian made a face as he realized that he hadn’t been able to keep his mouth shut when he was in situations like that. I’ll have to tell Lan Zhan about the inner fortitude of this kid!

Back in the clearing, Lan Sizhui tried to whisper something to Xia Luo, but she wasn’t having it. She didn’t want to be around anyone right then.

Although she did her best to vent her feelings during the warm-ups so she could better focus during the lesson, that glimmer of resentment had continued to grow until it was slowly bubbling in her heart. Despite the almost aggressive way she controlled her breathing and employed every tactic she had to keep a cool head, she couldn’t tamp down the rising heat.

By the time the teacher had paired the disciples off to practice the new technique they had been learning on each other, Xia Luo was burning. She blinked to clear the heat from behind her eyes, but it was to no avail.

What is going on? It’s just some baseless comments! They don’t know anything, so why am I so angry? Why do I feel so hateful?

The gentle whisper from before had grown into a rush of wind that whipped by her ears. She shook her head and leveled Yongyao at the Lan disciple she was paired with, ready to let him take his turn at practicing the new move.

Then, the wind dropped and everything went silent. The resentment surged in her heart and roared forward, taking her body with it. Like a tiger prepared to kill, she met the disciple with Yongyao poised to do the unthinkable.

Chapter Text

The ringing clang of steel meeting steel reverberated through the Cloud Recesses before silence descended in the training grounds. With the silence came a perceptible drop in temperature as if a cold wind had blown through.

From where he had been knocked to the ground, the Lan disciple who had stood opposite Xia Luo stared at the back of the tall figure blocking him, his eyes wide in disbelief. The faces of every disciple in the clearing wore a look of astonishment, horror, or shock.

From his perch in the tree, Wei Wuxian jumped to his feet and made a small sound of surprise.

Xia Luo’s vision gradually cleared, though her body remained rigid. Her heart pounded, its angry thumps reverberating through her body and distorting even the silence she heard in the clearing. Like ice thawing, blood slowly flushed from her head to the rest of her body, and it was only then that she sensed the pressure exerting itself against her blade. Pressed hilt to hilt, her hands around Yongyao looked small in comparison to the hands around the other sword’s hilt. Her brow twitched in confusion.

Isn’t the Lan disciple the same size as me?

Those hands were white-knuckled around the sword hilt, the fingers long and slender. Blue veins showed through the pale skin, which Xia Luo traced with her eyes to the sword-bearer’s wrist before wide sleeves cut off the trail.

A feeling of cold nipped at Xia Luo’s fingers and brought her attention back to the blade Yongyao was pushing against. Yongyao’s own bronze light scraped at the blue sword glare like a rasp against ice.

A minor change in the pressure against Yongyao helped spur Xia Luo’s mind into a bit of clarity, and with the cold from the other blade seeping into her hands came a sense of rising dread. Her pounding heart was now in her throat as she looked up to take in the face of the man staying her blade.

Silver guan glinting in the summer sun, Lan Xichen stared down his nose at her. Around him, the air seemed to glitter with the frost of his expression as he poured judgment down on her. The sword in his hands, Shuoyue, might as well have been a scythe for how much Lan Xichen looked like the Ghost of Impermanence to Xia Luo.

What felt like minutes to Xia Luo had happened in the span of mere moments.

Ice shot up her spine as her head cleared. Stumbling back two steps, Xia Luo lowered Yongyao before dropping it to the ground in front of her, her hands shaking and her eyes round as dinner plates. Shock and incredulity poured from her like a river emptying into the ocean.

How could this happen? There’s no way I was about to… no, I would never attack a disciple…

Xia Luo’s legs buckled beneath her, the weight of the stormy stare pressing her down into the dirt. Ashen-faced, Xia Luo prostrated herself before the Lan Clan leader and silently offered up her soul to his blade.

* * * * *

In the Cold Room, Lan Xichen sat across from Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. One was pinching the bridge of his nose, another sat in silent surprise, and the last looked anxiously between the other two.

“Wangji,” said Lan Xichen after a while, “help me understand this child. You have been Xia Luo’s teacher for a few months now and you have had only good things to say about him as a student. If anything,” he said, turning to Wei Wuxian, “you have even said that he could stand to come out of his shell and engage more with the other disciples.”

Wei Wuxian looked to Lan Wangji, then spoke up. “Zewu-jun, that’s right. Until today, Xia Luo has been tempered and reserved. Sizhui and Jingyi have mentioned that he seems angry underneath, but he’s never acted out against anyone or anything.”

“Xiongzhang,” said Lan Wangji. “None of the teachers have reported bad behavior.”

“Yeah, if anything, Xia Luo follows the rules better than a lot of the Lan disciples!” said Wei Wuxian.

Lan Xichen let out a long sigh.

“Zewu-jun, given Xia Luo’s record, this incident really is like a bolt of lightning on a sunny day,” said Wei Wuxian. “What I want to know is what caused it.”

“That is the question, isn’t it? You were there,” Lan Xichen said, looking back at Wei Wuxian. “What did you notice?”

“Ah,” laughed Wei Wuxian, rubbing the back of his neck, “so you did see me there.” Lan Xichen only gazed at him.

“Mm, right,” he said. “Well, the other boys seemed like they were picking a fight with him over his relation to Chifeng-zun, but he walked away from it and ignored them. Anyone would be angry after something like that, but I’d say he handled it exceptionally well. After that, he was paired with a Lan disciple that wasn’t part of the group that had started trouble before the lesson, so there was no reason for Xia Luo to lash out at him. From what I could see and from my own interpretation, it was like he wasn’t in control of himself in that moment. But,” continued Wei Wuxian, leaning on the table’s edge, “that doesn’t fit with our observations of Xia Luo over these past months. It doesn’t make sense that he would lose control and attack an innocent disciple.”

Lan Wangji gave a subtle nod. “He has an even temper.”

“Apparently not,” remarked Lan Xichen, gesturing at the both of them. “Wangji, had I not stepped in, our Lan disciple would have been speared right through. The move Xia Luo used was not a friendly sparring move used a bit too aggressively, but a fierce saber technique used as a killing blow.”

Wei Wuxian blinked in mild surprise. He thought for a minute before speaking. “I’m not familiar with saber techniques, but there is one thing that I find interesting about this whole thing.”

The two Lans waited for him to continue.

“I’m sure you felt the killing intent coming off of his sword, Zewu-jun,” he said, “but did you notice how quickly it appeared and then how quickly it dissipated? Normally, there is a build-up that leads to a peak, and then there is a fade that occurs before that killing intent is gone. It can be a slow peak or a fast one, but I don’t think it’s ever really as quickly there and then gone as it was for Xia Luo today.”

“What are you saying?” asked Lan Xichen.

“What I’m saying,” said Wei Wuxian, his eyes sparkling, “is that there’s something affecting Xia Luo’s spiritual energy and causing these flares.”

“Flares?” asked Lan Wangji. “This was the first.”

“Exactly!” said Wei Wuxian. “We can be sure that this is the first, but that there will be others to come.”

“You sound excited by this,” said Lan Xichen, his tone heavy with exasperation.

Wei Wuxian tapped his finger on the table, then rested on his lips. “Lan Zhan, what was it that Jingyi said he noticed in Xia Luo the day the news was leaked? Not anger, but –”

“Resentment,” said Lan Wangji.

“Resentment!” parroted Wei Wuxian with a snap of his fingers. “There’s more to this kid’s story than a bastard’s origin. There’s something more that seems to be like a seed that his negative feelings grow from.”

“Wei Ying, this is only a theory,” said Lan Wangji.

Lan Xichen had his eyes closed, but he opened them then. “You came to convince me to leave seclusion to take Xia Luo on as a disciple during his time at the Cloud Recesses.”

Lan Wangji turned his gaze on Wei Wuxian, but his husband did not meet his eyes.

“You said he needed guidance,” Lan Xichen continued, “because he could be susceptible to qi deviation in the future given his Nie bloodline. Is this part of your theory?”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes gleamed.

* * * * *

Sweat dripped around Xia Luo’s hands, rolling and beading off her nose, chin, and forehead. In front of the Wall of Discipline, Xia Luo’s silhouette looked small and insignificant. A Lan elder stood in the shade to keep watch over her while she underwent the first part of her punishment. Lan Xichen had taken Hanguang-jun with him to determine what would happen with her after that.

Holding this handstand now, Xia Luo was simply stunned that she was still alive. Since killing was prohibited in the Cloud Recesses, she was certain she would be put to death before the Wall of Discipline so her soul would forever remember its sins. But she hadn’t been put to death yet, so she went on maintaining the best form she could given what a mess her mind was in.

What is wrong with me? It’s like I blacked out, because I can’t remember Zewu-jun appearing. I can’t even remember moving forward with Yongyao. The last thing I remember was preparing to let the Lan disciple practice the new set on me. How did it go so wrong?

These thoughts kept swimming through her head, but no matter how many times she asked these questions she never got an answer. Without an answer, Xia Luo began to doubt herself all the more.

Am I really this kind of person? I feel like I don’t even know myself .

For a child raised in seclusion from the outside world, it was no wonder Xia Luo felt lost. It would have been easy for Xia Luo to say that she knew herself while she was still at the Xia residence because she had never had to question her sense of self. All that she was had been built up by her mother and uncle. She had felt secure because so long as she did as she was told, she had nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t that Xia Luo didn’t have opinions before coming to the Recesses, but the opinions she had were of little consequence. They were over trivial things that said very little about who she was as a person. She might have had tastes and preferences, but what could be said about her beliefs and boundaries? If those sorts of things had never been properly tested, then how could she say she knew what they were, and furthermore, how could she say she knew herself?

Like the sweat puddling around her hands, the things that Xia Luo thought she knew about herself fell away and splattered to nothing. Just as the blood pooled in her head from being upside down, so did the feeling that she was nothing more than unmolded clay fill her heart.

Inescapable dread swelled in Xia Luo’s chest. The thought that she was little more than a handful of half-formed ideas made her breathing grow heavy.

I don’t know myself at all.

Just as the wave of mounting panic was about to crest and swallow her whole, the cool, calm voice of Hanguang-jun reached her. What had risen as hot, untempered panic congealed into thick, viscous dread.

“Xia Luo,” he said. “Come with me.”

* * * * *

Lan elders lined the hall, each one kneeling behind a table like they were attending a lecture. They all looked solemn and severe with their hands placed flat on their thighs in the straight-backed sitting posture of the Lan Clan. No one spoke.

In the center of the hall knelt Xia Luo, her own hands pressed against her thighs in an effort to keep them from shaking or from gripping at her robes. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead and under the plain white ribbon fastened there. It was all she could do to keep her lip from quivering under the sharp gazes of the ghost-like elders all staring at her.

It had been some time since the incident. Xia Luo had held her handstand while Lan Xichen had discussed matters with Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, and then while he conferred with Lan Qiren. Only when they had reached a decision had they summoned Xia Luo here, and so the sweat from her exertion had hardly stopped before the sweat of anxiety took over.

From the highest seat, Lan Xichen looked down at his martial nephew and sighed. No matter how tall the boy was, he was still just a boy, and an inexperienced one at that. Lan Xichen had no idea what Xia Luo’s life had been like growing up, but he understood that he now had to take part in shaping Xia Luo so she wouldn’t self-destruct in the future.

Da-ge, if only you were here , he thought. Your son needs you.

Now wasn’t the time to mourn things long since passed.

“Xia Luo, you were summoned here to receive punishment for your actions today,” he started, his voice neither loud nor quiet. “You attacked a fellow disciple and executed a deadly maneuver that would have resulted in serious injury or death had it not been intercepted.” Lan Xichen paused, the silent anxiety glazing Xia Luo’s face making him recall Wei Wuxian’s words.

“He needs guidance. You need to find out what’s causing this spiritual imbalance.”

“After much discussion,” he continued, “it has been agreed that you will not be expelled from the Cloud Recesses. However, you will conduct kitchen duties for a month. You will not be permitted to spar with other disciples until deemed fit to do so. You will not attend Night Hunts for one month. And finally,” said Lan Xichen, his voice maintaining its firmness, “you will attend daily lessons with me as your mentor.”

Xia Luo had already been in disbelief when kitchen duties had been announced instead of the execution she was certain awaited her, but she was absolutely certain she had misheard as silence followed Lan Xichen’s final words.

“Am I understood?” he said.

Lan Qiren tipped his chin up ever so slightly and waited for her answer.

With eyes round as saucers, Xia Luo looked up and nodded her head. It was clear from her expression that she had anticipated far worse than she had received, and in a way, this pleased Lan Qiren.

With a nod of approval, Lan Xichen provided some final instructions. “You will report to the Cold Room after your final lesson each day for your sessions with me. That is all. You may go,” he concluded.

With that, Xia Luo rose to her feet, clasped her hands before her, and bowed low to Lan Xichen and the elders. Then, before they could change their minds, she walked out of the hall and into the early evening air.

Clouds as thin as spun sugar scudded across the faintly purpling sky. Xia Luo exhaled and imagined her breath billowing up to create a cloud of its own, heavy and laden with her worries. If she sent the cloud up, she thought it would surely condense into rain and send her worries back down onto her head. There was no way to escape them, it seemed.

How was she supposed to face the other disciples after what had happened? How would Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi react to her outburst? It was unlikely they would still want to associate with her.

All of her careful crafting of the image of a perfect disciple had turned to sand in her hands, each individual effort a singular grain that slipped through her fingers. Now, no matter how well she managed her temper, the attention would be on her. She had to work even harder now to keep suspicions off of her.

Not that they would ever expect a girl to have such a temper , she thought. If the stories about Chifeng-zun are true, then it makes sense his son would be irascible like him, but not a daughter. Girls don’t behave like this.

The scowl that Xia Luo had worked so hard to keep from contorting her face finally broke through and pinched her brows together. Anger at the situation welled up and further twisted her expression.

Of everything that could have happened, it was Zewu-jun’s sudden appearance that shook her the most. Had he been watching her, and if so, for how long? Why was he at that day’s lesson? If it was just a coincidence, then Xia Luo had to be as thankful for it as she was utterly abashed. Had he not been there to intervene, it was very likely that Xia Luo’s blade would have met its target and brought about a very early end to her story.

Xia Luo was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn’t notice Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi rushing out to meet her as she passed by the Lan disciples’ dormitory.

“Xia Luo!” called Lan Jingyi, his voice high with anxiety and excitement. “Xia Luo, wait!”

“Xia Luo, how did it go?” asked Lan Sizhui as he came up by her side. “What did they say?”

Shock flashed across Xia Luo’s face but was quickly replaced by a scowl, although this time it was colored by shame.

“Are they sending you home?” asked Lan Jingyi. “I sure hope not! It’s obvious that something is affecting you and making you unstable. It would be wrong to send you home now without an explanation of what’s going on.”

Lan Sizhui nodded, though he was more reserved than his companion. “It’s good that Zewu-jun arrived when he did. I’m sure he was fair in deciding the punishment.”

Xia Luo stared hard at the ground.

“Oh no, they are sending you home,” lamented Lan Jingyi. Xia Luo was surprised to hear regret in his voice.

“Come on, we’ll go back to your room so you can write out what they said,” said Lan Sizhui. Before she could protest at all, the pair was already herding her towards the guest disciples’ dormitory.

In the room, the Lan boys read over what Xia Luo had written out for them. Xia Luo sat on the floor with her arms crossed while she waited.

“Kitchen duty for a month!” exclaimed Lan Jingyi. “No way! You’ll be up so early to prepare breakfast. That’s awful!”

“I suppose it makes sense you can’t spar with anyone for now.” Lan Sizhui mused over this before continuing. “It’s a shame you won’t be able to join us on Night Hunts for a month, but there will be plenty of time later. Besides, things have been quiet lately, so any Night Hunts we do get assigned should be simple, routine matters. You won’t be missing much.”

Lan Jingyi was still hung up on her assignment to kitchen duties. “Does that mean you have to prepare lunch as well? Surely not, since you’ll be in class. It’s probably just for breakfast and then cleaning up after dinner.”

It was the final point on the parchment that made Lan Jingyi change course in his laments on her behalf. “Private lessons with Zewu-jun?” he said, disbelieving. “Zewu-jun has been in seclusion for months now. The only people he really sees are Lan Qiren, Hanguang-jun, and Wei-qianbei.”

Lan Sizhui was just as astonished. “Zewu-jun is taking you on as his disciple? He’s never taken  a disciple before. I never imagined that if he did it would be someone from outside the Lan Clan.”

“It’s punishment,” wrote Xia Luo, “nothing more.”

“That may be so, but it’s still an incredible opportunity. Xia Luo, he is your martial uncle, after all.” Lan Sizhui stared meaningfully at Xia Luo. “He and your father were sworn brothers, so it’s no wonder he’s stepping in to look after you now.”

Xia Luo scoffed, then wrote on the paper. “ ”What a disappointment it must be to him.”

Lan Jingyi puffed his chest out when he read her comment. “Don’t say that! Alright, so one bad thing happened. That doesn’t make you a disappointment, it just means there’s something you need to work on! And as your martial uncle, it’s his responsibility to help you.”

“It’s true,” affirmed Lan Sizhui. “He might not have known he had a martial nephew before, but that doesn’t change the reality now that he does know.”

Complicated feelings roiled inside of Xia Luo. Although she understood the ties between martial relations, she didn’t feel any better about burdening Lan Xichen with her presence or her problems. Besides, she wasn’t over the humiliation and shame of how their first interaction went. As far as first impressions were concerned, she had fumbled in the worst way. Not only that, but now Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi were trying to stand by her and justify her right to be Lan Xichen’s disciple. It would have been easier for her if they decided they didn’t want to deal with her issues anymore.

Before Xia Luo had the chance to pick up her brush to write a response, Lan Jingyi had launched himself at her. Utterly shocked, Xia Luo froze. Lan Jingyi gripped her shoulders with both hands and looked her full in the face, his expression more serious than she had seen it even during their tutoring sessions when he was concentrating his hardest.

“Xia Luo, I’ve seen this look before on Jin Ling, and I’m telling you now that it’s not going to work,” he said. “You don’t think we should be your friends, but I’m telling you you’re wrong. You can stay closed up if you want, but we’re not going to leave you alone, so you should just forget that idea now!”

Lan Sizhui nodded from behind him. “That’s right. We won’t let you navigate this alone. Maybe you’re used to doing things on your own, but now you have people you can rely on to help you.”

Under Lan Jingyi’s stern gaze and with Lan Sizhui maintaining a firm expression behind him, Xia Luo realized she was cornered. Even if she wanted to shake these guys, they wouldn’t be so easy to push away.

She sighed. If they wanted to stick around her, then that was their choice. With all of her extra duties, she wouldn’t have much time to spend in their company anyway, so perhaps the distance would naturally lessen whatever connection they felt they had to her.

* * * * *

The sun shone from high overhead, casting dark blue shadows directly underneath the overhang to the Cold Room’s entrance. A gentle breeze played through the open windows so that the curtains inside could be seen swaying ever so slightly from the outside.

Xia Luo’s mood was as heavy as the heat that day. Although morning kitchen duties hadn’t been too bad, the stress of anticipation for this private meeting had worn her down and made her feel lethargic and miserable. Now that the moment was finally here, she could hardly get her feet to carry her up the few steps to the main door.

Come on, just walk. They didn’t put you to death or send you home, so just walk. Walk up there and knock.

There was no need for Xia Luo to knock. Before her foot cleared the first step the doors opened and Lan Xichen stepped out to greet her.

Xia Luo withdrew her foot and bowed low to him.

In contrast to the stern tone she had expected, Lan Xichen’s voice was gentle if not tired, yet carried with it the slightest hint of something Xia Luo couldn’t quite identify.

Interest? Curiosity? Expectation, maybe?

Lan Xichen led her into the main sitting area of the Cold Room and gestured to a table. He sat himself behind it, reordered a few items, then looked at Xia Luo who had sat and pressed her hands against her thighs.

“I think we ought to first introduce ourselves properly, seeing as we haven’t truly met,” he said. “It would appear that fate has brought us together, or perhaps it was something else.” There was no implication hidden in his tone, but the words were enough to make Xia Luo’s skin crawl.

“I am sure you know that Chifeng-zun and I were sworn brothers,” he continued, his expression ever so slightly mournful. “That would then make me your martial uncle, and you my martial nephew.”

I’m sorry. I don’t even deserve to sit at this table with you.

“For the sake of introductions, I think it best if we put aside yesterday’s events for the moment. There will be time to address that later, but for now, I would like to meet my martial nephew,” said Lan Xichen.

I’m not even a boy. You don’t have a martial nephew. Xia Luo was drowning in self-reproach. She did her best to hide it.

Lan Xichen sighed. Looking down at this youth in front of him brought back so many memories of his first meeting with Nie Mingjue as young teenagers; the resemblance was undeniable. Although he couldn’t see Xia Luo’s eyes clearly through her bangs, he got the impression that if he could he would see the very same scowl that her father had typically worn. Even the way Xia Luo set her jaw and pressed her lips together reminded him of a young Nie Mingjue. He cleared his throat.

“Your entrance into the cultivation world has generated quite a number of rumors around the circumstances of your birth and upbringing,” he said. “I do not indulge in rumors, but I am curious to know about your family. I have met your uncle, Xia Gongmin, but it has been a long time since we last interacted.”

Xia Luo remained quiet.

“I take it he and your mother raised you?” he asked. That same feeling of something tugging at the bottom of his heart from when he first learned that Nie Mingjue had sired a child with someone resurfaced.

Xia Luo nodded.

“Your mother,” he said, “is she a cultivator?” Lan Xichen kept his hands still in his lap.

Xia Luo frowned slightly and shook her head.

A small twinge of relief strummed at Lan Xichen’s heart. So he wasn’t looking for a cultivation partner in someone else. But what, then…

He noticed the dark cloud that passed over Xia Luo’s face and reprimanded himself for the intent behind his questions. It was unfair to ask Xia Luo about her parents’ relationship when she had never even met her father. Besides, it was clear from the contracted terseness of Xia Luo’s body language that she felt trapped and was probably dreading these kinds of familial questions. Just as much as he was struggling to come to terms with having a martial nephew, so too must she be struggling to accept a martial uncle entering her life.

Not to mention, they shared no rapport with one another. In fact, their very first interaction had brought about a punishment. Lan Xichen couldn’t blame Xia Luo for being reserved.

Xia Luo was still tasting the sourness left behind at the mention of her mother and could only do her best to keep the resentment she felt at her own existence from showing on her face.

“Perhaps that will be all for introductions,” said Lan Xichen. He doesn’t owe me an explanation of the circumstances surrounding his birth, he thought.

“Xia Luo,” he began again, changing topics, “your actions the other day were unacceptable. The elders who have interacted with you all expressed how shocked they were to hear what happened, and it is on account of their good opinions of you that you were permitted to remain in the Cloud Recesses. It goes without saying that such behavior will not be tolerated a second time.”

Xia Luo wanted to sink into the floor. If only she could explain that the behavior had shocked her, too. She wanted more than anything to tell Lan Xichen that she wasn’t that sort of person, that she was always well in control of her emotions and that she didn’t have a temper. Had she been the same Xia Luo from before her fifteenth birthday, all of that would have been true. Now, there was nothing she could say.

“You look troubled,” Lan Xichen said, watching Xia Luo, a mess of unreadable thoughts coloring her cheeks.

“You arrived under a vow of silence,” he stated. “No doubt you have received questions regarding it, but I do have to ask: did someone impose it upon you?”

Xia Luo shook her head.

“I see. That is good, then.” Lan Xichen adjusted his sleeves.

To Xia Luo, he looked like a crane. Thin and pale, yet elegant. Under his eyes were faint dark circles, and there was a gray cast to his skin. She pushed aside her misery just enough to contemplate his condition.

I wonder how he looked before he went into seclusion. He and Hanguang-jun are the Twin Jades of Gusu Lan, so he must have been impressive, even more than he is now. He looks sad. He looks sad and… lonely. Both of his sworn brothers are dead.

Disciple and elder regarded one another, the latter openly looking while the former furtively peered through lowered lashes.

Lan Xichen wondered why this youth looked so closed off and sullen and what could have caused it. Although Xia Luo maintained a neutral veneer, it was easy for him to notice the disquiet behind the mask.

He is like Wangji , thought Lan Xichen, recalling something Wei Wuxian had told him. The difference is that I grew up with Wangji and know how to read him; I do not know how to read Xia Luo.

Silence settled over them. It coated the desk, dusted their robes, and lingered in the air between them. Each was preoccupied with their own thoughts, and neither could have guessed what the other was thinking.

Lan Xichen was suddenly overcome by a wave of questions he wanted to ask, like why Nie Mingjue hadn’t told him about the woman he had met, or why he didn’t tell him he had sired a child. He wanted to know when Nie Mingjue had changed his mind about producing an heir and why he hadn’t talked to him about it. The thoughts rose up unbidden, fast and strong.

I thought, he thought to himself. I thought…

It was a few minutes before Lan Xichen broke the silence, uttering only a single word.

“Why?” he asked. 

He was surprised to hear the word leave his lips. Before he could say more, Xia Luo’s mind was pushed onto its downward path.

Why? Why am I here? Why am I a disappointment? she thought.

Lan Xichen watched Xia Luo’s face grow redder as the seconds ticked by so that the rest of what he wanted to say stuck in his throat.

His da-ge was dead, and with him went the answers to his many questions. Xia Luo was not Nie Mingjue and had no way to answer for him.

Why do I drag others down with me? Why do I dredge up old grief? Why am I like this? Xia Luo’s thoughts continued.

No matter how much Xia Luo looked like a young Nie Mingjue, it was unfair for Lan Xichen to put any of his grief over losing him on her.

Why am I still here? she thought, her throat tight and the rims of her eyes turning red.

Lan Xichen looked for the right words to say, but he stopped when Xia Luo hung her head.

“I’m sorry,” she rasped. After months of silence Xia Luo’s voice was weak and hardly made it past her lips. Her fingers curled into fists and she kept her gaze cast downwards.

Lan Xichen stared at her in disbelief, his own mind momentarily blank.

“I’m sorry,” she said again like she was afraid he hadn’t heard her the first time. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Xia Luo,” said Lan Xichen, his voice soft.

Xia Luo swallowed. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking.

This time, Lan Xichen forcefully shut out any thoughts that didn’t have to do with the youth sitting directly across from him.

“Xia Luo,” he said, finding his words. “I only meant to ask you why you attacked that disciple.”

Behind tightly shut eyelids, Xia Luo buried herself in the temporary darkness. If she shut her eyes hard enough, then maybe she would vanish into the dark.

When she opened her eyes, her white Lan robes were still in her field of vision.

All she could do was shake her head in response. There was nothing she could say when she didn’t have any answers herself.

With a gentle sigh, Lan Xichen closed his eyes and acknowledged that there was not going to be an easy way to get to know his martial nephew. However, the closed-off youth in front of him had made the first gesture of opening up, even if it had come in the form of an apology born of ill feelings.

“Let us meditate,” he said.

This time, when silence settled between them, Lan Xichen wasn’t plagued by ceaseless thoughts of Chifeng-zun, but was able to focus instead on sharing the space with Xia Luo.

Outside, the warm evening breeze carried the scent of grass and the sound of crickets. Across the Cloud Recesses, disciples and elders went about their regular activities, each one occupied by the promise of a long day coming to a close.

Chapter Text

Three weeks passed, and with them came the hottest days of the summer. On this particular day, Wei Wuxian was sprawled out flat on the floor in his search for a cool place to relax. Sweat glistened across his bare chest, but even the heat couldn’t keep him from running his mouth and adding to the hot air that hardly moved in the absence of any breeze.

“Eh, Lan Zhan!” he said, his arms pressed against the wooden floor boards of their home. “Lan Zhan!” he called again, a whine in his voice. “Don’t make me look around to see if you’re listening!”

“Mn,” came Lan Wangji’s voice from not too far away.

“Oh, so you are listening! In that case, tell me about your brother and Xia Luo’s lessons,” he said. “I’ll tell you what I heard from Sizhui and Jingyi in exchange.”

“No gossip,” Lan Wangji replied.

“Ah, Lan Zhan! It’s not gossip, it’s news.” Wei Wuxian groaned after saying this and rolled over to move to a new spot on the floor to cool his stomach. He propped his chin on his arm and looked at Lan Wangji who was reading in a chair nearby, cool and collected as always. When he didn’t get a reaction, he took it upon himself to volunteer the information.

“Xia Luo still hasn’t spoken a word to Sizhui or Jingyi,” he said. “It’s been three weeks since he first spoke to Xichen, but he hasn’t said anything to them.”

Lan Wangji frowned and looked up from his book. “Wei Ying, his affairs with Xiongzhang are private.”

“Don’t worry,” said Wei Wuxian, “I haven’t told them that Xia Luo has broken his vow of silence. I’m not looking to meddle.” He rolled over again.

“They told me that the other disciples are still staying far away from Xia Luo. The ones that were friendly with him before — the ones that had arrived with him  — don’t even interact. But you probably notice that when you teach lessons,” he said, his limbs spread out in the shape of a star.

“Mn.”

“Lan Zhan, you have to say more than that! I don’t get to spend time in the classroom to watch them, so you’re my only way to get information!” Wei Wuxian spoke at the ceiling. Lan Wangji could hear a smile creep into his voice. “Unless you’d rather I talk to the juniors about it,” he teased.

Lan Wangji set his book in his lap and looked at the pitiful form of Wei Wuxian on the floor.

“Xiongzhang says that Xia Luo keeps his words to a minimum and does not volunteer much information. Most of their time is spent in meditation,” he said.

“Just meditation?” pondered Wei Wuxian. “Surely they do more than sit there like that. I mean,” he said, rolling over again to look at Lan Wangji, “there is so much for them to discuss! There’s no way they’re both content to keep their conversations to only short phrases.”

“Not everyone feels the need to speak much.”

Wei Wuxian made a face in response. “You don’t really think Xia Luo was this quiet before coming here, do you?”

“He is reserved. It is not out of the realm of possibility.”

“Pfah,” said Wei Wuxian. “I refuse to believe Xia Luo is exactly like you. He has to have said something to show that he has a lot more to say.”

Lan Wangji picked his book up again. “Xiongzhang believes there is something that has caused Xia Luo to feel ashamed and guilty of his existence. These feelings will take time to work through.”

“Ah, Lan Zhan!” exclaimed Wei Wuxian, peeling himself off the floor. “Now there’s something to go off of!” He approached Lan Wangji and peered at the book in his hands.

“This isn’t interesting material. Lan Zhan, pay attention to me instead,” he demanded, plucking the book from Lan Wangji’s hands.

“Here, I’ll give you something better to do while we talk.” He straddled Lan Wangji’s lap and draped his arms around his neck. Lan Wangji felt heat color his ears as Wei Wuxian looked at him with a crooked grin.

“I thought you were overheating.”

“I was, but now you should see just how important it is to me that I learn more about Xia Luo,” Wei Wuxian said. He traced a hand over Lan Wangji’s chest and probed at the edge of the lapel of his robe.

“Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian removed his hand and looked seriously at Lan Wangji. “I can get up, if you’d rather I roll on the floor some more,” he said.

Lan Wangji placed a restraining hand on Wei Wuxian’s waist. This elicited a sly grin from the man on his lap.

“Well then, tell me. What did your brother disclose to you?”

* * * * *

Sweat traced the line of Xia Luo’s spine until it stopped at the point where her belt cinched her robes. Behind her, she could feel Lan Jingyi struggling to sit straight and keep a groan to himself while Lan Sizhui ignored the sweat sliding down his own temples.

It was a sweltering day that grounded the birds outside and left the Orchid Room airless and stifling.

Lan Qiren knelt behind his desk, his expression unreadable despite the plight of the disciples seated before him. Although he wouldn’t admit to it, even he was ignoring the less than perfect posture of the disciples in order to save himself the effort of issuing corrections.

Only the sound of brushes across paper could be heard as the disciples completed their exams.

Xia Luo stood and walked her exam to the front. With the paper held in both hands, she proffered it up to Lan Qiren who took it without sparing her a glance. Xia Luo imperceptibly pressed her lips together and walked back to her seat. A moment later, Lan Sizhui delivered his exam and took his seat as well.

He’s definitely treating me differently.

Ever since Xia Luo had begun her lessons with Lan Xichen she had felt Lan Qiren’s attention trained on her. At first, she had only sensed a change in how much it felt like he kept an eye on her, but as the weeks went by, even that changed into something more bothersome.

By now, Xia Luo was used to being watched or observed.

What bothered her was the distance that Lan Qiren had begun to put between them. Before she had noticed this change, Lan Qiren had indulged her questions and provided detailed answers that went beyond the scope she may have initially intended and offered her extra materials to study on her own. He had seemed pleased to have a student who applied themselves to lessons and homework without complaint and who didn’t see the additional materials as just more work to get through.

These past few weeks, however, had changed that relationship to something lesser than it had been. Lan Qiren no longer guided Xia Luo to additional materials, and his responses to her questions were often curt. Of course he still taught her and would never turn her away, but it was obvious to her that her presence had become irksome to him.

Lan Qiren had often praised her — albeit very reservedly — for her work and stellar performance, but that had all but stopped. When she answered complex questions or provided the class with explanations of a concept he was teaching, he no longer said even a perfunctory “very good”. Instead, he would make a sound of assent much like Hanguang-jun would and that was all.

Xia Luo didn’t need the praise; if it hadn’t been given in the first place she wouldn’t have thought much of it. But because Lan Qiren had established what a normal interaction looked like between them it became very off putting when that state of normalcy changed.

As if to prove his commitment to his new behavior towards her, he didn’t utter a single word when he passed her graded exam back to her. She had earned perfect marks.

In the seat behind her, she heard him say to Lan Sizhui, “Perfect marks. Well done.”

Once class was let out, most of the boys poured from the hall to find a place to pare down their robes and cool off. Like water around a rock, the boys parted around Xia Luo and streamed past her, completely avoiding using the center aisle of the room that accessed her desk.

Did I do something that would make him angry? Maybe he doesn’t like me spending time with Zewu-jun, she thought, but even that didn’t seem right. He agreed to this being part of the punishment.

“Xia Luo, how did you do?” asked Lan Jingyi as he took her exam from her. “What? Perfect marks again! How do you two do it? I even study with you and can’t get perfect marks.”

“There is pride to be found in consistency,” she wrote on a paper that she pulled from her sleeve.

Lan Jingyi took the paper thinking that she had written out some helpful insight, but his expression became indignant when he read the message out loud.

“You’re quoting the scriptures at me!” he exclaimed, his already red face turning redder.

Lan Sizhui chuckled. “Xia Luo, your sense of humor reminds me of Hanguang-jun. You quip back at Jingyi the way he does to Wei-qianbei.”

“Hey, hey, there’s quite a bit of implication in that statement, Sizhui,” said Lan Jingyi, jutting out his lower lip.

“I didn’t mean it any sort of way,” replied Lan Sizhui, smiling. “I just see the similarities in their personalities.”

I’ve heard Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi talk about Hanguang-jun and Wei Wuxian’s relationship a lot. I really don’t know how, if I’m at all like Hanguang-jun, I could ever get with someone so different. Xia Luo looked sideways at Lan Jingyi who was shaking a finger at Lan Sizhui and explaining how he wasn’t right at all. He’s so talkative, loud, and forgetful. I wonder what it was about Wei Wuxian that caught Hanguang-jun’s eye.

Inside the Orchid Room, Lan Qiren furrowed his brow as he cleaned his brush of its red ink. Something had been gnawing at him the last two weeks and he finally knew what it was.

When he had gone to speak with Lan Xichen a week into his lessons with Xia Luo he noticed that Lan Xichen seemed off. Given that he was already in seclusion to give him the space he needed to come to terms with his disordered emotions, this was nothing too unusual. Into the second week, however, Lan Qiren picked up on a sort of unrest that hadn’t been there before, like something new had been added to the mix.

It was like Xia Luo was a crane stepping through the pond that was Lan Xichen; wherever Xia Luo stepped, sediment from the bottom of the pond swirled up and added to Lan Xichen’s troubled state of mind.

Lan Qiren could not abide by this new impediment to his nephew’s recovery. When he looked at Xia Luo, he no longer saw a model disciple but a thorny weed that had found its way into his life.

Whatever Lan Xichen’s feelings had been for this boy’s father, the fact of the matter was that he didn’t owe Xia Luo anything.

With these thoughts circulating through his mind, Lan Qiren reminded himself that the punishment would last only one month. After that time, Lan Xichen would be free of his commitment to Xia Luo and could focus on his recovery once more.

He glanced up at the sound of Lan Jingyi’s voice coming from farther away than he should have been able to hear it. Seeing Xia Luo with him and Lan Sizhui creased his already furrowed brow further.

* * * * *

Papers and scrolls lay spread over the large desk, sunlight cutting only a narrow line across them through the slight crack between the drapes. Within the thick stone walls of the Unclean Realm, the air still held the slightest hint of coolness.

Since Xia Gongmin had come to visit, Nie Huaisang’s thoughts had been occupied with questions about his niece. Although he maintained to anyone who inquired that he was looking forward to the day when he would meet the youth, he couldn’t get past the feelings of apprehension he held.

Not only had Nie Mingjue’s bastard resurfaced, but she had done so at an inopportune time.

Ever since the death of Jin Guangyao, Nie Huaisang had been dealing with establishing himself as the new Chief Cultivator. Unfortunately, not much time had passed since the events at the Guanyin temple, which meant that Xia Luo’s appearance was causing some issues just as he was situating himself in his new position.

First, there was the issue of addressing the fact that Nie Mingjue had a bastard in the first place, and that his existence had been kept secret. Second, was that word about an agreement had gotten out between himself and the youth’s guardians, although the details weren’t made public. Finally, there was the added attention on him to see what he would do now that the youth was out in the world.

So far, he had had to smile and tell the truth. No, he really hadn’t ever met the kid before. No, he didn’t know what the kid was like. No, he couldn’t speak to the kid’s cultivation abilities.

Thankfully, there hadn’t been any large meetings or conferences yet, so he hadn’t been confronted on the matter in front of a crowd. Up until now, questions had come in more private settings, but even then, those in positions high enough to ask knew it still wasn’t proper.

Bastard or not, the kid was fatherless due to a horrible murder at the hands of that man.

Nie Huaisang sighed in the shadows cast from the streak of sunlight in the room. Although he hadn’t forgotten about the child’s existence, he had never thought for a moment the child would be a girl.

This really did complicate things.

He not only had to cover for his decisions leading to this point, but he would have to manage the fall-out when the cultivation world discovered they’d been duped. Honestly, it was amazing the girl had made it this long without being discovered.

Leave it to the Lans.

What did she look like? If she hadn’t been found out yet, then she must not be very pretty. Xia Gongmin had said that his sister had done her due diligence in shaping Xia Luo up to be a passable boy, and if word hadn’t made it to him yet that she was a sad excuse for a son of Nie Mingjue, then she couldn’t be weak or lacking in any area enough to draw negative attention.

What did Xia Shunchao do to this girl?

Whatever the story was, it could only end one way, and he needed to be ready for it.

“Oh, Da-ge, if only you could see the mess our clan is in,” said Nie Huaisang to the painting of Nie Mingjue on the wall.

“You ended up with an heir, but it turns out that heir is a girl, so not much of an heir at all. I already took up the position of clan leader in your stead, and now I can guide the clans as Chief Cultivator, but an uncle? Do you really expect me to be a shishu to your bastard daughter? What can I even do with a niece?”

Nie Huaisang flicked his fan open and fluttered it in front of his face, deep in his musings.

“What can I do with a manly niece, no less.”

The bar of sunlight on the desk flickered out before returning. A stray cloud must have passed over the sun momentarily.

Nie Huaisang shut his fan and tapped his fingers on its delicate wooden spine. All pieces had their place, and since the board was always shifting, there was always room for new and unexpected pieces to fit in.

“Da-ge, what would you have me do with your daughter? I signed an agreement to fulfill the deal you made. I could always nullify it, given the terms were set on false understandings.” He pondered this idea.

“That feels like a waste, somehow.”

If the girl was keeping up with the Lan disciples, then she couldn’t be a poor cultivator. The fact that Xia Shunchao had felt so confident in her that she sent her to the Cloud Recesses in the first place spoke volumes to Xia Luo’s foundations and potential.

“Or,” Nie Huaisang said, countering his own thoughts, “Xia Shunchao is good at making a boy out of a girl but overestimates the kid’s abilities. Mm, that feels unlikely. If she’s half the strategist that her brother was in the war room and on the battlefield, then she’s made her calculations.” Nie Huaisang tapped his folded fan against his palm.

“In that case,” he said, a smile tugging up the corner of his lips, “I wonder what Clan Leader Lan will do.”

* * * * *

Mist swirled so it obscured the ground and made it difficult to see more than a few paces ahead. Robes fluttered despite the lack of moving air, but they didn’t make a sound.

Because of the uncanny conditions, Lan Xichen determined he must be dreaming.

He’d been dreaming a lot since his final encounter with Jin Guangyao. Although, if he was going to be honest with himself, they weren’t really dreams but nightmares. Almost every night he was plagued with dreams and nightmares alike so that he hardly managed to get any restful sleep. If Lan Xichen were any less adept at using meditation as a means of obtaining some rest, he might have fallen apart completely some time ago.

Looking around him, and with no discernable landmarks to tell him what kind of dream this might be, he simply waited for the ghosts in his heart and mind to take shape and torment him.

Sure enough, a shadowy form appeared in the mist and gradually came into focus. Lan Xichen’s heart sank as he took in the tall stature and broad shoulders. So this was how it was going to be.

“You almost never come to see me,” he said, his voice soft. “When you do, it’s only ever as I last saw you.”

He had his eyes downcast so as to avoid the glare and snarling hatred he had seen on Nie Mingjue’s face when he saw him as a fierce corpse. He understood why he would appear this way to him, but it still hurt. Even if that look hadn’t been directed at him.

“He fooled me for so long…”

Lan Xichen startled and stopped. Instead of grabbing him by the throat and thrashing him, the figure strode past him as though it hadn’t seen him. When he looked up, Lan Xichen was shocked by what he saw.

Instead of the tattered under-layers Nie Mingjue’s fierce corpse had been wearing and his matted, dirty hair, this figure was dressed impeccably and had its hair pulled into Nie Mingjue’s signature hairstyle. After freezing for a moment, Lan Xichen broke into motion and hurried to follow the figure striding away from him to take him in fully. It had been over a decade since he had seen him this way, and he was desperate for any vision of him he could get.

“Da-ge! Da-ge, wait!” he called, his footsteps silent on the misty ground.

The figure never stopped, but Lan Xichen managed to catch up and run in front of him to see his face.

Right then, the figure stopped. Lan Xichen’s breath caught in his throat.

Nie Mingjue was looking right at him.

“Da-ge…”

With a lurch, the mist underfoot swirled and sent Lan Xichen toppling over. He rolled unceremoniously until he came to a stop by someone’s boots. Like a breath blowing out a candle, the mist vanished in an instant.

Having learned to be cautious in his dreams as of late, Lan Xichen looked up before making any other move. Two pairs of folded arms hung over his head, the white robes of one hanging down while the charcoal robes of the other were cinched in by leather bracers.

Two pairs of smiling eyes looked over him as he took in Nie Mingjue’s and his own youthful faces. These younger projections pulled their younger brothers forward to give their greetings, then let them go so they could resume hiding behind their older siblings. Although young Wangji and Huaisang were there, the adult Lan Xichen only had eyes for Nie Mingjue.

Before he could reach out to touch the youth’s face, the ground fell away beneath him and plunged him into darkness.

There was no way to tell where he was. He might have been in a cave, in a clearing in the woods, or in a starless night sky for all he could discern. When he called out, his voice was swallowed by the darkness and reached no one.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the darkness like a rusted sword through flesh. It rent the black space around him asunder and shook his bones.

  “Chifeng-zun knew where his duties lay,” said the voice, the words echoing around him.

“He produced an heir. What have you done in all this time?”

A face with eyes as black as the surrounding space leered at him, its form massive as it came into focus before fading away.

Lan Xichen stepped backwards, his heart racing. It’s just a dream , he told himself, just like the rest .

“You’ve never been decisive,” the voice hissed, the face looming in the dark behind him. Lan Xichen spun around, but the giant face disappeared again.

“You’ve always been too soft, too compassionate, too accepting,” it taunted, black eyes boring holes into the back of his head each time it reappeared.

Lan Xichen clenched his jaw and closed his eyes tightly. No matter what meditative techniques he tried in his dreams, they never did any good. In the end, it was his grief and depression that conjured up these illusions, and those were not so easily shaken.

“You wish you had what your brother has,” the voice said, the words skittering out through a broken smile.

“But you’ll never have that kind of happiness. No matter how long you wait, you’ll  — ”

Lan Xichen whirled around to confront the face, but when he did, it came right up to him. Its massive mouth spread into a grin as the voice turned decidedly feminine before becoming horribly distorted at the final words as it said:

“I took that all away from you.”

The face split into two, one cold and the other unassuming, both of them gleeful in their power to destroy his happiness.

With a gasp, Lan Xichen sat up in bed, his sheets strewn about him. He put a hand to his forehead to find it covered in sweat. Tonight had been like every other night, full of nightmares.

On shaky legs, Lan Xichen rose from bed and walked to the open window to look outside. The night was illuminated by only a faint crescent of moon so that the stars littering the night sky over the Cloud Recesses outshone the moon. Seeing those points of light, Lan Xichen steadied his breathing as he grounded himself once more in reality and the present.

Jin Guangyao often frequented his dreams. Seeing his face come into clarity before he woke was no real surprise to Lan Xichen. The other face was new, however. Although that face was younger than it would be in the present day, Lan Xichen understood the emotions fueling its admission into his dream and could only cradle his head in his hands at the thought.

It was unfair to Xia Luo that his feelings would be strong enough to conjure an image of Xia Shunchao’s younger self into his dreams and hold her partly responsible for his unfathomable feelings of loss. Lan Xichen knew this and whispered an apology to Xia Luo into the night sky, hoping that the stars would hear him and send the youth restful sleep.

For all the progress Lan Xichen felt he was making during the day, it was as though the night took its payment for it in full.

* * * * *

Xia Luo plunged through her bed and woke with a start, her heart pounding. With a groan, she rolled from the bed and went to the basin to splash her face with water.

This was not the first time she had woken in this manner, jolted from sleep by the sensation of falling through her bed. For many nights now she dreamt of the same thing, and it always ended the same way.

She would find herself in a bamboo forest, the bamboo sparse enough to move through easily but thick around like a man’s arm. From one side of the forest she would hear a rumbling, like a stampede of horses or some other hoofed beast. On the other side of the forest would be the sound of snarling and growling, the sound of the ground tearing under hundreds of claws or like the hissing of hundreds of serpents.

No matter how hard Xia Luo would try, she could never escape either of the approaching disasters; she could run in either direction that should take her out of the way of both of them, but it made no difference. Bobbing and weaving through the bamboo, it was as if she hadn’t made it anywhere at all, as if she were still standing right where she had started out in the middle of the forest. The stampede and the prowling beasts still found her.

The first time she had the dream, she had woken with a yell ready to escape from her throat. Panicked and terrified of alerting anyone, she had stuffed her fist into her mouth to muffle the sound. After dreaming the same thing so many times, she no longer woke with a shout, but the frustration of having her sleep disrupted over and over elicited some silent curses.

It wasn’t the anxiety of being crushed that woke her up. Rather, it was the pain of being impaled through the ribs on one side and slashed in the neck on the other.

To make things worse, Xia Luo didn’t know what the creatures were that killed her every night. She could guess, but she had never gotten clear visuals on them. The few times she tried to take a stand just so she could see what was coming for her, the location of the wounds would change but she would still be left without a view of the killer beast. It was as though they ran at her but didn’t exist in a physical form.

Whatever the case, Xia Luo was not one for interpreting dreams. She was eager to brush it away and go back to sleep before she had to rise to help prepare breakfast in the kitchen.

Unfortunately for her, there was no time for more sleep. The first call for morning drifted through the heavy pre-dawn air, signaling her time to rise for kitchen duty.

Go figure.

Miffed by the inopportune timing of her dream, Xia Luo got ready with her eyes closed as she tried to center herself before leaving her room. It wouldn’t do to show up for duty with a sour look on her face, after all.

In the kitchen, the dull hum of Lans working swiftly helped calm Xia Luo’s nerves. After nearly a month of kitchen duty, Xia Luo had come to appreciate the sounds of pots and pans, of boiling water, and of the rhythmic chopping of ingredients on wooden boards. There was something about the kitchen that felt so familiar and homey to her. With a scoff, she mused over the irony of finding the kitchen comforting, despite its use as her punishment, especially since she was a girl.

It makes sense a boy would be punished with women’s work.

There was a strange divide in Xia Luo’s mind as she thought this. On the one hand, she had fond memories of learning to cook and of eating the meals she made. There was a deep satisfaction that came from making something delicious out of an assortment of otherwise uninteresting ingredients. On the other hand, she had been taught to view cooking as a low-skill task that women had to be good at in order to be worth anything. Xia Shunchao had made sure that Xia Luo understood where a woman belonged and that she should do everything in her power to avoid those places.

Looking around, however, the Lan kitchen was entirely staffed by men.

I guess it’s different because this whole side of the mountain only has men. It would be strange if they brought women over just to cook.

The Lan men and boys didn’t seem bothered that they were in the kitchen. Although a number of the younger boys looked sleepy, no one looked like they were being mocked or insulted by having to work in the kitchen.

It’s still weird that they stay entirely separate from the women , Xia Luo thought.

Had she been molded less by Xia Shunchao’s misguided teachings, Xia Luo might have followed this thought and connected it with her previous ones. However, she was still too young and freshly removed from her mother’s controlling hand to come to any great realizations about the duality she fostered within her mind.

At the end of breakfast preparations, Xia Luo cupped her hands at the elder in charge of the kitchen and departed.

Although the elder knew she was troubled, he couldn’t help but smile at her retreating back. He had developed a soft spot for Xia Luo and hoped that Lan Xichen could help turn things around, both for the youth as well as himself.

* * * * *

The final days of Xia Luo’s punishment came and went, and with them the ban on her attending Night Hunts was lifted as well. Lan Xichen blessed off on her being allowed to join Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi whenever the next Night Hunt came up, but he had decided to continue their private lessons.

Although Xia Luo still felt awful about the effects her presence might have on Lan Xichen’s state of mind, she had also become accustomed to their routine. Even though life as a guest disciple with the Gusu Lan was already structured, having the extra lessons reminded her of growing up at the Xia residence, and that provided a sense of comfort to her.

Xia Luo took Lan Xichen’s extension of their lessons as a sign that he still didn’t trust her temper even though he hadn’t seen it flare since that first time. Either way, it wasn’t all meditation; when they weren’t silently meditating together, they would study history, poetry, and the classics.

The first time that Lan Xichen saw her handwriting, he nearly tipped the ink beside him out of shock.

“This… this is…” he said, and Xia Luo had flushed in shame.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, angry tears stinging her eyes. It felt like she couldn’t do anything around this man that wouldn’t remind him of the sworn brother he had lost.

“No, do not apologize,” he replied as he swiftly tried to collect himself. “It is just a bit uncanny.”

“It isn’t. None of it is,” Xia Luo said so softly he almost hadn’t heard.

Her voice was full of derision, but it wasn’t directed at him. Seeing that she wouldn’t say more, Lan Xichen continued the lesson, although Xia Luo could feel his eyes tracing every character she wrote.

To say that they made much progress in their month together would have been an overstatement. It was true that Xia Luo was now speaking to him, but she was minimal with her words and what she said was often cryptic and carried with it a heavy cloud of self-loathing. On Lan Xichen’s end, he had started to open up more with Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, but instead of getting better emotionally, it seemed as though he had a whole new set of problems to contend with. New worries supplanted some of the old, while others morphed into new worries that held a greater level of complexity and depth.

As for their relationship, Lan Xichen had learned enough to understand that Xia Luo was not a hateful person that would seek to maim or kill someone for speaking ill about her, let alone an innocent person as a stand-in for the badmouther. He gathered that Xia Luo’s relationship with her mother was contentious and still off limits for discussion, as well as that Xia Luo was very much unaware of the events surrounding Nie Mingjue’s death or his current situation. It was this last fact that weighed heavily on Lan Xichen’s mind, though he had no idea how to broach the subject, or if he even should. Perhaps some things were best left undisclosed, at least for now.

What Lan Xichen did not know was that Xia Luo was a girl. Up until this point, Xia Luo’s voice was still lower than usual from lack of use and she hadn’t said enough for him to properly gauge her speech. As for appearances, Xia Luo hid judiciously behind her bangs to keep her eyes covered. When she was alone, she scrutinized her face to see what similarities it held compared to the boys and found that the only thing that could give her away were her eyes. 

Although she couldn’t pinpoint what made them different, she simply understood that they were not the eyes of a male disciple. This realization only made her scowl deeper, so even if someone did see her eyes clearly, they might focus on the scowl as opposed to anything else.

Fortunately for Xia Luo, her interactions with Hanguang-jun and Wei Wuxian were non-existent in the past month because of how busy her punishments kept her. Even when she did have time once her kitchen duties ended and the boys invited her to go with them, Xia Luo turned down their offers. There was something about Wei Wuxian that made her wary of being around him, like he could see more of her than the others could.

He’s too feminine for a man. Maybe that’s what it is. It’s like he ended up with what I should have had.

As for the others, the elders kept to themselves and the disciples stayed well away from her. They still whispered about her, but these whispers were less threatening to Xia Luo than the ones from before. She didn’t feel so nervous about getting exposed as a girl anymore because there was no way anyone would doubt her brutish masculinity after the show at the sword lesson.

Thinking this, Xia Luo had to push down a bitter feeling. It didn’t matter. She should consider herself lucky for being able to pass so easily.

Easily. Now that’s a lie .

What hadn’t she given in order to pass? She might not have chosen it willingly, but she had still given up so much.

With a snarl that almost left her lips, she turned back to the boys.

Lan Sizhui tipped his head at her. “Is everything alright? You look put off.”

Xia Luo shook her head. Everything was just fine. Lan Xichen didn’t know she was a girl, Wei Wuxian didn’t know, and none of the disciples, even the two that she spent most of her time with, knew she was a girl. That was what mattered right now.

“We got some word about a Night Hunt Hanguang-jun would like us to go on,” said Lan Sizhui.

“Yeah, and you’ll be able to go with us!” Lan Jingyi added, his excitement showing in his broad smile.

Although the month of punishment hadn’t been too long, Xia Luo still found the prospect of getting a break from the mountaintop refreshing. She was careful not to get too excited for a change in pace, though, because the last few times things differed from the usual order had been for the worse.

Chapter Text

After a month of lockdown and very little free time, the views outside of the Cloud Recesses were all the more beautiful to Xia Luo. Soaring over forests, fields, and rivers from high overhead on her sword, it felt like she was spreading her wings out for the first time since leaving the Xia estate some months prior.

Xia Luo let the muscles between her brows relax, the usual scowl she wore melting into a neutral expression that almost betrayed her feeling of calm. No matter what, the prospect of a fight with some beast or spirit always made her feel lighter until she felt almost weightless standing on Yongyao.

Ahead of her, Lan Sizhui signaled their descent. Dropping in altitude, the three disciples skimmed over some fields before landing a short distance away from a town located next to a forest. Unlike the small town they had gone to before, this town was larger and was bordered by a forest that was much denser than the other. There were depths to the forest that cast everything in navy shadows that tricked the eye; it was difficult to tell just how far those dark patches went and what might lie within them.

The trio sheathed their weapons and walked into town to get their bearings and see if they could find out some information. At the moment, all they knew was that there seemed to be a band of aggressive monkeys that was harassing the town.

The people strolling along the street reminded Xia Luo of the people in the small town her mother would take her to on a rare occasion; they were neither incredibly well to do, nor were they poor. Generally, their clothing pointed to the merchant class that probably dealt in the grain that grew prolifically in the area. The farmers who grew the grain were notably missing from the crowd, likely on account of currently attending to their fields.

Lan Sizhui approached one modestly dressed man and cupped his hands in greeting.

“Good afternoon, sir. We’re here after receiving a request to look into an issue with some monkeys. Do you happen to know anything about this matter?” he said.

The man, who had been all smiles upon seeing such finely attired young cultivators, now frowned and looked uncomfortable.

“No, sorry, I don’t know anything,” he said, then hurried away.

Lan Jingyi made a face. “That was weird.”

“We’ll just ask someone else,” said Lan Sizhui with a shrug.

“Excuse me, sorry to bother you,” he said, stopping a man who had nodded at them in greeting. “Do you happen to know anything about an issue with monkeys bothering the town?”

“Monkeys?” the man repeated, “no, no, I don’t know anything about monkeys.” Without another word, he hurried off as well.

“Okay, that’s not a coincidence,” said Lan Jingyi. “They definitely know something!”

Lan Sizhui tried again and was met with a denial of knowing anything about the matter. After the third attempt, Lan Jingyi was getting excited.

“There’s got to be something going on here! There’s no way they don’t know anything about monkeys harassing the town. Hanguang-jun doesn’t get wrong information,” he said.

“I guess we’ll just have to keep on asking,” said Lan Sizhui. He was about to approach another man when Xia Luo stopped him.

“Xia Luo, what is it?” he said. “Do you have a different idea?”

Xia Luo nodded. The three men that Lan Sizhui had asked were all dressed in a way that marked them out as part of the merchant class, but there were some individuals who were dressed more coarsely. If the men dressed in the finer robes didn’t want to speak, then perhaps one of the less well off women would.

She approached a woman who looked to be a farmer’s wife and gave a small bow in greeting before standing aside so Lan Sizhui could speak. Although he didn’t know why she had chosen this person, he didn’t hesitate before asking the woman if she knew anything.

The woman’s eyes went round and her shoulders dropped in relief. “Yes! But please,” she said, looking around to see if anyone was listening to them, “you have to be careful.”

“Careful?” asked Lan Jingyi. He dropped his voice. “Why do we have to be careful?”

“You’re the first person who has admitted to knowing about these monkeys,” said Lan Sizhui.

The woman nodded. “Of course they won’t speak about it!” she said, her words coming out like a hiss. “It was because they let the monkeys drag her away!”

“Drag who away?” asked Lan Jingyi. Xia Luo could see from his body language that he was getting excited. He might be afraid of ghosts, but he still loved a good mystery.

“There was a lame girl in town, a farmer's daughter. She would sell produce here and return home in the evening,” the woman said. “One day, she packed up and had just come to the edge of the forest when a band of monkeys attacked her.”

Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi were fully invested in the story and were startled when Xia Luo bent down beside them to pass some coins over to the woman in exchange for a couple of pears. Although they looked mortified at how unprofessional Xia Luo’s behavior was, the woman only laughed. With the tension around the group broken and a small basket of pears in Xia Luo’s hands, the few people that had been watching the woman with suspicion gradually turned away and got back to their own business.

They are all trying to keep this information hidden, thought Xia Luo. She bit into a pear.

“A good appetite even in the face of danger and mystery,” the woman commented, a loving smile on her face. “How good to have a son that shows so much strength and fortitude. Your father must be very proud.”

Xia Luo swallowed down a grimace and hid the rest by biting into the pear again.

“Yes, now about the monkeys,” Lan Sizhui said, trying to break the silence and prompt her to continue her story.

“Yes. They came out of the woods and surrounded the girl. She screamed and cried for help, but no one in town went to help her,” she said, her expression hardening. “Of course they won’t say anything about it; it’s their fault the monkeys took her. All of the farmers were back home before then, so the only people left in town were those who have the luxury to walk about town and make a show of themselves. It’s our grain, produce, and animals that feed them, yet they won’t lift a finger to help one of us.”

“When did this happen?” asked Lan Sizhui. Hanguang-jun had mentioned this Night Hunt about a week ago, so it had to be at least that long ago.

“Just over a week ago,” the woman replied. “But ever since then, there have been monkeys that come and run wild through town in the middle of the night. They make an awful racket, or so I’m told. I stay away from town when I can.”

All three of the disciples shared the same feeling: it was unlikely the girl was still alive.

“Will you be in trouble for speaking with us?” asked Lan Sizhui.

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll just pack up for the day and go home. If you are here to solve this, then they won’t be able to say anything about me exposing their shame. And if they try,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Well, they’ll have to deal with my husband. That, or they’ll find that grain is suddenly very hard to come by.”

The trio bid the woman farewell and went to take shelter in a nearby tea house, but Xia Luo could hear her quietly muttering to herself about how the grain prices weren’t doing any good for the farmers.

Seems like the merchants are striking an unfair deal.

“Huh, I guess we’ll have to wait till the sun goes down,” noted Lan Jingyi.

The group had taken a table in the tea house and were just deciding on what to do next.

“I wonder what kind of monkeys they are,” said Lan Sizhui. “It’s a bit odd that there were monkeys that showed up one day, took the girl, and have been coming back since. Why did they show up in the first place?”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Lan Jingyi agreed. “Xia Luo, do you think they could be yao beasts?” he asked, looking over just in time to see Xia Luo polishing off the last pear.

“Woah! Did you eat all of those already?” he said.

Xia Luo nudged the empty basket to the side to make room for the waitress to set down their tea.

“Mn.”

Lan Sizhui thanked the waitress who smiled shyly back at him. Xia Luo watched her expression and the way she almost hovered by the table for a moment before walking away with the tray held against her chest. Whatever she was thinking, Lan Sizhui hadn’t seemed to notice at all.

“Well, do you?” Lan Jingyi asked again.

Xia Luo wrote on a paper from her sleeve. “Maybe. Monkeys are smart, though, so normal monkeys are still a possibility.”

“We could ask around a bit more,” said Lan Sizhui, “see if we can find out anything else.”

“No point. Yao or not, we’ll have to kill them.”

Lan Jingyi leaned back. “I think Xia Luo’s right. If they’re aggressive, which they seem to be, then there’s only one way to make things peaceful in town again. That said, can you believe it! Who would just watch a girl get –”

Xia Luo thrust a teacup into Lan Jingyi’s hands, causing him to stop mid sentence so he could panic over how hot it was. When he looked over at her for an explanation, all he got was a mild glare.

“It’s best to keep our voices down,” said Lan Sizhui, blowing on his tea before taking a sip.

Seeing how much time these two spend together, it’s amazing how little of Hanguang-jun’s teachings rubbed off on Lan Jingyi , thought Xia Luo. She admired Lan Sizhui’s calm demeanor, which after meeting Hanguang-jun, she knew he had definitely developed from lessons with him.

Lan Jingyi pouted but took his tea in silence nonetheless.

“So, what should we do to pass the time?” he said after a while. “Also, are we going to wait outside of town for the monkeys to show up, or should we go looking for them?”

Lan Sizhui set his teacup down. “I don’t know if we should go into the woods to look for them. They could be anywhere, and we don’t know if they’re yao or not. They might not behave like normal monkeys.”

“What if they don’t show up tonight? I guess we’d just have to wait around in town until they did,” said Lan Jingyi.

“Well, let’s hope they show up tonight. The woman made it sound like they come around most nights, so let’s just be ready,” said Lan Sizhui. “As for how we can pass the time, maybe the locals have some suggestions.”

Just then the waitress came up to take away their empty tea pot and cups.

“Excuse me,” she said, the same shy look coloring her cheeks, “I overheard that you were looking for something to do to pass the time.”

“Yeah, we are!” responded Lan Jingyi. “Do you have any suggestions?”

The girl nodded. When she answered Lan Jingyi, however, she directed her answer to Lan Sizhui.

“If the young masters like games, we have a game hall on the other end of town,” she said. “If the young masters are looking for something more physical, then we have an excellent archery range just outside of the main town for you to enjoy. If the young masters like,” she said, her lashes dipping low to obscure her eyes, “this one could show you the way.”

Xia Luo was captivated by the girl’s mannerisms. Images of the group of giggling girls from her day out in town with her mother blinked behind her eyes, their whispers weaving through her head. In a moment of understanding, Xia Luo realized that the girl might not be shy normally, but she was shy right now because she found Lan Sizhui attractive. When she looked at the boy who dominated the girl’s attention, there was no such expression reflected back.

“Thank you for the recommendations,” said Lan Sizhui. “There is no need to trouble yourself. We’ll wander through town and perhaps give them both a look.”

The girl’s shy smile faltered. “Of course,” she said, her voice small. With that, she gathered up the tea items and left with them on her tray.

Of course. He’s never been around girls his age. I guess that makes both of us, thought Xia Luo. Watching the girl hurry off to the kitchen, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit sorry for her.

“It’s too hot for archery,” remarked Lan Jingyi. “And if it’s a game hall, then it’s probably also a gambling hall.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Lan Sizhui said. “Let’s walk around and see what we can find.”

Would any of us even know how to play any of the games? I only played a few games with Jiujiu, and I doubt the Lans play many games.

The group ended up passing the day by walking around the town and observing the ebb and flow of life on a regular day. The woman who had spoken with them earlier had indeed packed up and left, to which Lan Sizhui commented that he hoped they could solve the issue quickly so they wouldn’t be the cause of too much trouble between the townspeople.

When sunset started approaching, they went to station themselves outside the town’s main gates to wait.

While the boys watched the forest line to catch any glimpse of movement, Xia Luo turned her attention back to the town. Even though they hadn’t spread word of what they were planning to do, the townspeople could guess and were making arrangements. After all, cultivators never chose their town to vacation in, so their presence could only mean one thing.

From all the upper story windows, Xia Luo could see faces full of anticipation looking out to watch them. After the woman’s story from early, Xia Luo could be sure that they weren’t keeping lookout to help them so much as they wanted a good view of the show. Had it been like this when the lame girl was taken?

Wretched. Maybe they deserve to be harassed by monkeys.

Xia Luo turned away from the town when the shifting light of dusk obscured their faces and left only their forms silhouetted by candlelight in the background visible. Whether or not the people deserved their help was not up to her to decide.

From the cover of the trees, strange sounds could be heard. Without knowing the source, the sound was eerie and made one’s skin prickle. There was an animal quality to the sound that made it unnerving; it was the sound of something too close to human and yet unfamiliar.

“If that’s the monkeys,” said Lan Jingyi, “then they certainly know how to make an entrance.”

Lan Sizhui gripped the hilt of his sword. “If no one has stood up to them before, then they probably feel confident coming back again.”

“It’s like a victory cheer, but they haven’t even done anything to win yet!” exclaimed Lan Jingyi.

Xia Luo narrowed her eyes and scanned the edge of the forest. The sound of yowling and whooping grew nearer, but still no monkey revealed itself. Behind them, Xia Luo could feel countless eyes on their backs.

How annoying.

The noise stopped abruptly. For a minute, the trio stared at the edge of the forest, and while they couldn’t see anything, they shared the sense that something was staring back at them. Then, as suddenly as the noise stopped, it started again.

For a wide span along the forest edge, tree branches shook violently and turned the monkeys’ calls into a cacophony. Unable to see the monkeys themselves, to anyone unaccustomed to the behavior of beasts, it was an unnerving scene.

“Are they trying to scare us?” said Lan Jingyi, his sword drawn.

“I think they’re trying to intimidate us, or see what we plan to do,” Lan Sizhui responded. He, too, had drawn his sword and held it loosely in front of him. “I wonder if they’ll come out, or if we’ll have to make the first move.”

Xia Luo was used to dealing with beasts. Although she was no expert, most of her Night Hunts growing up had been to deal with various yao beasts and other troublesome creatures, so she was well versed in how to engage with them. For this reason, she stood at ease and watched the trees until they stopped shaking.

“Huh? They stopped. Did they leave?” asked Lan Jingyi, lowering his sword.

“Surely not,” said Lan Sizhui.

Definitely not, thought Xia Luo.

From the tree line exploded a scream that sent Lan Jingyi back two steps from surprise. With a sound that signaled dozens of monkeys, hairy, long-armed forms launched from the trees and began approaching the group.

“Ah, they’re coming!” shouted Lan Jingyi, raising his sword once more.

They’re not coming close enough, thought Xia Luo. They want us to go into the woods.

“Hey, they aren’t coming closer,” Lan Sizhui said in a mirror to her thoughts.

Sure enough, the monkeys had come out maybe a third of the distance between the woods and the trio, and while they were making wide sweeping movements to provoke them, they weren’t approaching further.

Xia Luo drew Yongyao and hopped on.

“Huh? You want us to go after them?” asked Lan Jingyi. “Won’t we be going into their territory?”

“Mn.”

“That’s a bad idea!” he exclaimed. “Sizhui, it’s a bad idea, right?”

“Well, if they won’t come to us, then I suppose we don’t have much of a choice,” said Lan Sizhui.

“But then they can jump us from the trees. We’ll be surrounded! We don’t even know how many of them there are, or what they really are. Are they just monkeys, or are they yao?” protested Lan Jingyi.

Xia Luo held out her hand to Lan Sizhui and gestured to him to give her his hand. In his palm, she drew two characters with her finger.

“I see,” he said, nodding. “We’ll make the first move to test them and to get close enough to see what they really are. We can judge their strength by a quick engagement, and since we won’t be in the forest, we can still make a quick retreat if we need to.”

“Okay, that sounds like a good plan. I like that a lot better than going right into the forest!” agreed Lan Jingyi.

The boys mounted their swords to hover beside Xia Luo, and on Lan Sizhui’s word, they were off.

“Remember,” he called as they sped along, “just strike them once or twice to see what they’re about and then back off!”

In a matter of seconds, they had closed the gap between them and the monkeys. With the help of the pale moonlight from overhead, they leapt from their swords and sent them to swipe at the monkeys that howled in anger at their sudden appearance.

None of their swords made contact, so they recalled them and went in closer to attack. Lan Jingyi was shouting all the while, and Lan Sizhui was calling back responses so their voices melded into the mix of monkey screams.

All this noise. It’s disorienting.

Xia Luo sliced at a monkey that leapt at her with its teeth bared in a snarl but had to redirect her sword to block a monkey that came at her from the side. As one dodged, the other retreated and came at her from another angle. They bobbed and weaved at her in a way that seemed uncannily strategic.

They’re working in pairs?

Lan Sizhui must have been experiencing the same issue, because he called out. “I think their attacks are coordinated!”

Are they smart enough for that?

“Waahhh! Guys, help me!” Lan Jingyi’s cry pierced through the noise.

When Xia Luo looked over, Lan Jingyi had been seized by three monkeys. His sword was in the hands of a fourth monkey, but it threw it aside and grabbed his one free leg with a wicked grin. Before she or Lan Sizhui could make it to him, the monkeys dragged him into the woods and out of sight.

The monkeys that had been attacking Xia Luo and Lan Sizhui persisted and even intensified their attacks for another minute before backing off and swinging into the trees. They disappeared with a whoop of laughter.

“We have no choice now!” yelled Lan Sizhui. He snatched up Lan Jingyi’s sword and rushed into the forest with Xia Luo on his heels.

In the darkness of the forest, they could hear Lan Jingyi yowling with fear and frustration. They flew for a bit but were soon forced to land and take to the ground instead. It was too dark under the canopy and the trees were too densely packed to safely fly.

Following Lan Jingyi’s shouts was tricky. As fast as Xia Luo and Lan Sizhui ran, the monkeys carried off Lan Jingyi just a bit faster. There were also monkeys that swung in the trees overhead that would leap down to impede them, and were always just a bit too fast for either of the youths to land a hit.

How many are there, anyway?

“Xia Luo, this way! I think I hear him more clearly from over here!” shouted Lan Sizhui, turning off to the right.

They plunged through the forest for only a few more paces when Lan Sizhui let out a surprised cry.

“Stop!” he yelled, but it was too late. Xia Luo crashed into his back and sent them both tumbling head first into a wide clearing strewn thick with fallen leaves.

A bit dazed from the fall, it took a moment for Xia Luo to reorient herself. Something moved beneath her and startled her into an upright sitting position. With one hand pressing down firmly to hold down whatever it was that had started moving, Xia Luo blinked in the dark and her eyes went wide.

“Hey, Xia Luo, you’re on top of me. Hopefully you had a soft landing,” said Lan Sizhui, a weak smile audible in his voice.

Xia Luo drew back her hand from Lan Sizhui’s chest and jumped away from him. She cleared her throat as a sign of an apology, then turned away in embarrassment before turning back to extend a hand to help him up.

What am I doing? It’s not like I tried to land on him that way! She chastised herself for such childish behavior.

“Thanks,” he said, accepting her hand.

See, he thinks nothing of it. He didn’t think anything of the waitress from earlier, either.

“Guys? Is that you?” Lan Jingyi’s voice sounded from not too far away.

“Jingyi? Where are you?” said Lan Sizhui. The moonlight hardly filtered through the trees in this part of the forest, so visibility was minimal.

“Over here,” he said. “The monkeys dumped me here after I stopped yelling.”

“They let you go?” said Lan Sizhui. “Where are they now?”

The pair made their way over to where Lan Jingyi’s voice was coming from.

“I don’t know. I stopped yelling so I could catch my breath, but then they threw me down here and left,” he said. “I’m not sure if it’s because they got sick of me making so much noise, because I stopped making noise, or because this is where they wanted to take me.”

“Ah! What was that!” he yelled out.

“That was me,” said Lan Sizhui. “I wish we had better visibility down here. Anyway, are you hurt?”

While Lan Sizhui checked over Lan Jingyi to make sure nothing was broken, Xia Luo reached into her sleeve and drew out a small torch and a talisman. She activated the talisman and held it to the torch to light it. It came to life with a hiss before settling into a low glow that cast short shadows around them. When she turned to get a bearing on their surroundings, she was greeted by a dozen or so pairs of glowing green eyes that stood around the rim of the clearing.

On three sides of the clearing the forest stood high overhead, the trees appearing to loom over the group from their place set into the earth. If the monkeys had planned this, as it seemed they had, then they had intended to lure all three of them to a place where escape would only be possible through one route.

Even though we have swords, I don’t trust those monkeys wouldn’t leap out to grab us if we tried to fly out.

Behind her, Lan Jingyi was babbling to Lan Sizhui when he yelled out and tugged Lan Sizhui aside. Two monkeys had landed beside them and were sizing them up. It was only now that Xia Luo was able to get a better visual on what exactly the monkeys looked like. 

The monkeys had long arms and flat faces, the fur that made up the facial disk fanning out to make the creature’s head seem larger than it really was. The way the torch light gleamed off the fur gave it a golden glow that hinted at orange fur. What should have been the size of a very young child was the size of a very large dog.

“Xia Luo!” said Lan Sizhui who was fighting off the two monkeys with Lan Jingyi at his back. “Are these yao? If they are, would they still have a pack leader?”

“Mn,” Xia Luo said as she rushed at one of the monkeys with Yongyao.

“How do we find the leader?” Lan Jingyi asked. “These things are persistent!”

Xia Luo scanned the perimeter of the clearing but couldn’t see much despite the torch.

Where is the moonlight? We’re in a clearing, so it should make it down here!

Experience dictated that when monkey yao were involved that there would still be a leader. That said, Xia Luo found it odd that there were so many of the same kind of monkey yao in the same place.

What could have happened to the local monkey population to breed so much resentment?

Xia Luo gritted her teeth and launched forward with Yongyao to give herself enough space to hop on its blade and speed at one unsuspecting monkey on the ridge. Torch in hand, she thrust it into the chest of the monkey and set it on fire, the acrid scent of burning fur immediately filling her nose.

Unexpectedly, the beast didn’t continue to burn but instead burst into a ball of green fire before going out entirely.

Did that kill it? I’ve never seen a yao do that before.

Lan Sizhui’s voice hardly reached her over the near deafening pitch of the monkey’s screams so that she didn’t hear what he said. Every single one of the creatures was in an uproar, but even though she had just done something to one of their number, they didn’t seem to be paying her much mind. Instead, a few more monkeys had dropped down from the trees and joined the previous two in harassing Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui.

It was mayhem in the clearing. Xia Luo ran around with the torch in what began to look like a ridiculous game of tag while the boys fended off the monkeys that only seemed to be interested in them.

Why aren’t they coming after me?

Xia Luo grabbed a monkey by the scruff and rammed the torch into its back before hurling it towards another monkey. Just as she did, an explosion sounded from where she had left the boys.

“Whoa! What just happened?” Lan Jingyi’s voice cut through the hubbub. Both he and Lan Sizhui were sprawled on the ground, the last flickers of green flame dancing in the air in front of them.

Since when do yao make green fire when you kill them?

Everything about this situation was getting more and more bizarre.

Xia Luo looped back around and came up to where Lan Sizhui was picking himself up to swing at another monkey, the torch in hand ready to take aim.

“I landed a killing blow on it and it exploded!” exclaimed Lan Jingyi.

Xia Luo was about to make contact with an incoming monkey when the torch fizzled out and died. Caught by surprise, Xia Luo didn’t have time to react before she was shoved out of the way by Lan Sizhui as he took the monkey head on.

“We need to find the leader –” said Lan Sizhui, but was cut off by another explosion that knocked the three of them to the ground and left their already poor night vision impaired further.

“There’s no way that girl survived these monkeys for over a week,” Lan Jingyi groaned.

No kidding. We need to end this.

From high overhead, pale silver light flooded into the clearing as the large cloud previously covering the moon passed and illuminated the golden backs and green eyes of the monkeys. After killing a number of them, there should have been close to six left, but when Xia Luo did a count, there seemed to be just as many as when they had first started.

Impossible!

Up on the ridge, a silent figure appeared, its size and stature marking it as a girl of not more than fifteen years of age. Xia Luo didn’t notice it, but Lan Sizhui had caught the subtle movement and recognized what it must be.

“I see her! I see the girl!” cried Lan Sizhui before he took off on his sword. “We’re here to help you! We can take you back to your home!” he called out to her.

Half of the monkeys that had been trained on the trio turned and pursued him without a second’s hesitation.

“Why would she show up here? That’s a terrible idea!” yelled Lan Jingyi. “If she’s well enough to walk, then she should have headed back to the town while we kept the monkeys occupied!”

Nothing about this Night Hunt was going as it should. If these were proper yao, then they wouldn’t be exploding into green flames when they were hit with a fatal blow. On top of that, the appearance of the girl only raised more questions about the situation.

“I’m going to help Sizhui!” said Lan Jingyi. Before Xia Luo could stop him, he had jumped on his sword and sped across the clearing. Instead of dividing in half again so there were still monkeys enough to trouble Xia Luo, only one monkey stayed behind.

What are they playing at? Do they not see me as a threat? I lit four of them on fire just a few minutes ago!

The monkey watched her through gleaming eyes, its long hair parting behind the facial disk and falling around it to create a large ruff.

You sure are ugly , Xia Luo thought.

As though it had read her thoughts, the monkey bared its teeth so wide that its upper lip completely folded over its snub nose and then let out a scream.

Is it a feifei ? A xiao ?

Whatever it was, Xia Luo had had enough of it. The longer they spent trying to deal with these monkeys the greater the chances were that they would get hurt. Not to mention, the noise the monkeys were making was nigh unbearable.

“She keeps running away from me!” said Lan Sizhui as he landed next to Xia Luo. “And these monkeys are persistent! How come they aren’t following you at all?”

As soon as Lan Sizhui had landed beside Xia Luo and started talking, the singular monkey that had been standing off against her turned its attention to him.

Do they only target males? No, that doesn’t make sense! They took that girl. Unless, they only took her and didn’t harm her, just like they don’t seem to want to harm me.

It wasn’t much, but it was something. When Lan Jingyi landed beside them a moment later, Xia Luo gestured to them that they should stay put. Sure enough, when she took her turn to leave the group, none of the monkeys that had crowded after the Lan boys came after her.

It wasn’t that Xia Luo had never heard of beasts or spirits only targeting either males or females, but something about her theory didn’t feel right in this instance. Like Lan Jingyi had said: if the girl wasn’t hurt, then why wasn’t she trying to get away now that they were distracting the monkeys?

From her peripherals Xia Luo caught a glimpse of the girl. When she dashed under the cover of the trees, Xia Luo jumped from her sword and ran after her. She couldn’t call out to the girl to tell her not to run, but when she got a better view of the expression on the girl’s face, she started to get the feeling that it wouldn’t matter.

Instead of fear or anxiety on the girl’s face there was only frustration. Her browns were knit together and her lips were pressed into a straight line.

Doesn’t she want help?

Xia Luo felt her own frustration flare. Whether the girl wanted their help or not, they were here on a mission. With her temper kicking up, Xia Luo kicked courtesy aside and made a grab for the girl. It was only then that she noticed what made the girl lame.

Although she had two arms, the forearms looked shriveled and were curled in on themselves. Because of this difference in anatomy Xia Luo missed, which gave the girl just enough time to dart forward again.

Then, so abruptly that Xia Luo hadn’t even taken another step, the girl turned around and pointed her mangled arm at Xia Luo. Her eyes blazed green and a monkey lept from behind her right at Xia Luo.

She’s controlling them!

Xia Luo’s eyes went wide as the monkey collided with her, the force of the blow not only halting her forward momentum but knocking her backwards as well. The wind had been knocked out of her and the monkey was not about to give her the chance to catch her breath. It swiped at Xia Luo’s face but was blocked by Yongyao before it grabbed the blade and began to wrestle it from Xia Luo’s grip.

Desperate against the monkey’s inhuman strength, Xia Luo let go of Yongyao and snapped her fan open from her sleeve. The monkey’s scream devolved into a mess of gurgles, and before Xia Luo’s eyes could adjust she felt something hot and sticky coating her hands and running down her forearms.

With a final effort, the monkey that had been about to tear into Xia Luo’s face with its fangs ripped itself off of the bladed edge of her fan and gave one last, shuddering snarl before collapsing.

This time, it did not turn into green flames.

Only some of them are physical. Does that mean… does that mean the rest are illusions?

When Xia Luo stood, the girl was nowhere to be seen, but Xia Luo knew what they needed to do now. She grabbed Yongyao from where the monkey had tossed it aside and ran back to where she could still hear the mad clamor of the others engaged in battle.

No wonder there were still the same number of monkeys left even after we killed some. We managed to hit the illusions! The girl is a malicious spirit who is controlling the very beasts that killed her! And I bet she goes after the townspeople out of revenge and wants to make her targets scream just as much as she did, which is why the monkeys are targeting the boys. They’re the only ones making noise out of the three of us!

Back in the clearing, Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi had met with green flame after green flame and a never-shrinking number of monkeys around them.

“This is insane!” said Lan Jingyi. “It doesn’t make any sense! How are there always more?”

Lan Sizhui swung out and connected a blow with a monkey’s arm. To his surprise, the arm went flying with a spray of blood that sent the monkey into a screaming rage.

“Hey, that one bled! That’s the first one we’ve hit that’s actually bled!” he yelled, a hint of relief in his voice.

“Alright, great. But how do we know which ones will bleed?” asked Lan Jingyi. As he spoke, a flare of green went up from the monkey he had just struck. What he saw in the fading light made him yell in shock.

“Xia Luo! What happened?” he yelled, his eyes huge with worry.

If Xia Luo could have seen herself, she would have understood why Lan Jingyi had reacted the way he had. She was covered in monkey blood from the waist up and was gripping what appeared to be a fan that dripped blood to the ground in large gobs.

Xia Luo didn’t waste a breath. She grabbed Lan Sizhui’s hand and drew in his palm, her blood-soaked hands staining his pale white ones.

“Ghost girl controls monkeys. Stay silent.

The rest of the task was implied.

Although they couldn’t explain why, the moment they stopped making any noise a number of the monkeys fell back, their movements becoming uncertain. If Xia Luo’s theory was right, then it was likely the monkeys that continued to pursue them were the real ones, or at least the ones they could properly kill.

Energized by this new sense of direction, the trio split up and began their silent hunt for the ghost girl. Perhaps because she had been silent from the start, only one monkey followed her through the woods, although a few of the suspected spirit monkeys joined in after a while. Trying to avoid the grabbing arms of the monkeys while looking for the girl was troublesome, but having only one target to really focus on was a worthwhile tradeoff.

From the underbrush the girl appeared with two snarling monkeys flanking her, their green eyes blazing in the dark. Xia Luo whipped a talisman out of her sleeve and reached out. She dodged the spirit monkeys and was about to make contact with the girl when a blinding flash of green impaired her vision and sent her careening headlong into a tangle of vines and branches.

A groan broke through her lips, but she didn’t have time to ponder the cause of her current predicament. From her upside down position she could see the gleaming green eyes of a monkey approaching at a breakneck pace. Before she could retrieve her fan from her sleeve another flash of green cut her vision once more.

Who is going for the monkeys? I thought they understood the objective!

Gritting her teeth, Xia Luo kicked viciously at the branches snaring her right leg in place. The ankle felt swollen inside her boot, possibly sprained or merely twisted. With another kick she freed her leg and pulled herself out of the vines. Although no one was around to see it, her accusatory glare would have cowed even the monkeys from coming near.

Because of the poor light, as Xia Luo stepped gingerly toward the clearing on her tender ankle, she nearly walked right into an arrow sticking out of a tree trunk. Irritated by the proximity of the fletching to her eye, she grabbed the shaft and snapped it close to the trunk before tossing it aside.

Neither of the guys has a bow.

Someone new must have shown up. Across the way, a green flash went off followed by a surprised yell that cut through the persistent howling from the monkeys. Somehow Xia Luo could tell the yell came from Lan Jingyi.

A quick ride on Yongyao brought Xia Luo to where the yell had come from. A flash of green made her turn her head to the side to avoid the glare, but the light was also enough to show her the white-robed form of Lan Jingyi picking himself up off the ground. The whistle of an arrow through the air presaged another flash, so Xia Luo closed her eyes in preparation.

“I almost got her,” came Lan Jingyi’s indignant voice, “but then one of those monkeys exploded! Are they doing it on purpose to keep us from catching the girl?”

Although his theory would have made sense, Xia Luo had seen and heard the arrows that debunked it. She extended a hand to help him stand since he hadn’t closed his eyes before the next flash went off and was off balance from the afterimages it left.

“Why are they exploding?” he asked, before a golden sword glare caught his attention. “Hey, is that —”

He didn’t get to complete his next question before another monkey launched itself at him and he was reminded to stay silent to lower their aggression.

Gold sword glare. It must be a Jin Clan member. Why would one be here, alone no less?

What the archer didn’t know was that taking out the spirit monkeys wouldn’t diminish their numbers because they were just illusions pushed by the ghost girl. Instead of helping the trio end this Night Hunt, they were only hindering them and putting them in danger.

All the rules of Night Hunt etiquette Xia Gongmin had taught Xia Luo ran in a long ribbon through her mind. Whoever this cultivator was, they clearly had no regard for their fellows.

In a moment of dark inspiration, Xia Luo grabbed Lan Jingyi’s wrist and yanked him onto Yongyao to fly them both into the center of the clearing. Without even a silent apology, she twisted Lan Jingyi’s arm behind his back and made him yell, continuing to tug so his yells carried out into the woods.

“Aaghh! Stop! Stop! What are you doing! Xia Luo!” Lan Jingyi cried, his eyes full of betrayal.

A figure stood out against the moon overhead, hovering on their sword with a bow in hand. Drawn to Lan Jingyi’s cries, monkeys swarmed into the clearing. The figure notched an arrow into the bow. Xia Luo narrowed her eyes, waited for the monkeys to get nearer, then gave Lan Jingyi’s arm a final tug before shoving him away.

Xia Luo shot upwards on Yongyao, her sights set on the hovering figure who didn’t pay her any mind as he fired arrows into the monkeys below. When an arm wrapped around his neck and dragged him down, he was completely unprepared.

The cultivator let out a muffled sound and kicked his feet wildly as his sword fell out from beneath him. Xia Luo kept a tight grip around his neck and guided him to the ground in a controlled tumble, the green light from the monkeys he had shot fading beneath them. When they were only a man’s height from the ground, Xia Luo shoved the cultivator into the dirt with a powerful thrust of her arm.

The moment her toes touched the earth, the monkeys went up in a collective blaze of green, their angry screams turning shrill before they faded into the night. At the outskirts of the clearing, only a handful of monkeys remained, but none of their eyes gleamed green.

A figure on a sword appeared, its robed silhouette familiar to Xia Luo’s eyes.

He must have killed off the ghost girl, she thought.

“Look out!” shouted Lan Jingyi.

Turning on her heel, Xia Luo lunged at the monkey that was coming at her, swiping her sword upwards to block a blow and jamming a fist into the beast’s throat. Its growl turned into a gurgling whimper, the vibrations from the sound pulsing against Xia Luo’s knuckles. The moment it withdrew its arms, Xia Luo two-handed Yongyao’s hilt and drove its blade deep into the creature’s belly, then wrenched the blade upwards between its ribs and continued the draw till the blade caught in its upper jaw.

Xia Luo held her stance, the quivering body of the beast skewered at the tip of her blade, its entrails spilling out into a steaming pile on the earth. The other monkeys that had begun to approach the group were frozen in place, their body language full of trepidation.

Even in the dark of the night, black smoke seeped from the creature’s mutilated face to swirl around Yongyao’s blade. It danced languidly across the blade, gently caressing the gore-coated steel before gradually soaking into the blade and creating a singular throb of internal energy that Xia Luo could feel through the hilt.

Ignoring the pain in her ankle, Xia Luo trapped the monkey’s hands dragging on the ground under her foot and pulled Yongyao from its head. The yao beast’s corpse hit the ground with a thud, its hairy body covering up its own viscera. When Xia Luo looked up, the remaining monkeys had retreated into the forest and accepted their defeat.

“Xia Luo,” said Lan Jingyi from behind her.

She could hear the apprehension in his voice when he called to her, but she only had one thing on her mind. Lowering Yongyao so its tip nearly dragged in the dirt, she strode over to the Jin Clan cultivator and gave him a sharp shove on the chest.

“You could have killed one of us!” she shouted, her voice coming out in a fierce growl that brooked no argument.

Whatever either Lan Sizhui or Lan Jingyi would have said to try to intervene caught in their throats. It was clear that the shock of Xia Luo speaking for the first time was too great for them to moderate the situation.

“I was helping!” the cultivator snapped back. “There were monkeys right on your tail, and I –”

“You messed it up!” Xia Luo snarled.

“Excuse me? Let me guess, you’re going to say that you had it under control,” the cultivator sneered.

“You blinded us,” said Xia Luo, stepping into the cultivator’s space and looking down at him.

The cultivator glared back at her. “So what, I should have let them keep chasing you?”

“Yeah,” she said, “they weren’t the target.”

“You’re kidding, right? If I hadn’t shot that monkey behind you –”

“I would have taken down the ghost controlling them!” Xia Luo shouted, her shoulders raising with her anger.

The cultivator stood his ground despite the fact that he had no idea what she was saying. Instead of asking for clarification, he doubled down.

“I’m sorry, but who even are you? You’re not a Lan,” he said, noting the lack of a cloud motif on her forehead ribbon.

“Doesn’t matter,” said Xia Luo. “The point is –”

This time it was the cultivator who cut her off. “It does matter,” he said, jutting his chin up. “Etiquette states that —”

“Etiquette?” Xia Luo said, her voice full of derisive laughter. “Don’t talk etiquette to me. You barged into a Night Hunt and put everyone in danger! You shot blind and could have —”

“Do you know who I am?” the cultivator said, his voice rising both in pitch and volume. “I don’t miss a shot!”

Xia Luo was about to push the cultivator away from her now that they were practically chest to chest, but Lan Sizhui managed to find his voice just in time to intervene.

“Xia Luo, don’t! This is Jin Ling, the Jin Clan leader,” he said, stepping up to stand beside them. He looked like he wanted to step between them, but there was no opening for him to do so.

This new information trickled through Xia Luo’s mind.

“Sizhui, who even is this guy? Why is he out here with you?” said the cultivator who was apparently the Jin Clan leader.

Everything about him bothered Xia Luo. His face might have been pretty, but all Xia Luo could see was the contemptuous sneer on his lips, the disdainful wrinkle of his nose, and the glint of defiance in his eyes. For the first time in her life, Xia Luo looked down at a boy her age and harbored not a single shred of doubt about herself in comparison to him. Unlike her time around Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi where she strove to prove she was just as much a boy as they were, standing in front of Jin Ling made her chest swell with a masculine sense of self and ego that placed her above him.

Lan Jingyi jumped into the conversation, eager to add to the drama.

“This is Xia Luo,” he said, “he’s Chifeng-zun’s son. He’s a guest disciple at the Cloud Recesses!”

A mix of emotions played across Jin Ling’s face, but the one that lingered the longest before settling on consternation was judgment. No doubt he had heard the news of Nie Mingjue’s bastard son by now and had some thoughts about it.

What right do you have to judge? You’ve never even met him!

With introductions very hastily made on their behalf, the two regarded one another. Unexpectedly, Jin Ling stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Apologize, and I’ll let this all go,” he said.

Xia Luo practically laughed in his face. “For what? You should be apologizing!” she said.

“Xia Luo,” said Lan Sizhui, his tone gentle, “Jin Ling is a clan leader, so –”

“Oh, you’re right. Then he should definitely be the one apologizing since he ought to know better about barging into someone else’s Night Hunt,” she said. From the way her feet were planted firmly on the ground, it was clear she was not about to back down.

“You! You ought to show some respect,” said Jin Ling, his expression turning angry.

By this point, Xia Luo’s mood was turbulent and she was out of patience. The rules of engagement for Night Hunts were clear, end of discussion. If it hadn’t been for Jin Ling barging in, Xia Luo would have killed the ghost girl on the first try and she wouldn’t have an injured ankle. Lan Jingyi, too, wouldn’t be so scuffed up.

Yongyao seemed to pulse in her grip, it’s energy nudging her to take action. Xia Luo scoffed, took three steps back, and raised Yongyao as an invitation to duel.

“Earn it,” she said.

“Xia Luo, you can’t –” Lan Jingyi protested.

“This isn’t the Cloud Recesses,” she said back, her eyes never leaving Jin Ling.

“Jin Ling, just leave it. It’s not worth the trouble. Besides, if you two took the time to actually meet properly, then —” said Lan Sizhui, but he didn’t get to finish before Jin Ling cut him off.

“Fine! You want to go?” Jin Ling said with a sneer as he drew his own sword. “Let’s do it! Loser apologizes.”

Lan Sizhui had to back away quickly as the two threw themselves at one another, their blades clashing between them. Jin Ling moved lithely, his steps light and graceful across the ground as he parried and lunged, his sharp eyes taking in every move that his opponent made. While he stayed upright and tall, Xia Luo channeled her weight down to press against the earth which made her movements slower but far more powerful. With the weight of an ox and the fluid power of a tiger, she was a formidable new opponent for Jin Ling.

Since neither junior had ever gone head to head with someone trained in a style so different from their own, there was a decent amount of probing in their duel to locate the strengths and weaknesses of their technique. Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui could only watch from the sidelines.

“You don’t think they’re going to try to kill one another, do you?” asked Lan Jingyi. “Xia Luo just got released from punishment after attacking someone.”

Lan Sizhui looked worried, but he still put his faith in Xia Luo. “He’s not like that, and he’s not that reckless, either. They’ll fight until one gives in.”

Lan Jingyi did not look comforted. “Sizhui, I don’t mean to be a downer, but neither of those two are known for their willingness to back down.” All he received in return was a wry smile.

Back in the fight, Xia Luo was pushing Jin Ling around the clearing with the weight of her blows. Jin Ling’s sword simply couldn’t compete with the heft of Yongyao so he was forced to dance around her movements in an attempt to avoid the brunt of her advances.

There was no way that Jin Ling was going to accept being smacked around by this nobody. Xia Luo might be Chifeng-zun’s bastard son, but Jin Ling was the legitimate son of Jin Zixuan and was the Lanling Jin Clan leader. He was superior, and he was going to make sure —

Jin Ling didn’t get to finish his thought. A blood-crusted hand closed around his own hand that was gripping Suihua’s hilt and jerked him forward. Before he knew what was happening, his forward momentum was broken by a knee to the stomach that knocked the air out of him.

That’s for knocking me from my sword.

Xia Luo withdrew her knee and slammed Jin Ling flat on his back, sending leaf litter and dirt flying from the impact.

And that’s for spraining my ankle .

She reached down and pulled Suihua from Jin Ling’s grip while he was gasping for air and pointed it at his face. Although Xia Luo had only ever handled her uncle’s saber on rare occasions and Yongyao otherwise, she could tell that whatever sword Jin Ling had was high in spiritual energy. It was a good thing they hadn’t been fighting to kill or she might have been hard-pressed to come against Suihua’s cultivation with Yongyao. Although Xia Luo didn’t know that Suihua had belonged to Jin Zixuan before, she got the feeling that the sword’s high level wasn’t due entirely to Jin Ling’s work with it.

Jin Ling opened his eyes only to find Suihua brandished against him. He glared at Xia Luo, furious that this person would dare take his sword and show him such disrespect.

“What,” he spat, “are you waiting for me to apologize from here?”

Xia Luo curled her lip at him. With a scowl, she stabbed Suihua into the ground beside Jin Ling.

“I don’t need your apology,” she said, and turned back to the boys. “We’re done here.”

The Lan boys were speechless. They looked back and forth between Xia Luo and Jin Ling until Lan Sizhui made up his mind to help Jin Ling up.

“I’m fine,” said Jin Ling, pushing Lan Sizhui’s hand away. He snatched up Suihua and sheathed it, glaring at Xia Luo all the while.

“This is what the Lan Clan takes in as disciples now?” he remarked, his voice dripping with contempt.

“Jin Ling, don’t,” said Lan Sizhui.

Jin Ling scoffed. “Whatever. Just keep him away from me.”

Xia Luo gave a snort. “Or what? You’ll dance for me again?”

Jin Ling looked about ready to throw himself at Xia Luo, but Lan Sizhui stopped him.

“Maybe we should all cool down and try meeting in a more neutral environment next time,” Lan Sizhui said.

“Uh, Sizhui, he’s already walking away,” Lan Jingyi said. Sure enough, Xia Luo was crossing the clearing and was getting ready to step up onto Yongyao.

“Go with him back to town, I’ll catch up with you,” instructed Lan Sizhui.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Jin Ling, “just go with him.”

Lan Jingyi didn’t wait for further instructions before scampering after Xia Luo.

“I’m going back to town with you!” he called after her. All he got in response was a grunt.

Lan Sizhui turned back to Jin Ling who was brushing himself off and looked at him apologetically.

“Xia Luo can be a bit difficult,” he said, knowing full well that nothing he said was going to make Jin Ling less angry or embarrassed by the outcome of the Night Hunt or the subsequent fight.

“Leave it, Sizhui. I’ll catch up with you next time. Hopefully you won’t have to keep that stray around with you,” Jin Ling said. Without another word, he mounted Suihua and flew off.

Lan Sizhui sighed. He was too tired to do anything more to placate Jin Ling. Besides, he had noticed Xia Luo limping a bit and decided that attending to something he could actually impact in the moment was a better use of his time.

Under the pale moonlight of that hot summer’s night, the disemboweled corpse of a yao beast remained as the only testament to the skirmish that had taken place and set two young cultivators at odds with one another.

Chapter Text

Three days had passed since the juniors returned from their Night Hunt. They delivered their report to Lan Wangji, and Xia Luo reported back to Lan Xichen. None of them mentioned anything about meeting Jin Ling during the hunt, and none of them so much as hinted at the fact that Xia Luo was now speaking. Had it not been for the few words Xia Luo spoke to Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi after they had reconvened in the town, they would have thought she had only broken her vow of silence to have it out with Jin Ling. She told them she had been speaking with Lan Xichen in private, but hadn’t been ready to deal with everyone else yet. Out of respect, the boys kept quiet.

That said, it had been a few days since that and Lan Jingyi was fretting. When he brought it up to Lan Sizhui during a break in class, he was relieved to find that his companion felt the same way. As soon as class was over, they told Xia Luo they had some business with Hanguang-jun and couldn’t bring her along. Naturally, she had no objections and was content to make her way to the Library Pavilion on her own.

The boys restrained themselves as they longed to run to the house Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji shared. The summer sun hung heavy over the mountain and bathed everything in an almost white light, making it difficult to see without squinting.

Finally, sweating from the heat of the day and from the mounting anxiety, the boys made it to their destination and knocked on the door. A muffled voice from within reached their ears, but the words were unclear. A minute later Wei Wuxian opened the door and beamed at the juniors.

“Sizhui! Jingyi! What brings you here?” he said, his voice bright. “Ah, come in, let’s get you out of the sun. It’s too hot out!”

The boys didn’t fight him and gratefully stepped into the shade of the small entrance hall.

“Wei-qianbei, is Hanguang-jun here?” asked Lan Sizhui.

“No, he’s not. He went out to speak to some elders or exchange some scrolls at the library,” said Wei Wuxian. “I don’t remember which. Maybe it was both,” he said, shrugging.

“That’s alright, Wei-qianbei. We actually came to speak with you,” said Lan Sizhui.

Wei Wuxian looked both surprised and delighted. “Me? Well,then! What can I do for you?”

“There’s something we wanted to tell you about the Night Hunt,” said Lan Sizhui.

“Didn’t you already give Lan Zhan the full report?”

“We did,” affirmed Lan Sizhui, “but there was something that wasn’t really related to the mission that we left out. Now, we think you should know about it.”

Lan Jingyi jumped in. “We didn’t want to say anything in case it got Xia Luo in trouble! He just finished a one month punishment, and it would have been terrible if this got him punished again,” he said in earnest.

Wei Wuxian raised an eyebrow. “Mm, but you’re telling me now? How would a delay in telling eliminate the chance for punishment?”

“It wouldn’t,” said Lan Sizhui, “but we decided that you should know. That’s more important. Besides, then someone will know his side of the story in case anyone tries to spin it a different way.”

Wei Wuxian was all ears. Thoroughly interested, he leaned in. “Do tell.”

* * * * *

In the central hall of the Cold Room, Lan Xichen flipped through the small stack of correspondences he had let accumulate over the last few days. He had been sleeping poorly — not that that was unusual at this point — and had not had the energy to look into whatever outside matters made it onto his desk. Since he had entered seclusion, Lan Qiren had taken on most of the Clan’s matters, but some items were still directed to him for his consideration. Among the small stack was a letter sealed with a purple lotus stamp.

It was rare for him to receive correspondences from other Clan leaders, but a letter from Jiang Cheng of the Yunmeng Jiang Clan was even more rare. Lan Xichen couldn’t remember the last time he received a personal letter from him.

What could Clan Leader Jiang have to say to me? He wondered.

The letter began without any pretenses of conviviality; the greeting was limited to stating Lan Xichen’s title before launching into what amounted to an angry tirade in which he demanded to know if this was what the Lan Clan had come to. Bewildered, Lan Xichen had no choice but to read the letter in its entirety to get any idea what Jiang Cheng was talking about, since Xia Luo had made no mention of meeting Jin Ling in her report of the Night Hunt.

In the letter, Jiang Cheng claimed that Xia Luo had attacked Jin Ling unprovoked after Jin Ling practically saved her life, and that she had disrespected him and his status as a Clan leader. He demanded that she be expelled from the Cloud Recesses immediately and cast out like the bastard she was.

Lan Xichen sat back to process what he had just read. On the one hand, he knew Jiang Cheng to be a touchy man with a fiery temper that flared if his loved ones — namely, Jin Ling — were ever harmed or made to look bad and that he would be quick to stand in for them and level sometimes harsh and not entirely true accusations. On the other hand, hLan Xichen had seen first hand how Xia Luo attacked a Lan disciple seemingly without provocation, so he was wary to draw an early conclusion. Either way he looked at it, he lacked the necessary facts to make up his mind in favor of either party.

Without a way to make any clarifications in this state, he sent a summons to bring Xia Luo to him.

Half an incense time later, Xia Luo bowed before Lan Xichen.

“Xia Luo,” said Lan Xichen, “I was wondering if there was anything else that took place during the Night Hunt other than what you reported.”

Xia Luo looked nonplussed by his inquiry and responded evenly. “I have nothing to add.”

Lan Xichen furrowed his brows. He knew that Xia Luo was answering the question he asked and was ignoring the implication the question insinuated.

“Aside from mission related details, was there anything else? Did you happen to run into anyone?” he asked.

Xia Luo tilted her head up to look him in the eyes. Lan Xichen couldn’t be sure if she was playing off his question as an accusation or if she was simply weighing her response.

“No one I knew previously,” she responded.

Lan Xichen sighed. Xia Luo had been difficult to speak with ever since she first started speaking with him, so he didn’t hold these answers against her. It was simply her way.

“I received a letter from Clan Leader Jiang regarding an altercation between you and Jin Ling,” he said, holding up the letter. The shadow of a smile flickered across Xia Luo’s face.

“Ah. Yes, we met. I should have —”

Xia Luo didn’t get to finish her sentence before she was interrupted by a knock on the main door from outside.

“Zewu-jun, Clan Leader Jiang is here to see you. He says it’s important,” called the voice of the Lan who came to deliver the message. “He’s headed over here now, Zewu-jun.”

Lan Xichen flicked his gaze back to Xia Luo who only lifted her shoulders in the barest shrug.

“I should have warned you,” she concluded.

Outside the door, the messenger stepped aside apologetically as Lan Xichen descended the stairs from the Cold Room to meet the uninvited guest. Part of Lan Xichen wanted to find the situation comical, but seeing as he didn’t know exactly what role Xia Luo had played in eliciting this impromptu visit, he didn’t dare laugh just yet.

A man in purple and black swept up then, his braids and bun looking remarkably similar to the way Xia Luo wore her own hair. Only their bangs were different, as was the lack of a head piece around Xia Luo’s bun. Aside from that, one might have thought that Xia Shunchao had modeled Xia Luo’s hairstyle off of his.

“Clan Leader Jiang,” said Lan Xichen, cupping his hands. “What brings you to the Cloud Recesses?”

Jiang Cheng wasted no time in getting to the heart of his grievances. After only a cursory bow in greeting, he began. “Clan Leader Lan, it would appear your clan has loosened its standards and is now accepting strays. I didn’t realize it was in the Lans’ purview to take in bastards and offer them training when the training they receive at home is less than adequate.”

Lan Xichen sighed inwardly. It was an unfortunate characteristic of Jiang Cheng to insult anyone and everyone indiscriminately when he was angry. He might have once taken fault with Wei Wuxian’s lack of care for how he was viewed in the public eye, but it really was a case of the pot calling the kettle black these days.

“I must presume you are speaking about the matter which your letter described,” he said, folding his hands into his sleeves. “I had only just finished reading the letter and had yet to discuss the matter with —” he said, but didn’t get to finish.

“This isn’t a matter that necessitates discussion, Zewu-jun,” Jiang Cheng interrupted. His eyes flashed as he picked up on a slight movement from the doorway of the Cold Room. From it stepped Xia Luo, her white Lan robes and forehead ribbon making her look every bit the part of a Lan disciple.

“Ah, perfect,” he said, a deep sneer marking his face. “Whistle and a dog will surely come.” He pointed at Xia Luo, but his attention was on Lan Xichen. “I want this bastard expelled from the Cloud Recesses on account of his deplorable conduct, and I demand he go to Golden Carp Tower immediately and beg Clan Leader Jin’s forgiveness.”

Lan Xichen’s brow twitched. Receiving demands in a letter from one Clan leader to another was one thing, but having a Clan leader march into another’s territory and make demands was another.

“Xia Luo, come here,” he beckoned, his voice gentle. “Clan Leader Jiang,” he said as Xia Luo came to stand beside him with a bow, “Xia Luo is a guest disciple of the Lan Clan and is under our jurisdiction for training. Furthermore, I have taken on Xia Luo as my disciple during his time at the Cloud Recesses. Until such time as he has completed his training here, Xia Luo cannot leave the Cloud Recesses except for Night Hunts under the direction of the Lan elders. I am sure you are aware of this.”

It was clear from his words that Lan Xichen would not be permitting Jiang Cheng to bully Xia Luo into traveling all the way to Golden Carp Tower to make an apology to Jin Ling.

A look of displeasure crossed Jiang Cheng’s face. “His apology can wait, but mark my words,” he said, his tone heavy with meaning, “the day he leaves this place is the day he crawls to Golden Carp Tower and prostrates before Jin Ling for forgiveness. Until then, I don’t want him interacting with my nephew. If he comes in contact with Jin Ling during a Night Hunt, then he had better lower himself to the position he belongs and show Jin Ling the deference he is owed.”

Xia Luo had some thoughts about this, but Lan Xichen spoke enough for the both of them.

“Where is Jin Ling, if I may inquire?” he asked evenly.

“He has more important matters to attend to as a Clan leader,” said Jiang Cheng. Everything about him looked sour.

Xia Luo kept her face calm, but her thoughts went their own way. I wonder what matters you set aside to come here on his behalf, then. Whatever Jiang Cheng’s hopes for this encounter had been, he certainly would not have been pleased to learn about the conclusions Xia Luo had drawn. To her, his visit and attitude justified what she had pieced together about Jin Ling from their first meeting and only solidified her opinion of him as a whiny, self-interested, entitled individual. Now she had the extra ammunition of knowing that he hid behind his uncle’s robes on top of it. The more she learned about Jin Ling, the less she liked him, and the more she saw of Jiang Cheng, the less she liked Jin Ling, too. They were turning out to be too similar in her eyes.

“You’ve taken on Nie Mingjue’s bastard as your disciple? I hardly think that’s called for,” said Jiang Cheng, changing the direction of the discussion. “Any fraternal love you may have had for Nie Mingjue surely wouldn’t extend to a bastard who’s been hidden for fifteen years. It’s best you don’t waste your time on someone with poor breeding and even worse upbringing.” His words were scathing, and they held many facets.

Angry eyes met Xia Luo’s and stared her down. Inside those eyes, she saw something that melded with the anger yet fought to stay distinct. Was it loss? Whatever it was, it was enough for Xia Luo to know that this man held a deep-seated weakness, and knowing this made her unafraid. She stood without flinching under his scrutiny, her head only slightly lowered as a sign of respect. It wouldn’t do for her to give Jiang Cheng another reason to lambast her in front of Lan Xichen.

Jiang Cheng snorted and looked away. “You’re just as sentimental as your brother,” he said to Lan Xichen. Xia Luo didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, and when she glanced sideways at Lan Xichen standing beside her, he gave nothing away.

“You can’t help bad breeding, Zewu-jun,” Jiang Cheng continued. “If you’re not careful, this one will end up dying even younger than his father.”

With that, Jiang Cheng turned on his heel and left in a swirl of purple robes. He didn’t even wait for the Lans who were supposed to escort him out to take the lead but stormed off on his own instead.

Both Xia Luo and Lan Xichen watched his retreating back, each one caught up in their own thoughts. It was Lan Xichen who broke the silence some minutes later.

“Xia Luo, don’t take Clan Leader Jiang’s words to heart,” he said. “He is ill-tempered and uses his words as a weapon, especially in defense of his loved ones. Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not,” said Xia Luo.

Lan Xichen looked down at the top of her head and nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “You truly have an indomitable spirit,” he remarked. He didn’t say anything about the insults Jiang Cheng had directed at her and insinuated about Nie Mingjue. He didn’t mention either of their bad tempers

“Xia Luo, come inside and tell me what happened between you and Jin Ling. Let us discuss this over a cup of tea. I want to hear the story in your own words,” he said. “However, Clan Leader Jiang’s presence has a tendency to rile one’s nerves. Let us meditate first in order to clear our minds and ground our emotions.”

Xia Luo’s ears pricked at what sounded like a condemnation of Jiang Cheng’s difficult temperament, but she kept her expression even as she followed Lan Xichen into the Cold Room.

Once inside, the two took their usual places on floor mats across from one another. Mentor and disciple faced one another with steadying breaths, their thoughts hidden behind the masks they wore. Even though they had spent much time together over the last month, there was still an ocean of distance between them. Xia Luo was a guest disciple and closed off by nature — or at least that was what Lan Xichen had to assume at the moment — and Lan Xichen was an aggrieved Clan leader. Naturally, there was much in the way of them opening up to one another, and Lan Xichen was not keen on rushing Xia Luo into anything.

Just as they had practiced, Lan Xichen slowed his breathing and Xia Luo matched her breathing to his. This method of pair meditation was intended to create a mutually meditative space in order to connect on a deeper level. The two had been practicing the technique almost since the start of Xia Luo’s punishment, and they had made great strides in how close they were getting to creating a spiritual space to share. Perhaps it was due to their common thoughts and emotions surrounding Jiang Cheng’s arrival and the comments he had made that caused something to change. Unlike the previous sessions, it didn’t take long at all for their breathing to match and for both of them to fall into a meditative state.

As Xia Luo’s conscious thoughts slipped away and were overtaken by unconscious flutterings of the mind, so too did Lan Xichen glide into a comfortable space where all he could hear was the perfectly overlapped sound of his breath moving in time with Xia Luo’s. For a while, everything was peaceful and still.

From somewhere in Xia Luo’s emptied mindscape there came a flicker of color, of something darting past before disappearing again. Again this happened, but Xia Luo brushed it aside like she would other intrusive thoughts. Only this time, the thought did not go.

As would occasionally happen, a thought would come that demanded attention. When this happened, the common guidance was to admit the thought under the expectation that it would appear as an enlightening moment regarding something that had been weighing on one’s mind. Given the number of heavy thoughts Xia Luo carried with her, she allowed her attention to converge on this one point of movement. The moment her attention closed in on the flickering thought she was sent plummeting into a cyclone of red and gray clouds that swirled and choked up her lungs.

Fog layered itself up to her knees, thick like sea foam after a storm. No matter how hard she tried, she could hardly see more than a stone’s throw in any direction, and when she called out her voice was swallowed by the fog.

Underfoot, the ground rumbled faintly, the vibrations it created making the fog appear to pulse, the soft waver emitting a susurrus like sand blowing over itself.

Xia Luo cast about her for any discernible figure, anything to tell her where she was or what she could expect next. There was nothing but the heavy mass of shifting fog and the inkling that some profound shift was about to take place.

This isn’t how a meditation is supposed to go , she thought. When she tried to pull herself from it, however, she felt mired in the fog and unable to lift herself out.

Wary from her experiences with nightmares and how unpredictable they were, Xia Luo decided that waiting around would only prolong the amount of time her mind was stuck in this state of limbo. If she moved about, then perhaps she could spur something into action that would wake her up.

The more she wandered, however, the more a sense of foreboding rose like swamp water after  rain. She felt the swill rise to her calves and cling to her robes, and though she trudged onward, she made no progress.

Foreboding turned to dread, then dread took the sour turn into resentment. The longer she wandered, the deeper it dug its claws in and the tighter the fog wrapped itself around her. The fog tugged at her robes, urging her to follow its lead, to give in to its guidance without a struggle. It whispered to her with each step she took, go on, go on, go on.

The fog led her along, its rustling voice grating against the resentment that had hooked its claws into her bones. Xia Luo stumbled into a clearing surrounded on three sides by a low ridgeline covered in trees. Her ankle throbbed dully — the one she had injured during the previous Night Hunt — and the pain made her temper flare.

A warm breeze swept over the ground and pushed the fog away, taking with it its incessant murmuring. Replacing it was a heat that started behind Xia Luo’s eyes and spread through every blood vessel. Resentment roared in her chest and exploded through her body, its force so violent it made Xia Luo choke. Underneath it, still held back by Xia Luo’s will to maintain control, was a rage that stamped the ground in protest against its fetters.

Xia Luo strained against the combined efforts of Resentment and Rage. With both of them pushing up at the back of her throat, Xia Luo looked up and gasped for air, hoping to cool the burning sensation that had overtaken her.

Kneeling on the ground, propped up on its sword, was a lone figure.

Resentment purred.

Jin Ling looked up at her, his expression dripping with contempt.

Rage bellowed.

* * * * *

Wei Wuxian had stayed behind after Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi had told him what had transpired between Xia Luo and Jin Ling, deciding to wait things out and see what happened. At first he had wanted to see Jiang Cheng, but Lan Wangji had held him back on account of not wanting to see or hear Jiang Cheng, or for Wei Wuxian to be around him.

In the end, Wei Wuxian contented himself with knowing that they would get word from Lan Xichen about the meeting whenever it happened, so there was no need to feel too left out. Besides, there was no telling when Jiang Cheng would actually arrive, so it wouldn’t do for him to hang around the Cold Room like a lost bunny.

He had been reclining with one leg propped up on the other, his foot bouncing in the air when a strange feeling made the tips of his fingers prickle. He frowned and glanced over to where Lan Wangji was seated at his desk studying. Brushing it off, Wei Wuxian turned back to stare at the ceiling, his thoughts lingering vaguely on Jiang Cheng and how stuffy he was. Before he could entertain them further, the feeling returned, this time more pronounced. He definitely sensed something. He continued to lay back, but when the feeling came a third time like the lapping of a wave upon the shore, he sat up. Lan Wangji immediately turned his attention to him.

“Lan Zhan, do you feel that?” he asked.

Lan Wangji sat still and let his senses spread out. He shook his head after a minute.

“Hm. There’s something off,” Wei Wuxian said, crossing his legs to sit up straighter. The feeling came again and this time persisted, no longer retreating after suddenly arriving.

“Lan Zhan, there’s something in the Cloud Recesses,” he said.

Keen to believe his husband but also aware of the security measures in place in the Cloud Recesses, Lan Wangji tried one more time to feel what Wei Wuxian was speaking of. Still, he felt nothing.

“Wei Ying, there is nothing here. We would know if there was an intruder,” he said.

“No,” protested Wei Wuxian as he bit his lip, “this doesn’t feel like an intruder. It feels like… it feels like resentment,” he said.

If anyone was an expert in the particularities of resentment, it was Wei Wuxian. Having once been the infamous Yiling Patriarch that commanded armies of the dead by manipulating their resentment, he had developed a strong attunement for the emotion and its various manifestations.

Lan Wangji regarded his husband with a careful eye. “Where is it coming from?”

Wei Wuxian stood up, his expression difficult to read. “I’m not certain, but I do have an idea,” he said.

* * * * *

All had been going well for Lan Xichen in his meditation until he felt unbidden thoughts begin to prod at the corners of his mind. Just like with Xia Luo, none of his usual strategies for dealing with an unstable state of mind worked to smooth things out, and he eventually found himself face down in the dirt, his vision flooded red.

Inside of him a tempestuous and vile rage curdled his blood and set his very bones on fire. His blood roiled and burned, its thunderous pounding filling his ears, the scalding taste of its iron forcing itself up from his throat.

Lan Xichen was bewildered. When had he fallen to the ground like this? When had he devolved into such a state?

Through the pounding blood in his ears he could make out the sound of someone screaming his name. No, not his name. Nie Mingjue’s name.

Cries of “Da-ge” assailed him from one side, but instead of turning to look at the person crying out to him, he looked the other way and lifted his head. Vomiting up a mouthful of blood, Lan Xichen found a brief moment of clarity despite the infernal pain he felt tearing through his meridians and broiling his qi. When he looked up, he saw not the distraught eyes of Nie Huaisang, but the hard, calculating eyes of Jin Guangyao staring down at him.

* * * * *

“What’s wrong with them?” demanded Lan Wangji as he shook his brother’s shoulders.

He had followed Wei Wuxian to the Cold Room as they tracked down the trail of resentment Wei Wuxian had picked up on only to be met with both Lan Xichen and Xia Luo in an almost comatose state. Both were still seated as if in meditation, but the cold sweat rolling down their brows was enough to show that they were anywhere but in a peaceful state of mind.

Wei Wuxian reached out and touched Xia Luo, his expression immediately changing to one of wonder.

“Wei Ying?”

Wei Wuxian shook his head. “I’ve never felt so much resentment come off of someone still alive, let alone someone so young. Xia Luo is the source of what I was sensing.”

Lan Wangji got back to shaking his brother, but Wei Wuxian stopped him.

“You won’t be able to wake him like that,” he said, staying Lan Wangji’s anxious hand. “It looks like his state is connected to Xia Luo’s, and Xia Luo’s is being fueled by resentment. What could Jiang Cheng have said to make him this upset?”

Lan Wangji did not laugh at the joke. “How do we wake them?” he asked.

Wei Wuxian nodded and became serious. “I’m not sure what practice they were doing, but from the way they’re seated across from one another like this, it looks like it was supposed to be a pair meditation. If that’s the case, then it makes sense that such a strong bout of resentment in Xia Luo would affect Lan Xichen. If we wake Xia Luo, then Lan Xichen should wake as well.”

Without a word, Lan Wangji pulled the guqin from his back and prepared to pluck a note, but Wei Wuxian once again stopped him.

“I don’t think that will be enough,” he said. “Let me handle this one.”

Although Lan Wangji was nervous for his brother, he trusted Wei Wuxian in matters of resentment. He stepped back and watched his husband, ready to step in if he needed him.

Wei Wuxian didn’t waste another breath before pulling a talisman from his sleeve and setting it in front of Xia Luo. Then he pulled Chenqing from his belt and brought it to his lips.

Of all the times he had drawn Chenqing to manipulate resentment, he had never done it with a living person as his target. There were the resentful corpses of the unnamed dead and the fierce corpses of Wen Ning and Nie Mingjue, but never the resentful spirit of a living person. Whatever people said about him, he was not a demonic cultivator. By proper definitions, it was Xue Yang who had been the real demonic cultivator while he himself was merely a ghostly cultivator. One dealt with the souls of the living while the other dealt with the souls of the dead. Only one was truly evil, and it wasn’t the path Wei Wuxian practiced.

After only a moment’s hesitation, he played a few notes on Chenqing. Whatever he thought about his cultivation path, he would have to accept that sometimes exceptions needed to be made. Looking at the youth in front of him, it was obvious that this was one of those times.

The talisman on the ground rustled as though a breeze had come by. Its corners fluttered before the whole paper was taken up on the notes of Wei Wuxian’s flute to circle around Xia Luo’s head. As the song continued, each note coaxing Xia Luo’s spirit to separate itself from the resentment it held, Wei Wuxian could see the strain of the conflicting forces on Xia Luo’s soul take effect on her body.

* * * * *

Jin Ling glared at Xia Luo, his eyes full of venom. Had Xia Luo been in control of her mental state she would have been able to question the sudden appearance of Jin Ling and their reappearance in the clearing where they first met. But she was not in control, nor did she have the capacity to distinguish what was real from what was an illusion.

The part of her that longed to stride forward and tear into Jin Ling terrified the part of her that desperately sought any foothold with which to regain control. Perhaps it was this very fear of losing control that manifested this nightmare in the first place. Ever since the appearance of that formless figure from her first Night Hunt with the boys and her senseless attack on the Lan disciple, Xia Luo had been constantly afraid that she would lose control of herself. She had no answers as to what was causing her unstable emotions, so she could only assume it was her own fault.

It didn’t matter how afraid she was. There was no room in her warped state of mind for reasoning or logic to come to her defense; there was only a ceaseless flood of resentment.

Jin Ling spat on the ground in front of him and spoke in a taunting voice. “You’re weak, hiding behind your mask. Take it off and face me; then we’ll know who the stronger one is.”

Xia Luo responded by launching herself at the already battered Jin Ling. They exchanged a few blows before she caught him by the hair and slammed him into the rocky wall of the ridge she had backed him towards. Jin Ling slid down the wall and then rolled to get away, his expression suddenly losing all of its spite and welling up with desperation. A fire lit within Xia Luo’s bones.

“No, please! Xia Luo, I didn't mean it!” cried Jin Ling as he scooted backwards over the ground. The change from his prior demeanor was shockingly different, but there was no place in Xia Luo’s mind left to notice it. Whatever had shaped this mental space had completely overridden her ability to discern reality or to act with discretion.

Jin Ling continued to beg, his voice coming out in a high pitched whine that shook with terror. Stalking forward without remorse, Xia Luo stomped on Jin Ling’s foot to trap it against the ground, pinning him where he was and leaving him no real hope for escape. Suihua had long since been knocked from his hands and lay out of reach, leaving him defenseless against Yongyao.

“Xia Luo, please,” he begged, “please don’t —”

Yongyao pierced Jin Ling’s chest. Cold steel came out through his back, the sensation both shocking and nauseating at the same time. Slowly, by mere degrees, Xia Luo pulled Yongyao back through Jin Ling’s body until it came free, the gash it left immediately blooming red over his golden tunic.

A look of horror came over his face as he touched his hand to his bleeding chest and blood burbled up in his throat. He turned two mournful eyes up to Xia Luo, the words catching in his mouth as blood trickled from between his lips.

Although Xia Luo watched him without emotion, her body was tearing itself up from the inside. While Jin Ling choked in a pool of his own blood, Xia Luo felt what she could only describe as being simultaneously shredded and boiled alive. No matter the pain, though, she showed nothing on the outside and only stolidly stood there until Jin Ling’s last breath got caught in the bloody foam and spittle on his lips.

Searing poison coursed through Xia Luo’s veins upon Jin Ling’s final breath and clawed its way to her eyes, filling them with blood. As if a rope holding her conscious mind captive had snapped under the poison’s mad claws, Xia Luo felt the first glimmer of sense return to her. 

Stumbling backwards with her hands thrown over her eyes, Xia Luo wailed as her mind began to process what was happening, but it was still too slow. She wiped desperately at her eyes to clear them and saw on the ground some distance away from her Jin Ling’s lifeless body. She stared at the body, not fully comprehending what had taken place. Perhaps if her body wasn’t still burning she might have felt the icy twinge of dread that bloomed in her gut.

Morbid curiosity and a mind sluggish from pain drew Xia Luo one step towards the crumpled body. Why were she and Jin Ling here? She took another step. Where were they, anyway? Another step. Who could have done this to Jin Ling?

One of the corpse’s bloody fingers twitched. 

Xia Luo took another step closer, pain lancing through her body. The pain she was experiencing should have had her writhing on the ground in agony, but it was as if the dullness of her mind kept even her body from responding properly.

The corpse’s foot twitched imperceptibly.

Xia Luo closed the distance between them and stood over the corpse, uncomprehending eyes gazing at the grisly seen before her.

“Jin Ling —”

The corpse threw itself at Xia Luo, moving faster than lightning seeking the ground. A scream rose up but was cut off by Jin Ling’s hand as it curled around her throat ready to crush her windpipe. His face was contorted into something fiendish; vindictive eyes flashed with murderous intent and lips drew back into the malicious grin of a man-eating tiger.

* * * * *

Xia Luo came to with a gasp that sounded like the rusty wail of a walking corpse and threw herself backwards along the floor to get away from the crushing hand around her throat. The scene that had just taken place flashed through her mind in the blink of an eye while the sensation of her blood and bones on fire had yet to disperse completely.

Her chest heaving for breath, she looked around her in bewilderment, utterly at a loss as to where she was or how she had gotten there. Before she even laid eyes on Wei Wuxian she began speaking in a hurried, panicked voice.

“I wouldn’t, I would never… I wouldn’t do that, I wouldn’t… he’s not, I didn’t… it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real.” Xia Luo hugged her knees and squeezed her eyes shut against the pain that still coursed through her, her terror and horror at the vision of her standing over a dying Jin Ling reducing her to a nonsensical mess.

“Xia Luo,” said Wei Wuxian. “Xia Luo, it’s me. It’s Wei Wuxian. I’m here with Hanguang-jun and Zewu-jun. You’re safe here,” he said, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

A small yelp escaped Xia Luo as she smacked his hand away, her vision finally coming into focus and offering her the first sign that she was back to reality. She looked around her, but there was no dead body, no bleeding Jin Ling. Across the room was Lan Wangji who was comforting his brother who looked distraught and deeply shaken.

Lan Wangji took his older brother into an embrace after Lan Xichen said something to him, his expression grave yet filled with a profound love and tenderness as he held his brother. From over Lan Wangji’s shoulder, Lan Xichen saw Xia Luo flinching away from Wei Wuxian, her face screwed up with fear and anxiety. For the first time, Lan Xichen saw Xia Luo for what she really was; a scared, lonely, misunderstood child who didn’t know how to connect emotionally with others. He realized, too, that the role he would have to play in his martial nephew’s life was far greater than he had ever imagined it could be, and that if he wanted to help Xia Luo, he would have to address his own grief and loneliness first.

“It’s okay, Xia Luo, no one is going to hurt you,” Wei Wuxian reassured her, his hand outstretched as if he were trying to coax a stray cat to him. “Let me help you, alright?”

Xia Luo could feel tears welling up from the maelstrom of emotions and sensations coursing through her, and it was with tear filled eyes that she looked at Wei Wuxian.

“There you go, take some deep breaths,” he said, his hand finally landing on her shoulder. Resentment still swirled around her like a black mist that only he could see, but the volatility of her spiritual energy was something any of the elders in the room could have felt. Alarmed, Wei Wuxian reached up to press his palm against her forehead and took one of her wrists in his other hand. There was no doubt in his mind about what he was feeling.

Xia Luo gently pulled away from his touch, her expression ashen as she re-lived the events of the nightmare. How had she lost control of her own mindspace so completely that she had been pulled from her meditation and thrown into a nightmare? Not only that, but no matter how much she disliked Jin Ling, she had never thought of killing him. He was just an annoying boy, but not one who deserved to die.

Wei Wuxian watched Xia Luo as these thoughts went through her head, but he couldn’t read anything on her face besides confusion and fear.

He has no idea what caused this, he thought to himself. With a quick glance behind him to see how Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen were doing, he turned back to Xia Luo.

“Xia Luo,” he said, his voice gentle, “what do you know about qi deviation?”

* * * * *

“Lan Zhan, there’s no way he could be deviating this early,” said Wei Wuxian as he paced around their shared room. “It just doesn’t make sense! He doesn’t have a saber, which means he’s not being harmed by the Nie Clan’s saber techniques. Even then, it’s the secret techniques held by the Clan leaders that cause the most harm, and there’s no way he would know those; they died out with Nie Mingjue.”

Lan Wangji listened to Wei Wuxian, but his own thoughts lingered on his brother and what he had told him.

Wei Wuxian continued. “Didn’t you think it was weird that he doesn’t have a saber, Lan Zhan? Is there any way that Chifeng-zun would have left his son anything but a saber? He was always so insistent that Nie Huaisang learn saber no matter what, so I can’t imagine he would gift him a sword instead.”

“Maybe the sword is not from Chifeng-zun,” said Lan Wangji, pulling his attention back to focus on what Wei Wuxian was saying.

“Mm, that could be,” said Wei Wuxian, waggling his finger in thought. “Maybe it’s from Nie Huaisang. I mean, he was adamant about not learning the saber, and given what we saw him do to bring about the events at the Guanyin temple, I wouldn’t be surprised if he put off learning saber on purpose. In fact, I’m quite certain it was a calculated decision.” Wei Wuxian paused in his pacing for a moment, then continued.

“It has to be from the Unclean Realm, though. I only held the sword once, but it’s definitely a fine blade and richly engraved. That, and it’s almost as heavy as a saber would be,” he said. “Could it be that Nie Huaisang created this strange sword for his nephew on behalf of his older brother?”

“You were friends. You could ask,” Lan Wangji suggested.

“Haha! Yeah, we were friends some thirteen years ago,” said Wei Wuxian. “Who knows where we stand now, especially now that he’s Chief Cultivator.”

“Mn.”

“That said, I do think it would be worthwhile to pay him a visit. If we can’t gather much from Xia Luo, then Nie Huaisang would be the next person to ask,” said Wei Wuxian.

“What about his uncle,” said Lan Wangji.

“I don’t know if we should go to him just yet,” said Wei Wuxian. “Xia Luo has clearly gone through something big to cause this kind of resentment, and given that he never really left home, we have to assume it was something at home that affected him so badly.”

“You are certain he was deviating?” Lan Wangji said. 

Wei Wuxian nodded emphatically. “I think it was a serious qi disruption; his qi was going wild, but he was immobile and wasn’t bleeding from his apertures, so it wasn’t a proper deviation. It’s a good thing we got to him when we did, though.” Wei Wuxian huffed in frustration. “It just doesn’t make sense that it would start so young,” he said, his index finger pushed against his lips as he paced around deep in thought.

“It’s just not right,” he muttered. “There’s no logical explanation for him to be deviating. Are we sure we buried Jin Guangyao in that temple and that he’s not still pulling strings?” he asked, only half joking. He had sealed Jin Guangyao with Nie Mingjue in the Guanyin temple himself, after all. He let out a sigh.

“Could Jin Guangyao have known about Chifeng-zun’s bastard and set up a plan to take the kid out so he could wipe out his line?” he mused. It sounded a bit paranoid, and he was only half serious, but it also wasn’t completely out of the question. Jin Guangyao had been a mastermind driven by ambition who had developed a deep fear and hatred for Nie Mingjue; it wasn’t out of the question for him to have sent out feelers into his personal life to root out any possible secrets Nie Mingjue might have tried to keep. To that end, one had to wonder why Nie Mingjue had kept the existence of his one and only son, bastard or not, a secret.

Wei Wuxian shook his head and lamented. “Lan Zhan, I think I put the fear of death into Xia Luo. The look on his face when I asked him if he knew what qi deviation was proved that he did, and I think he’s aware that he’s in danger of suffering the same kind of death as his father.”

“You should not have asked him that,” said Lan Wangji.

“Aiya, I know,” Wei Wuxian said. “I just don’t know what he knows. We don’t know anything about him, Lan Zhan. We can’t help him like this.”

“Mn. You are right,” Lan Wangji said.

* * * * *

“I know exactly what it’s like,” said Lan Xichen. He, Lan Wangji, and Wei Wuxian were seated in a private room in the Cold Room. Cups of hot tea sat on the table between them. Lan Xichen was the first to pick up a cup, but he didn’t drink from it. Instead, he held it in his hands to bring some warmth to his cold fingers.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had come back to see him after they had finished their conversation and given him time to bathe and compose himself. Xia Luo had been directed to go wash in the cold spring and return to her room where Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi would seek her out.

Lan Wangji regarded his brother intently, the words Lan Xichen had said to him when he had come out of his stupor ringing in hiss ears.

The barest sigh passed through Lan Xichen’s lips. “It is the flaming ring of the sun during an eclipse,” he said, his voice full of the memory of the searing pain. “It burns through your very marrow leaving only blackness in its wake, but all you can see is the red of blood behind your eyes. Red blood, red rage, red desperation. And then, after you’ve suffered unthinkable pain for what feels like an eternity, the eclipse ends and the sun flares. Nothing is left.”

The room sat in silence. Wei Wuxian recalled the torment he suffered when he was thrown into the Burial Mounds and how death would have been a mercy. Lan Wangji stoically remembered the agony of the lashes he received as punishment for defending his loved one. Lan Xichen looked down, tears silently rolling off his cheeks to fall into his teacup. To think that Nie Mingjue’s final moments had been so calamitous and excruciating, and that Jin Guangyao had stood aside and watched. It was too much.

“Huan-gege,” said Wei Wuxian, “there will be time for mourning, but right now, your martial nephew isn’t just showing signs of potential qi deviation, he is experiencing serious qi disruptions. I was able to pull him out, but it’s obvious this won’t be the last time it happens. I’m worried that if it happens when someone isn’t around to help him, it could go really badly for him.”

Lan Xichen delicately wiped his tears away with a napkin from his sleeve and inhaled. “How could it have started already?” he asked.

Wei Wuxian filled him in on what he and Lan Wangji had discussed, ending by saying that he was most concerned by the level of resentment he felt coming from Xia Luo.

“We don’t know anything about the kid,” he said, shaking his head. “This was the first time I heard him speak, and it was just some terrified babbling about whatever he saw in his nightmare.”

“Do you think that my nightmare is connected to Xia Luo’s?” Lan Xichen asked.

Lan Wangji shifted slightly in his chair but remained silent.

“I do,” said Wei Wuxian. “If his resentment was strong enough to cause a meditative nightmare — or whatever that was — and the two of you were doing a connected meditation, then I’d say it’s almost certain your mental space was affected by his.”

“We need to know what kind of space it was,” said Lan Wangji.

Lan Xichen frowned. “What do you mean?”

Answering for him, Wei Wuxian said, “He’s right. It wasn’t a normal meditative space. If it was, neither of you would have seen or experienced full-blown nightmares.” Wei Wuxian made an offhand gesture. “I don’t even know what to call it besides a nightmare given the detail you were able to see and feel; that doesn't usually happen in meditations.”

“Neither does seeing through someone else’s eyes,” said Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian hummed in response. “Yes, it’s extremely interesting that you saw Nie Mingjue’s death play out through his own eyes when you weren’t even there when it happened. There’s too much going on that doesn’t fit what we know about meditation or qi deviation.”

“Qi deviation does cause hallucinations,” said Lan Xichen, thumbing his teacup.

“True, but those only happen when you’re awake. From what’s been documented, we can understand that Nie Mingjue hallucinated and acted upon those hallucinations because he had been awake when he started to deviate. If someone is in meditation, they tend not to hallucinate, nor have we gotten many reports of people experiencing nightmares. The pain is normal, but not the visions,” said Wei Wuxian.

“So then, what do you think is going on, exactly?” asked Lan Xichen.

“I don’t know yet,” Wei Wuxian said. “Like I mentioned earlier, we don’t know anything about this kid. We thought that giving him space would be good for him, but now it looks like it’s done him a disservice.”

Lan Xichen looked exhausted. “What do we do?”

“We watch him,” said Wei Wuxian. “We get him to talk. If not to us, then to Sizhui and Jingyi. You need to get him to trust you, and we also need to get him to deviate again.”

Lan Xichen snapped his head up to look at him. “What?”

“Wei Ying is right,” said Lan Wangji. “We need to observe him when it happens.”

Wei Wuxian nodded. “Exactly. We need to see what happens before, during, and after.”

“You can’t just experiment on him,” said Lan Xichen, aghast.

“Huan-gege, what is the alternative?” asked Wei Wuxian. “We can’t just wait for it to happen. If we can control the situation, we can narrow down some variables and get better answers, and Xia Luo will be safer that way, too.”

Lan Xichen wanted to protest, but the guilt of Nie Mingjue’s death weighed heavy on his heart and prevented the words from forming. If only he had seen through Jin Guangyao. If only he had believed Nie Mingjue.

He nodded his head slowly. “Alright. Tell me what you have in mind.”

Chapter Text

Xia Luo gritted her teeth against the shock of the frigid water as it washed around her ankles, then her knees, and finally her hips. The difference in temperature between the water and the summer day was great, but it was mild in comparison to what felt like the smoldering coal of her body entering the frigid lake. Xia Luo could have sworn she heard the hiss of steam rising around her as she submerged herself up to her neck.

It felt like there wasn’t anywhere safe anymore. Sleep was filled with nightmares, meditation was now overtaken by horrible visions, and waking hours were littered with experiences and encounters that constantly reminded Xia Luo of all the things she wanted to forget. She didn’t want to think about her mother, or Lan Xichen’s loss, or her own involuntary involvement in any of what was going on. There was no respite.

The headache that had been building during her meditation had peaked right when Wei Wuxian had pulled her out, but it certainly hadn’t passed.

If this spring can speed up the healing process for wounds and injuries, maybe it can help whatever is wrong with my head. It needs all the help it can get, she thought bitterly.

Xia Luo reached up and pulled the ribbon securing her bun to let her hair fall loose around her. Whatever bit of length her mother had cut off before had since grown back, which meant that her hair reached the base of her tailbone when she was standing. It might have been a bit too long, but after seeing Jin Ling’s hair and how long he kept it, it was probably fine. Then again, why would Xia Luo ever take Jin Ling as an example for how something ought to be?

She moved about the shallows to find a submerged rock to rest on, then cupped her hands and brought the sparkling spring water to her face. Even from a few inches away, she could feel the coolness coming off of the water to brush against her cheeks. When she opened her eyes after washing her face, a gentle cough from the edge of the water sent her heart flying into her throat.

Xia Luo shot up, ready to fight off whatever threat had presented itself. It took a moment for her to realize that standing up had exposed her all the way down to her hips. Luckily, she had taken her hair down earlier, and at this moment it was acting as a narrow cover over each breast so nothing was directly visible.

“I’m sorry if I startled you,” said Lan Sizhui, his smile soft as he regarded her. Seeing her reaction, his expression changed to one of great sympathy and he turned so he wasn’t facing her directly.

“I really didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. “I thought you heard me walk up.”

“Mn,” said Xia Luo, sinking back into the water. She eyed him closely before determining that he hadn’t noticed anything and thanked the heavens that he had no experience around girls whatsoever.

Or maybe I just look that much like a boy, she thought.

Lan Sizhui had some thoughts of his own, which he expressed with a bashful smile.

“I found it really surprising when you came to the Cloud Recesses and were able to keep up with the Lan disciples when it came to handstands, but seeing your build now, it’s no wonder at all,” he said. “It’s rare that other clans can keep up, but it makes sense Chifeng-zun’s son would.”

Xia Luo didn’t say anything.

“Wei-qianbei sent someone to let me know to find you in your room later, but when they said you’d be here, I thought I’d seek you out. Jingyi is busy with Lan Qiren right now, so it’s just us for a bit.” Lan Sizhui brushed his robes aside and took a seat on a boulder.

“You’re not used to being around people your age, are you?” he asked. “I’m guessing you don’t have any siblings.”

Xia Luo shook her head.

“Well, you have brothers in Jingyi and myself.”

“I’m only here for the year,” said Xia Luo.

“Brotherhood extends beyond time limits and borders,” he replied. “Say, did you really grow up stuck in the Xia residence?”

Xia Luo frowned. “It’s not different from here. You have walls and boundaries, too.”

Lan Sizhui shook his head. “We have a large community here, but you said you didn’t grow up around others your age. No matter how large the Xia residence might be, it's the people that make the real difference.”

Xia Luo sank down into the water until only her face from her nose up was visible.

“I think you should give Jin Ling another chance,” said Lan Sizhui. “He’s really stubborn and can come off as arrogant, but he grew up kind of like you.”

Xia Luo kept her mouth under the water. I doubt that , she thought.

“He had lots of people around him, but very few people his own age, so he doesn’t really know how to interact with them, let alone make friends,” Lan Sizhui continued. “He thinks he has to do everything on his own, so he won’t rely on anyone for anything.”

That’s obvious. He flew into our Night Hunt thinking he could solve the whole issue.

Lan Sizhui continued, “Jingyi and I have spent some time around him, though, and he’s not as bad as people make him out to be.”

“It’s good he has the both of you,” Xia Luo finally managed.

From the way Lan Sizhui glanced over at her, it was clear he picked up on the hypocrisy of the statement given what he had said about being Xia Luo’s friend in brotherhood.

“Xia Luo, can I ask you a question?” he said, hesitant. Once he managed to get that far, however, he didn’t wait for Xia Luo to break the silence with a response.

“Everyone has a goal in mind when they pursue cultivation. What is yours? Where do you see yourself going?” he asked, turning to look her in the eyes.

Xia Luo stared back, her eyes hard and unreadable.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I never thought about it.” The throbbing headache from earlier refused to let up, though the searing poison in her veins had since cooled.

The splashing sound from the small waterfall emptying into the spring filled the silence.

“You have to have some idea,” Lan Sizhui pressed, as gently as ever.

A sigh melted into the ambient sounds of the waterfall. “If I must have one, then it would be to clear the shame of my birth from Nie Mingjue’s legacy.”

* * * * *

“We can’t send him out now!” Wei Wuxian sputtered. “Lan Zhan, we just agreed that we need to watch him and get him to —”

“We cannot draw attention to his situation,” said Lan Wangji. “He must go with the juniors and keep up appearances.”

Wei Wuxian huffed. “Have you talked to Xichen? What does he think?”

“He is relieved we will not be triggering a deviation yet,” Lan Wangji replied.

Clearly dissatisfied, Wei Wuxian paced back and forth. “Send a different group!”

“Sizhui and Jingyi are the most capable.”

“Then just send them!”

“Wei Ying,” said Lan Wangji.

“I know, I know! They’re a trio now,” Wei Wuxian huffed, though he kept grumbling while he paced. “What if something happens?” he said.

“We will make sure the juniors are equipped to handle it,” said Lan Wangji.

* * * * *

Lan Sizhui eyed Xia Luo as the trio walked through the first town they stopped at, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian’s words echoing in his ears. What happened the other day that has them so concerned about Xia Luo? he wondered.

He and Lan Jingyi had been told that Xia Luo had experienced a spiritual disruption that had left him somewhat vulnerable to future disruptions, and thanks to their careful wording, neither of the juniors had made the connection to qi deviations. Xia Luo, on the other hand, had been told that what happened during meditation would stay between her and those involved, so she had no reason to suspect a change in Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi’s interactions with her.

When the juniors came to inform her of their imminent departure for another Night Hunt, Xia Luo hadn’t believed them. After the meditation fiasco only a few days prior, she thought she’d be kept on the mountain for the remainder of her time with the Lans.

Unlike the first Night Hunt she went on, being sent out this time wasn’t the relief it would have been, either. All she could think about was how little she understood about what was happening to her and how she really might be like her father after all. Instead of pride she felt only a bitter despondence.

The three juniors wandered into town and looked for the shop Wei Wuxian had asked them to stop at. He had given them a piece of paper folded up with a “small list” as he called it, “nothing burdensome,” he claimed.

Distracted by the smells of various cooked foods coming from the stalls to their left, Xia Luo wandered off while the other two opened up the folded paper.

“Alright, Wei-qianbei wants us to pick up…” Lan Jingyi read, his voice trailing off. “This is a joke, right?”

Lan Sizhui cocked his head to the side before peering over to see what was written on the paper. Two words stood out in bold handwriting.

“Jin Ling.”

The Lan boys folded up the paper in a hurry and looked over their shoulder as if Xia Luo was still standing there.

“What is he getting at?” hissed Lan Jingyi. “We told him what happened at the last Night Hunt! There’s no way he would set this up thinking anyone would find it funny!”

Lan Sizhui frowned. “I was wondering why we couldn’t find the shop he told us to look for,” he remarked. “It doesn’t exist. Oh, well. It’s not like we’d run into Jin Ling here, anyway.”

Lan Jingyi nodded his head, though he still looked put off.

The boys turned to walk towards the food stalls when something caught their eye and made them stop in their tracks.

“No way,” said Lan Sizhui.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Lan Jingyi said, astonished. “He really did it!”

A figure in golden yellow robes approached them, a tentatively pleased expression on his face.

“He doesn’t know,” hissed Lan Jingyi to Lan Sizhui who only smiled at the approaching figure.

“Jin Ling, how nice to see you,” he greeted.

“Wei Wuxian said I should meet you here for a Night Hunt,” returned Jin Ling.

“I’m surprised you came out,” said Lan Jingyi under his breath.

Jin Ling turned his nose up at him. “You try being stuck at Golden Carp Tower dealing with clan restructuring,” he said.

“Ah, so you came out sightseeing,” Lan Jingyi gibed.

Jin Ling opened his mouth to retort, but Lan Sizhui jumped in before the two could continue.

“Did Wei-qianbei tell you what the mission was?” he asked.

“Yeah, something about some drowned fishermen in Muli Ke Town,” said Jin Ling. “It sounds like a water spirit.”

Behind him, the faint sound of approaching footsteps stopped and he could feel eyes on his back. When he turned around, he came face to face with a very stormy-eyed Xia Luo holding a basket of steamed buns. The moment they saw each other it was clear what they were both thinking.

I shouldn’t have come out today .

“What are you doing here,” said Jin Ling, the distaste palpable in his tone.

Xia Luo didn’t bother with a response or a comeback. Lan Sizhui’s words from the cold spring came back to her, and although she respected him, she didn’t see the value in extending any grace in Jin Ling’s direction. Besides, Jiang Cheng’s words also twanged in her ear and only deepened her resolve against giving Jin Ling a chance.

If he thinks I’m going to kneel in front of him and make any sort of apology, he’s dead wrong , she thought and walked away from the group to stand in the shade of one of the buildings.

“So, uh, are you coming with us?” Lan Jingyi asked Jin Ling.

“I didn’t know he would be here,” said Jin Ling who was watching Xia Luo sourly.

“Yeah, well…” said Lan Jingyi.

“You already came out all this way,” said Lan Sizhui, “so you might as well come.” He didn’t disclose the fact that none of them had known Jin Ling would be here, either.

Jin Ling shrugged. “Whatever. Just keep him away from me.”

The Lan boys eyed each other and wondered for the hundredth time what Jiang Cheng had said to Xia Luo when he had come to the Cloud Recesses. Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been good. Judging by Xia Luo’s reaction to Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng must have given orders for her to stay away from Jin Ling, but they couldn’t be certain.

Leaving Xia Luo to stand alone while he stood with Lan Sizhui and Jin Ling felt too awkward for Lan Jingyi. Going to stand with Xia Luo helped alleviate some of that tension, but he also felt a bit guilty about choosing her over Jin Ling. He had known Jin Ling for longer, but Xia Luo didn’t mouth off about every little thing like Jin Ling did. If anything, Xia Luo had often gone out of her way to help him, unlike Jin Ling who never offered to help with anything.

Fortunately, the group decided to depart right away, so Lan Jingyi didn’t have to worry about that one moment causing a rift between him and Jin Ling. Even still, he felt the need to clarify the situation to Xia Luo.

“Hey, Xia Luo,” Lan Jingyi whispered, “we didn’t invite Jin Ling, it was Wei-qianbei who did.”

“What was that?” said Lan Sizhui, having just walked up.

“Oh, I was just saying that the steamed buns are really good!” said Lan Jingyi. He grabbed one and took a big bite out of it as if to prove his point. Xia Luo knew Lan Sizhui could see right through him.

“Could I try one, then?” Lan Sizhui asked.

Xia Luo was already fed up and they hadn’t even made it to Muli Ke Town. She pressed the basket into his hands and brushed past Jin Ling who was standing not too far away with his arms crossed over his chest. As soon as Lan Jingyi saw her draw her blade to mount up, he swallowed down the rest of his steamed bun and shouted that they should all be headed off.

Jin Ling declined Lan Sizhui’s offer of a steamed bun and mounted his own blade. Seeing there was nothing he could do to make the situation less tense, Lan Sizhui followed suit and the four departed.

* * * * *

Muli Ke was a coastal town known for its overseas trade that brought money back to the region along with countless oyster shells. The holds of returning trade ships were filled with oyster shells to level out the ship and prevent it from capsizing, which meant the town found itself with an overabundance of shells . To deal with them, the townspeople had found a way to build their homes and other buildings from the shells in a way that created not only very sturdy structures, but unique and beautiful ones as well. When the sunlight would hit the smooth shells they would gleam silver like fish scales, thus creating a dazzling effect.

When the group arrived at Muli Ke just before evening had fully settled in, they were more impressed by the oyster shell buildings’ ability to stay cool and dry despite the humid heat of the town’s climate during the peak of summer.

“It’s a pretty clever use for the shells,” Lan Jingyi commented while Lan Sizhui and Jin Ling arranged rooms for them at the inn.

“I mean, what better thing to make a house out of by the shore than something that comes from the ocean itself!” he continued.

Xia Luo agreed that it was clever, but she remained silent. She still hadn’t shaken her annoyance over Jin Ling’s appearance, so her mood remained slightly foul. When she saw Lan Sizhui approach them with an apologetic look on his face she prepared for her mood to take yet another hit.

“Right this way,” directed the innkeeper, indicating that they should follow him upstairs.

When he left them in front of an opened door to a room, Xia Luo immediately understood why Lan Sizhui had looked apologetic.

The room they had been given was spacious but contained only two beds.

“There is a festival for the local sea goddess going on,” explained Lan Sizhui, “so all of the other rooms are already booked. This was the only one they had, but the beds are quite large, so it should be alright.”

Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi did not think it was alright.

“Who is going to sleep with who, then?” asked Lan Jingyi.

“I’m not sharing a bed with him ,” said Jin Ling, jutting his chin towards Xia Luo.

“Well, I don’t want to share a bed with you ,” Lan Jingyi whined.

“Fine, then you can sleep with him ,” spat Jin Ling.

Lan Jingyi was indignant. “Hold on, why do you get to pick?”

“I didn’t pick, I just said who I didn’t want to share a bed with,” said Jin Ling.

“Yeah, but you named two people, which means you chose to sleep with Sizhui,” barked Lan Jingyi. “Ooh, do you like him?”

Jin Ling puffed up his chest. “What are you talking about? If anything, you’re just proving why I wouldn’t want to share a bed with you!”

“Guys, it’s just for sleeping, it’s not a big deal,” Lan Sizhui said, his voice strained.

Xia Luo watched the boys argue. None of them had moved from the front of the room, and now that Lan Sizhui had gotten pulled into it, no one was paying attention to Xia Luo. Without so much as a sigh, she walked around to the far end of the second bed, put her bag on the floor, took off her outer robe and boots, and laid down on the bed with her back to the boys.

“Okay, now that’s just insulting!” said Lan Jingyi in response to whatever Jin Ling had just said.

“It’s not,” Jin Ling snapped back, “you’re just sensitive!”.

“Guys, please, let’s just go to bed so we can start sorting things out in the morning,” said Lan Sizhui. “Xia Luo, what do you think we should… Xia Luo?”

A short stretch of silence came over the room before Jin Ling snorted and Lan Jingyi cried out.

“He’s already gone to bed! See, Jin Ling, he’s far more reasonable than you!” he said.

“Reasonable? He didn’t even participate in the conversation,” Jin Ling pointed out.

Xia Luo didn’t even roll over, but said, “It’s just a bed. It doesn’t matter who you’re sleeping next to so long as you don’t plan on doing anything other than sleeping.”

A silence tinged with awkwardness over the implication of Xia Luo’s statement fell over the room. Xia Luo was impervious to it and said nothing more. After a few moments, the boys muttered some things before Lan Jingyi shuffled over to the other side of the bed Xia Luo was laying in. After a bit more shuffling and muttering from the boys, Lan Sizhui put out the last candle and went to bed thinking that in her own way, Xia Luo was very efficient at managing a group.

Salty night air drifted in through the open window, carrying with it the silvery light of the moon. The boys’ breathing gradually slowed and fell into a deep, rhythmic cycle that echoed the distant sound of the ocean tide. Despite her own meditative breathing, Xia Luo couldn’t fall asleep. Stacked tight and sealed with mud like the oysters that made up the walls of the inn were her thoughts, each one compounding and packing down the previous ones to build an impenetrable barrier. Jin Ling’s presence after her recent meditation scare only served to heighten the level of anxiety she felt, but it could not overtake the dread she felt at hearing Wei Wuxian’s words in her head: “Do you know what qi deviation is ?”

Am I dying? Am I going to die from a qi deviation like Nie Mingjue did?

* * * * *

“Xichen, you are not well,” remarked Lan Qiren. Seeing his nephew continue to pace, he shook his head. “You should never have taken him on,” he said. “His presence has only caused you grief and has set you back further in your healing.”

He had come to visit Lan Xichen in the Cold Room to see what had happened the other day when Clan Leader Jiang had come by. Lan Wangji had not divulged much information, stating that he had not been there, so it would be best to question Lan Xichen himself. Now that Xia Luo was away on a Night Hunt, Lan Qiren took advantage of her absence to approach Lan Xichen alone.

“Seclusion is called seclusion for a reason,” he continued. “It is best that you spend the time alone without outside interference. I have watched the youth in class, and while he is much like his late father, he is also troubled. You do not need this to add to your burdens,” he said.

“Shufu,” said Lan Xichen, “Xia Luo is not the problem. It is true that his arrival has stirred up old memories and emotions within me, but I do not think that should be seen as a hindrance to my recovery.”

“You say that, but here you are, pacing back and forth like an old man!” said Lan Qiren. “Xichen, I advise you to cut your mentorship with Xia Luo —”

“I cannot do that,” said Lan Xichen, cutting him off. “Although his presence brings up painful memories, it is not he that causes me pain. I cannot punish him for my feelings.”

Lan Qiren pursed his lips. “Yet you punish yourself for your feelings.”

Lan Xichen stopped pacing. “How can I not?” he asked, his voice soft.

The fine line of Lan Qiren’s lips became even finer. His late brother had been the same way: sentimental and led by his heart more than his head. All of Lan Qiren’s efforts when raising Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji had been to make certain they didn’t fall the same way Qingheng-jun had, but it looked as though he had failed on both counts.

“Xichen, you must let go of the past. This child is like a ghost come to haunt you. I think it is best you send him away,” he advised.

“I think you are wrong, Shufu,” Lan Xichen said. “I think he might be able to show me a way forward. Besides, he is my martial nephew. If nothing else, there is duty.”

* * * * *

Silver shells glimmered in the morning light, their textured edges evoking the cresting tides from which they came. While the shells shone behind her, the endless expanse of blue ocean stretched out before Xia Luo, dazzling her with its vastness. Large ships bobbed offshore while smaller fishing boats criss-crossed the water to lay their nets and traps, each one seeking to make their daily catch as quickly as possible. The pier was crawling with merchants preparing to leave or in the process of unloading after returning, and the docks were filled with the fishermens’ wives who were awaiting the return of their husbands so they could clean the day’s catch. Under all of the commotion of busy people was the crash and rush of waves upon the shore.

“Xia Luo, did you hear me?” Lan Sizhui asked. He had come to stand alongside her, but she hadn’t heard him at all.

He looked out to see what Xia Luo had been looking at and understanding came into his expression.

“You’ve never seen the ocean, have you,” he commented. “You never really left the Xia residence, so that makes sense.”

“You’ve never seen the ocean?” parroted Lan Jingyi, his voice full of disbelief. “No way!”

Xia Luo shook her head. She had heard about the ocean and knew about the trade ships that utilized it, but she had never seen it. Seeing it spread out before her now made an unfamiliar feeling well up deep in her stomach.

“We should go in the water!” said Lan Jingyi. “We could go swimming after we’re done with the Night Hunt!”

“Don’t get too excited,” Lan Sizhui cautioned. “We really don’t know what we’re up against, so let’s focus on that before we think about swimming.”

Swim. In there. Xia Luo felt her stomach churn at the thought.

“The lakes in Yunmeng are far cleaner than the ocean,” remarked Jin Ling. “If you want to swim, you should do it there.”

“Lakes aren’t the same as the ocean,” Lan Jingyi protested.

Xia Luo turned back to the ocean. Everything about the landscape was foreign to her, and Lan Jingyi was right; the ocean was nothing like a lake. Even the biggest lake she had seen felt comprehensible, but the ocean far surpassed the scope of her conscious mind.

“What do we do first?” asked Lan Jingyi. “Maybe we should go talk to the fishermen? They’d probably know the most about the drowned people from the town.”

In order to get to the fishermen the group had to make their way over the interconnected docks where the fishermen’s wives were busy at work. Upon seeing four young masters dressed in fine clothing coming their way many of them stopped their work of sharpening knives, sewing nets, and repairing sails to watch the youths. From under the women’s hushed whispers could be heard the higher-pitched yet still quiet whispers and giggles of their daughters. More than one poked their heads out from behind the cover of their mothers’ skirts to peer at the boys.

Lan Sizhui hardly seemed to notice, but Lan Jingyi blushed a bit while Jin Ling turned his nose up and refused to look at any of them. Because Xia Luo was intrigued by all the new sights around her, she walked the slowest and thus provided the girls with the best opportunity to observe her more closely.

“He looks so serious,” said one woman to another, though her daughter had a different opinion.

“He looks capable,” she said.

A girl who had been holding up a sail for her mother didn’t hide her feelings at all and called out to Xia Luo.

“Young master! What brings such a handsome boy to our town?” she asked, her voice full of smiles.

Xia Luo caught a glimpse of the girl and looked away quickly but not before she saw an older girl elbow her way forward.

“Hey! Watch it!” said the girl with the sail, her lip jutting out in a pout.

Xia Luo lengthened her stride to catch up to the boys ahead of her but a hand on her shoulder stopped her and turned her right around so that she came face to face with the older girl.

“You can ignore a little girl,” the girl said, “but it would be rude if you ignored your jiejie.”

The shock of being forcefully grabbed momentarily rendered Xia Luo speechless. All she could do was look at the girl with a flash of indignation in her eyes.

Jiejie? Who’s my jiejie?

Xia Luo shrugged the girl’s hand off and took a step back, her shock melting into a frown.

“Don’t like mixing with fisherwomen?” the girl teased, crossing her arms over her chest. “That’s too bad. All the girls here would like to mix with you.”

“A-Yun! Leave the young master alone!” one of the women scolded. “Please excuse Wan Yun, she’s always been precocious,” said the woman as she stepped up to the girl’s side, her bronze skin wrinkling deeply across the forehead as she wrestled the elder girl away but to no avail.

Wan Yun grinned over the woman’s shoulder. “Don’t let an opportunity slip, as it won’t come again,” she cajoled.

“Wan Yun!” the woman said, scandalized.

“I’m talking about the fish, Muqin. See, the net is finished!” Wan Yun heaped a fishnet into her mother’s arms and stepped out from behind her to stand in front of Xia Luo once again.

“You’re here about the drowned fishermen, right?” she said. “I can take you to speak with my father. He was there when one of the boats went down.”

Xia Luo wanted to refuse her help so she could get away from the girl’s forwardness and the attention she was attracting, but the boys decided to show up and effectively cage her in.

“Xia Luo, is something wrong?” asked Lan Sizhui. His sudden appearance was both a comfort and a frustration.

“Nothing is wrong,” she said, “I got pulled into conversation.”

“Except he’s not very good at it,” Wan Yun said. Behind her were now gathered a handful of the other fisher girls who were brave enough to come closer for a better look at the young cultivators.

“What? There’s no way Xia Luo would be bad at flirting!” said Lan Jingyi with a broad grin. “It’s just that he’s the strong,silent type, so conversation isn’t really his strong suit,” he informed them.

“I see,” said Wan Yun, and the other girls giggled. “He must find other ways of communicating, then.”

The innuendo went over the heads of everyone but Jin Ling who immediately snapped his focus onto the girl.

“We’re here on business,” he said, “so unless you have something of value to say, then we’ll be on our way.”

The girl put her hands on her hips. “Well, well, you sure are snappy. You know, we get your kind around here pretty often. They get off the merchant ships and parade around town like they own it, but they wouldn’t know real work if it hit them in the head.”

Jin Ling scoffed. He wasn’t about to waste his time explaining to this girl who he was and what real work really looked like. For him, real work certainly did not smell like fish.

“You said your father was there when a boat went down,” said Xia Luo, bring the conversation back to something useful. The tension that had been building stilled.

“I did,” the girl said, “but now I’m not so sure I should take you to him.” She eyed Jin Ling when she said this, then looked back to Xia Luo.

“Wan Yun! This is not something you can make a game out of,” her mother scolded. “We lost four men and these young gentlemen are here on account of that. Don’t make trouble!” Wan Yun’s mother had pushed her way through the growing gaggle of girls to chastise her daughter.

“Please excuse my daughter, she is just impatient to find a husband, although acting like this means she never will,” she said, directing the last bit right at Wan Yun.

The girl wasn’t bothered in the slightest. Much to Xia Luo’s growing dismay, instead of backing down in the face of her mother’s reprimand, Wan Yun seemed to grow bolder. 

“I’ll take you to see my father,” she piped up, “but I want to be beside Young Master Xia.”

A tittering rose up from the women and girls that now surrounded them, and when Xia Luo looked to Lan Sizhui and the boys for backup, she was only met with apologetic expressions from the Lans and indifference tinged with annoyance from Jin Ling.

Jin Ling shrugged. “Whatever, so long as you take us to him and this isn’t a prank. If you’re wasting our time —”

“Oh no, it’s no waste, I promise,” said Wan Yun, a smile forming behind her eyes.

“Well, lead the way, then,” Lan Jingyi said awkwardly. “We’ll, uh, we’ll follow you.”

Xia Luo followed along in less than good humor, her expression dark. She avoided making eye contact with Lan Jingyi who was desperately trying to get her attention, no doubt to express the sentiment that there had been no other way.

I don’t see why she singled me out in the first place. Besides, what could she possibly hope to get out of this? If anything, she’s just making a fool of herself by being so forward.

After a few minutes navigating the docks that were largely devoid of available boats, the group came to a lone boat tied to a post. Wan Yun stepped into it first and positioned herself by an oar, then looked up to Xia Luo and patted the place on the bench beside her.

Xia Luo glanced beyond the boat in front of her to see where the other fishing boats were and felt her mouth go dry.

“Our deal,” said Wan Yun, a lilt in her voice.

What is wrong with you, Xia Luo? It’s just a boat. Get in.

Xia Luo gritted her teeth. This was all becoming just a little too much.

I’m not a girl, she thought, turning her attention back to Wan Yun. I’d make a terrible husband, so you really should give up. She muffled a snort that almost escaped. I must be really convincing if I can fool her, or she’s just desperate. The thought was uncharitable, but Xia Luo had no reason to think anything cordial of this girl given her behavior.

The boat swayed slightly under Xia Luo’s foot, and no matter how much she told herself that sitting in a boat would be no different than flying on a sword, she wasn’t reassured.

Falling from a sword is a much greater risk than being in a boat, she reasoned with herself. There’s no reason to be nervous about floating in a boat. I know how to swim, so even if we tipped over —

A shiver went through Xia Luo. With great effort, she forced herself into the boat and almost threw herself onto the bench. The sway of the boat while standing was unnerving, and she felt only marginally better once seated.

“You act like you’ve never been in a boat before,” Wan Yun remarked.

Xia Luo took a breath to calm herself and held onto the edge of the bench while the boys loaded in and took their seats. All of them looked at ease in the small vessel. Jin Ling even looked bored.

“I hope you know how to row, A-Luo. Go on, take the other oar,” Wan Yun directed.

A-Luo? Who do you think you are to me? Xia Luo thought, disapproval obvious on her face.

As if snorting were rationed, Jin Ling took the one Xia Luo had tamped down, earning him a glare.

Reluctantly, Xia Luo let go of her white-knuckle grip on the bench to take up the oar. Lan Jingyi dropped the rope tethering the boat to the dock and Wan Yun gave the go-ahead. With the first lurch of the boat, Xia Luo felt her heart fall into her stomach. It was viscerally clear to her body that she was no longer on solid ground and she hated everything about it.

“Come one, A-Luo, match my pace. Angle the oar, sweep back, then press forward through the water. It’s a simple technique,” said Wan Yun, teasing.

“Xia Luo, have you ever rowed a boat before, or even been in a boat?” asked Lan Jingyi.

“No,” Xia Luo said through gritted teeth while she tried to keep her mind off of the deepening water beneath her and how far they would be rowing.

“My, my, you really are too serious. You ought to loosen up or you’ll never find a happy wife,” Wan Yun said. She pressed against the oar and surprised the other boys with her strength when the boat glided into motion.

Xia Luo ignored her, but Wan Yun wasn’t going to let herself be shaken off so easily.

“Women might like a serious face, but if there’s no smile at the end of the frown then they might lose interest,” she pressed. “If you hope to find a wife, then you really ought to practice being more approachable to those who pay you attention.”

“I’m not looking for a wife ,” Xia Luo growled.

Wan Yun sat back and blinked. “Oh. I see.”

Lan Sizhui looked surprised and Lan Jingyi gaped briefly before shutting his mouth.

“I can see now that I might have miscalculated,” Wan Yun said, a blush coloring her cheeks for the first time since engaging with Xia Luo.

Jin Ling wasted no time in adding his own thoughts into the mix.

“No wonder you had no problem sharing a bed with Jingyi at the inn last night,” he sneered.

“Jin Ling,” said Lan Sizhui, a warning in his voice.

“You know, rumor had it that even your father had certain preferences , but the news of your existence complicates that rumor,” Jin Ling continued, ignoring him.

“What is that supposed to mean?” snapped Xia Luo, her attention fully on him.

“It’s alright if you lean that way,” Wan Yun said, her tone clearly trying to placate Xia Luo. “We have a boy in our town with the same, uh, predilection for what’s… familiar to him,” she said, choosing her words carefully.

“It means that everyone found it really odd that he never got a wife,” continued Jin Ling, ignoring Wan Yun. He was apparently determined to continue stoking Xia Luo’s temper.

“And now,” he said, as though he were unveiling some important secret, “you’re saying you don’t want a wife either! Dirty cutsleeve,” he muttered under his breath.

Everything clicked for Xia Luo at that moment. Quick as a fish, her hand shot forward and seized Jin Ling by the front of his robes. Full of rage, she forgot her fear of the ocean and put all of her effort into hauling Jin Ling right over the edge of the boat.

Like a golden carp leaping and landing back in its pond, Jin Ling made a beautiful golden arc through the air before splashing into the blue water of the ocean.

Wan Yun gasped while Lan Jingyi gaped and Lan Sizhui leapt up with a yell of disbelief. Xia Luo reached over the edge of the boat and grabbed Jin Ling by the back of the collar like she had when they first fought in the clearing and held him up.

“How dare you!” she snarled, her eyes flashing.

“Filthy cutsleeve!” spluttered Jin Ling. “How dare you! ”

Xia Luo burst out in a laugh. “You think that because I’m not looking for a wife that I’m looking for a husband?” she said, pausing while Jin Ling squirmed under her grip, cursing.

“You’re just like your uncle, Nie Huaisang! He’s just as much a cutsleeve as you!” Jin Ling spat.

“I’m fifteen, you idiot!” said Xia Luo before dumping Jin Ling back into the ocean.

The moment she released Jin Ling, Xia Luo’s lack of fear due to her inflamed temper fell away. The thought of Jin Ling potentially seeking retribution and trying to send her into the water turned her blood to ice.

“So, you’re not into men,” came Lan Jingyi’s voice from the other end of the boat.

Xia Luo looked over at him. Mixed into the feeling of fear was something else, something that squelched around in her gut and made her feel uneasy.

“No,” she said. “I’m not into men.”

That’s a lie, she thought. Then again, wasn’t her whole situation a lie?

Jin Ling flopped back into the boat with Lan Sizhui’s help and pushed against a bench to sit himself upright.

“I will tell my Jiujiu about this,” he swore, water pouring from his robes and hair.

“Isn’t Wei Wuxian your uncle?” said Xia Luo. No matter how bad her fear of the ocean was, her inability to hold back from responding to Jin Ling’s provocations was worse.

Jin Ling looked confused.

“It’s really too bad you use cutsleeve as the greatest insult when he’s your uncle. I’m sure he’d be sad to hear what you think of him,” she said.

Why am I bringing that up? Their relationship isn’t my problem.

“You!” Jin Ling sputtered.

“But go ahead and tell your Jiujiu. Maybe he’ll pay me another visit at the Cloud Recesses.” Xia Luo looked pointedly at Jin Ling, then looked away. For some reason, the mention of Jiang Cheng worked as an antidote to her fear, at least for the time being. Every time that Jin Ling brought him up and hid behind him made her feel invincible, like she could do or say anything.

“Also, it’s nice to know you see me as a legitimate Nie, seeing as you called Nie Huaisang my uncle” Xia Luo said to him before looking at Wan Yun. “Your oar,” she said.

The girl was staring with her mouth open at the spectacle that had just unfolded and had not yet recovered. When Xia Luo prompted her to take up her oar again, she looked at her and saw someone who was not only younger than she had expected but also far less mild-tempered than she had imagined.

She took her oar in hand and didn’t say another word until they reached her father’s boat.

Chapter Text

Wan Yun’s father was a man of average stature but extraordinary wrinkles. Etched all across his face were countless deep wrinkles that resembled the nets he used to catch fish. When he saw his daughter tie off a boat and board with finely dressed youths behind her, the wrinkles deepened around his eyes as he smiled.

“Wan Yun,” he said, coming forward to greet her and the newcomers, “who have you brought all the way out here?”

“Father, these are cultivators sent to investigate the incident you reported,” she replied.

The man’s face lit up. “Ah! I didn’t think someone would come!” he exclaimed. “Please, come and I’ll make places for you to sit.”

The boys all set themselves on the various crates and piles of rope the man pointed to as seats with Wan Yun going to sit beside her father on a pile of nets. Before her father could even ask she pulled a long needle and fine rope from her apron and began to repair a net strewn across the deck.

“Ah, Wan Yun is a hardworking, dutiful daughter,” the man remarked with a glance at the boys. 

Everyone besides Xia Luo cringed at this. The memory of Wan Yun’s disastrous attempts to ingratiate herself into Xia Luo’s good graces was too fresh in their minds. Xia Luo just kept her gaze trained on the deck of the boat and tried to imagine she was anywhere but out at sea.

Seeing he wasn’t getting a bite, the man dropped his attempt to bring the boys’ attention to his daughter and quickly introduced himself as Wan Shu. Two young men nodded at the group from the other end of the boat and got back to dropping cages to catch crabs.

“Sir, we were told that you were on the boat the night some fishermen got attacked,” Lan Sizhui said.

Wan Shu’s weathered face wrinkled again. “I was,” he replied, the warmth in his voice gone. “I can’t tell you what it was that attacked us, but I know it wasn’t any normal creature. I don’t know what kind of creature can make a whirlpool appear, or what kind of creature can wrangle a boat.”

“Can you tell us what happened from the start?” Lan Sizhui prompted.

The man let out a deep sigh. “Me and four of our men were out at night. We had decided to spend a night out at sea to celebrate a large catch we had made a few days earlier. If you’ve never been on the sea at night, all I can say is that there’s nothing quite like it,” said Wan Shu. “We weren’t out too far from shore, maybe about as far as we are right now. We had brought some alcohol and were only a drink or two in when the sea swelled beneath us. It’s not uncommon to get a swell like that from a minor earthquake that happens on the ocean floor, so we didn’t think much of it. But then, the sea began to froth,” he said. Behind him, the two men shuddered.

“The initial swell turned into a column of bubbles beneath us. Our first thought was that a whale had chosen to surface right under us, but no whale ever broke the surface,” said Wan Shu, shaking his head. “I can’t really explain what happened next. I saw an island appear where I knew there wasn’t one.”

Jin Ling snorted.

“I know what you must be thinking, but I assure you I wasn’t drunk!” Wan Shu insisted. “The other men saw it, too, so we all crowded to the edge of the boat to get a better look. None of us had ever heard of an island appearing out of nowhere, but we thought it might be a sign from the gods.”

Now it was Lan Jingyi’s turn to express his skepticism.

“What gods would send a random island to a small group of fishermen?” he asked.

“This week is a celebration for our local sea goddess,” Wan Shu explained, “so we wondered if our offerings and prayers had been heard.” He shook his head, looking sorrowful. “It was no sign of blessings, however, but of disaster.”

“Oh, right! The whole town was decorated for it,” said Lan Jingyi, noting the colorful decorations they had seen earlier.

“Please, continue,” Lan Sizhui prompted the man.

“We pulled up our anchor and set off towards the island,” Wan Shu continued. “When it seemed we would be near enough to send a raft out to see what was there we felt another swell. This time, there was no column of bubbles but the beginnings of a churning water funnel.”

“A what,” said Xia Luo, looking up at the man for the first time since sitting down.

“A water funnel. You know, a whirlpool,” Wan Shu said. “If you’ve never been in a large body of water, then you wouldn’t know.”

“Some of the rivers in Jiang territory have small ones,” Jin Ling noted. “They can’t sink boats, but they have pulled people in and drowned them before.”

“Don’t they look like a hole in the surface of the water?” asked Lan Jingyi.

“Sometimes,” Wan Shu said, “but you can’t always see them from the surface when they’re a bit weaker.”

A wave of dizziness swept over Xia Luo at the thought of a hole opening up in the surface of the ocean to drag her down to a watery grave. She drew in a shaky breath.

“Xia Luo, are you alright? You look pale,” said Lan Sizhui.

Xia Luo nodded weakly in response.

“He’s never been out to sea before,” said Wan Yun, offering an explanation. “Maybe he’s seasick.”

“Qinghe residents are all land-goers,” Jin Ling commented, superiority coloring his tone. “The rest of us have at least stepped foot on a boat before.”

“If you feel sick, just lean over the edge and let it out,” said Wan Shu. “It’s no good holding it in.”

There is no way in hell I’m leaning over the edge of this boat. It was bad enough climbing up here from the other boat.

Lan Sizhui cast a pitying glance at Xia Luo, then got back to questioning Wan Shu.

“So what happened next? How were you the only one to survive?” he asked.

Wan Shu wiped sweat from his brow. Floating on the sea meant the group wasn’t only getting sun from above but also the sun’s light reflected back at them from the water’s surface. Although the breeze felt nice, the intensity of the summer sun overpowered it and made everyone feel hot. It was no wonder the fishermen were as tanned and wrinkled as they were.

“We kept two rafts on the other boat we had, so we undid them and got ready to jump as far as we could away from the whirlpool. Then, from the edges of the whirlpool…” Wan Shu said, faltering. “You won’t believe it, but I swear to you this is what I saw. There were tentacles coming up that wrapped around the boat and dragged it towards the whirlpool. Two of our men got caught by the tentacles and were pulled overboard before they could jump with the raft. My mate suggested we try to swim to the island, but when we looked in the direction it had been, it was gone.”

“How does an island just vanish?” asked Lan Jingyi.

“Islands don’t just vanish,” said Jin Ling in response, “it’s impossible.”

“I’m telling you it was there before, and then it was gone,” Wan Shu said, an edge to his voice.

“We believe you, sir,” said Lan Sizhui. “Please, finish your story.”

Wan Yun reached out to touch her father’s arm. “There’s not much else to add,” she said. “My father and Shi Zhao jumped with the raft but Shi Zhao’s foot tangled in a net that had fallen partially off the boat. He was pulled into the whirlpool when the creature dragged the boat in with it. My father paddled back to shore on his own. We found him washed up on the beach in the morning.”

Xia Luo felt sick to her stomach, and it wasn’t from the rocking motion of the boat.

“A tentacled water beast? Maybe a giant octopus?” wondered Lan Jingyi.

“What octopus do you know makes whirlpools?” asked Jin Ling.

“I don’t know, but at least an octopus has tentacles,” Lan Jingyi said.

“Sir, were you able to count the tentacles?” asked Lan Sizhui.

“Count? Son, I could hardly keep my head, forget counting!” exclaimed Wan Shu.

“Why would he need to count?” asked Lan Jingyi.

“If there were only eight, it would be an octopus, but if there were ten, then it would be a squid,” explained Lan Sizhui.

“Why would that make any difference?” asked Jin Ling.

“Well, giant squids are thought to be quite aggressive,” replied Lan Sizhui.

“Sizhui, I don’t think it would matter in this case. Whatever it was, it was aggressive,” Jin Ling remarked.

Lan Sizhui gave a small nod. “True.”

“Hey, maybe it has something to do with the sea goddess,” said Lan Jingyi. “Sir, you said there is a celebration going on this week for the local sea goddess, and then you said you thought the island was a sign from the gods. Maybe there’s a connection between the goddess and the creature.”

Lan Sizhui frowned in thought. “That could be worth pursuing. Remember when we took down that statue that had fed off of people’s souls on Mount Dafan?” he said to Lan Jingyi and Jin Ling.

“Oh, I didn’t like that Night Hunt,” Lan Jingyi whined in response.

“At least it wasn’t chasing you,” Jin Ling huffed.

“You’re the one who provoked it!” exclaimed Lan Jingyi.

“Guys! My point in bringing that up was that this could be a similar situation,” said Lan Sizhui.

“You mean the prayers have somehow gone to a deep sea beast instead of the goddess?” asked Lan Jingyi.

Lan Sizhui shrugged. “Could be.”

Xia Luo groaned.

“You seriously can’t handle being on a boat?” Jin Ling spat, turning his scorn on her.

“We can head back,” said Lan Sizhui, rising to his feet. “There’s no need to stay out here now that we’ve got the story. We should check out the town and explore the shrines. Sir,” he said, turning to Wan Shu, “are there many temples or shrines to this goddess?”

Wan Shu still looked glum after recounting his story. “There are a number of them, but there is one main temple. You’ll find it in the center of town.”

“Excellent. Thank you for your time,” said Lan Sizhui. “Wan Yun, will you be coming back to shore with us?” he asked.

It was her father who responded for her. “Yes, she’ll go with you. It wouldn’t be right to leave a bunch of gentlemen to navigate their way back alone. A fisherman’s daughter is the best guide back to shore.”

Wan Yun glanced at Xia Luo, then at Jin Ling. Both of these boys had too much personality for her to compete with, so she opted to put her attention on Lan Sizhui instead. Too bad Lan Sizhui was as pure as a white lotus.

Before Wan Yun could even clear the dozen or so steps to get to Lan Sizhui’s side, he had already moved from his spot to crouch in front of Xia Luo.

“It’s alright if you feel sick, Xia Luo, you really can let it out,” he comforted in a soft voice. “There’s no shame in getting seasick.”

“If you’d hurry up, we can all get off this boat and get on with the investigation,” said Jin Ling. He stepped up close to Wan Yun who had lingered for a moment trying to decide whether or not to try to engage Lan Sizhui again, but Jin Ling’s presence put an end to her deliberation. With a great exhalation of frustration and disappointment, she swung her leg over the rail of the boat and descended to the smaller row boat they had used before. Jin Ling followed quickly behind her.

“Come on, we can help you get into the other boat,” said Lan Sizhui. Lan Jingyi nodded from behind him, both eager and concerned for the pitiful looking Xia Luo.

I can’t be weak in front of them. All I have to do is stand up, get into the other boat, and row back to shore.

Like a sudden gale, Xia Luo stood up and swept over to the side of the boat, startling Lan Sizhui who had been crouched in front of her.

“Yeah, that’s the spirit!” cheered Lan Jingyi.

Just pretend it’s mud between this boat and the next. I don’t want to fall in the mud, so I just have to climb down a bit, reach my leg out, make contact with the bench, and let go of the rope ladder on this boat. There’s no danger, it’s just mud.

Her foot touched down on a bench on the boat. The sway of the ocean and the displacement of the boat’s balance from her weight made the bench dip and bob beneath her foot.

Let go of the rope. Let go. Let. Go. Let go, dammit!

The boat bobbed low and took the bench out from under her foot.

I should have let Lan Jingyi or Lan Sizhui go before me. Then they could have…

What? Held her waist and helped steady her?

Pathetic! She berated herself, and let go of the rope.

There wasn’t much room to stumble, but Xia Luo still managed to stumble back only to be caught by someone behind her.

Ah, great , she thought. I let a girl catch me .

Unfortunately, Xia Luo held the advantage in both height and weight to the person behind her which caused them to fall backwards onto a bench with the other person’s back pressed against the inner wall of the boat. The realization that she had ultimately landed in someone’s lap swept over Xia Luo. When she looked up to see Lan Sizhui helping Lan Jingyi get on the boat and Wan Yun sitting wide-eyed to the side, an even greater, more terrible realization rumbled over her head.

“Get off of me, you creep!” shouted Jin Ling, his hands pressed flat against the small of Xia Luo’s back. “Get off of me before I throw you into the water to see how you like it!”

Xia Luo scrambled up and spun around, her feet taking her to the other end of the bench where she sat down with a thump .

“You know, my clothes are still wet!” Jin Ling fumed, his face bright red. “I’ll get you back for this, too! No doubt you set this up. I bet you are a cutsleeve!”

Xia Luo’s embarrassment turned to indignation. “You’re the one acting like I fell on you on purpose!” she said. “I bet you wish I did!”

“What are you implying?” said Jin Ling as he stood up in the boat, chin jutting forward.

“I’m sure you can put it together,” she said, scowling.

Lan Jingyi whispered to Lan Sizhui from where they had sat down. “I guess he’s not seasick anymore.”

“No, I suppose not,” Lan Sizhui whispered back.

It took some time, but eventually the two Lans were able to quiet the other two and put Xia Luo back behind the oar. Wan Yun didn’t say a word the entire way back to shore, nor did she stick around once she tied up the boat.

Lan Jingyi watched her hurry off to the women and disappear into the crowd of curious faces that all watched them as they walked towards town. “Well, at least we have the fisherman’s story,” he said. “It doesn’t help us much in determining what the creature is or how to deal with it, but it’s something.”

“I think the old man was drunk,” said Jin Ling. “There’s no way an island appeared and then disappeared.”

Lan Sizhui was a bit more thoughtful about the matter. “Muli Ke is a busy town with lots of merchants coming and going, and they all pray to the same sea goddess,” he said. “It wouldn’t be outside the realm of possibility that something has taken all those prayers and made itself powerful.”

“If something has, then investigating the goddess wouldn’t be much help,” said Jin Ling.

“We don’t have another lead, though, so we may as well ask around,” said Lan Sizhui.

With no other suggestions to offer, the group followed Lan Sizhui back to the inn so Jin Ling could change into dry clothes before heading back into town.

Now that her feet were on solid ground once again, Xia Luo realized that despite her attempts to level her breathing while out at sea, she hadn’t actually managed to take a full breath until now.

“Are you feeling better?” asked Lan Sizhui. The two were waiting outside the inn for the other two to finish their business inside.

“Mn,” said Xia Luo.

“I didn’t want to ask in front of the others, but… are you afraid of the ocean?” Lan Sizhui asked, his voice free of any judgment.

She’d been seen through. All of her efforts had come to nothing under the discerning gaze of Lan Sizhui.

Xia Luo didn’t look at him. “Mn.”

“That’s fair,” Lan Sizhui said, “especially when we’re talking about mysterious beasts and sudden whirlpools. Will you be alright to go back out there? I don’t see any other way of dealing with whatever the creature is than being out on a boat.”

Xia Luo’s stomach churned. Her body was yelling at her to climb up a tree and cling to it for dear life, and her mind was berating her for choking on her pride.

Xia Luo nodded.

“I see,” Lan Sizhui said.

Stupid. Stupid! No, you do not want to go back on a boat, but you still assent? And he knows you aren’t really alright to go back!

Xia Luo fumed at herself, but Lan Sizhui didn’t say anything else about it. Instead, he changed the topic to one that Xia Luo couldn’t help but perk up at.

“When the others come down, we should all go find someplace to get some lunch. With all the celebrations going on, there’s bound to be good food around,” he said.

There was, in fact, lots of good food to choose from. The town was all cheer with banners and lanterns strung up to lace overhead across the walkways. The trees were festooned with red paper cutouts that honored the sea goddess and kites could be seen in the distance, no doubt flown by the local children just outside the town’s edge.

Lan Jingyi was overjoyed by the display, while Lan Sizhui took the scene in with a gentle smile and Jin Ling looked around with only mild curiosity. Having rarely been allowed to venture out to markets or festivals, Xia Luo had her head on swivel to quietly take everything in. She was only pulled back to the activities of the group when Lan Jingyi held out a paper boat containing sesame balls.

“We should find someplace to eat lunch before dessert,” said Lan Sizhui over his shoulder.

“Aw, there’s no harm in a few treats before our meal!” said Lan Jingyi. He looked expectantly at Xia Luo, then beamed when she accepted the offering. “Besides, with all these options in the streets, why even bother sitting down for lunch? Let’s just pick little bits here and there,” he said.

Xia Luo was very much in accord with Lan Jingyi. There were all kinds of fish dishes being served at makeshift eateries that looked and smelled enticing, not to mention the assortment of other seafood that she had never encountered before.

“I agree with Lan Jingyi,” she said.

Lan Jingyi’s eyebrows shot up. “You heard him! He actually voiced his opinion, so we have to do it!” he whooped.

Lan Sizhui shook his head, amused. “Well, there’s no harm in it, so why not.”

“Come on, Xia Luo!” cried Lan Jingyi. He almost reached for her arm to tug her along out of excitement, but he caught himself and smiled sheepishly instead.

The smallest feeling of disappointment surfaced in Xia Luo, like she had missed out on something valuable. But then the moment was gone, so she followed after Lan Jingyi to ponder over the vendors’ offerings with Lan Sizhui and Jin Ling in tow.

* * * * *

“I can’t believe how much you ate!” exclaimed Lan Jingyi to Xia Luo.

The four had finished their food tour of Muli Ke and had returned to the inn to rest before evening.

“I don’t know how you can even walk after eating that much,” said Jin Ling from where he was half sprawled on his and Lan Sizhui’s bed.

Lan Sizhui chuckled. “Lan Qiren would have had a fit if he saw us eating today,” he said.

“That’s because the food he eats is only meant to sustain the body, but not the spirit,” said Xia Luo. “Lan food dampens the soul.”

“Our food isn’t that bad!” protested Lan Jingyi over a snort from Jin Ling.

“Tell me, which would you rather eat if given the choice: Lan food, or food from anywhere else?” asked Xia Luo, who was currently lying on her back on her and Lan Jingyi’s bed.

“Well, I don’t think… I mean, that’s kind of unfair,” said Lan Jingyi.

“Just admit Lan food is bland and boring, Jingyi,” said Jin Ling.

“It is, but it’s nourishing and does what food needs to do,” said Lan Sizhui.

“Yeah!” Lan Jingyi agreed.

“But it doesn’t nourish the spirit,” Xia Luo argued, “so it doesn’t do what food needs to do. Maybe nourishing the body is enough for those who eat to survive, but not for those who hope to live.”

Lan Jingyi turned to look at Xia Luo. “That was really profound, Xia Luo. Was food a big part of your upbringing?”

Xia Luo was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, I learned how to cook when I was little and was told that good food was central to a good life.”

“You were taught to cook? What are you, a girl?” Jin Ling scoffed.

Xia Luo bristled.

“It’s really uncommon for a son to be taught to cook,” noted Lan Sizhui. “I’m guessing your mother taught you?” he said, mindful that the topic of Xia Luo’s mother was a tender one.

“Mn. She said if a woman couldn’t cook well, then she shouldn’t cook at all,” Xia Luo said.

“But if she doesn’t cook, then wouldn’t she and her family starve?” asked Lan Jingyi.

“Yeah,” said Xia Luo.

“That’s harsh!” exclaimed Lan Jingyi.

“Women should be good cooks,” said Jin Ling.

“Cooking isn’t the only thing a woman should be good at,” Lan Jingyi protested.

“Maybe not if she’s a Lan woman,” said Jin Ling.

The boys were interrupted by a knock at their door. When Lan Sizhui opened it, it was to the surprise of all of them to see Wan Yun standing there. Jin Ling jumped up from his place on the bed and looked indignant at her uninvited appearance while Xia Luo only frowned.

“I’m sorry to bother you all, but my father forgot to mention something when he told you his story,” the girl said.

* * * * *

“How could he have forgotten to tell us that?” said Jin Ling. “Ridiculous. It’s pretty important to know that the attack on his boat wasn’t the only one.”

“It makes more sense now why Hanguang-jun sent us out here to investigate,” Lan Sizhui said.

“At least he only said we needed to investigate,” Xia Luo said under her breath. Then louder, she asked, “we only need to prove it exists, right?”

Lan Sizhui nodded. “Ideally we’d be able to take care of it, too, but we just need to get proof that it’s real so we can report back and determine how to deal with it.”

“What, are you scared?” Jin Ling taunted.

“I don’t know about you, but floating around on a boat to provoke a boat-sinking creature sounds pretty asinine to me,” said Xia Luo.

“I think you’re just scared,” Jin Ling said. “We’ll have our swords to fly away on if it comes to it, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Imagine not having a sword to fly away on! No wonder those poor fishermen drowned,” said Lan Jingyi. 

The group passed through the town that was more lively now than it had been during the day and made their way to the docks. Xia Luo looked over her shoulder and mourned the evening they could have had. Instead of celebrating with food and music, here they were trekking out to get on another boat.

In the distance, the silhouettes of a few men stood out against the darkening lavender sky.

“You must be the cultivators,” said one of the men when they were near enough to make out each other’s faces in the twilight.

“Ol’ Shu must really believe in this creature to bring Clan cultivators into it,” remarked another.

“We should be grateful the Great Clans sent out any cultivators for this,” the third man said, then turned back to the boys. “I’m Shi Yang. We’ll be taking my boat out tonight.”

“Wow, this is a pretty nice boat!” said Lan Jingyi once they were all boarded and the anchor had been raised.

“Thank you. I spent time away on a merchant’s ship and managed to bring back a small fortune of my own. I married a local, though, so I didn’t want to leave home again,” Shi Yang said.

“Are you not from here?” asked Lan Sizhui.

“Oh, I am, but the wife tied me down to this place more than me being born here did,” Shi Yang replied.

“What about the other two?” asked Lan Sizhui, gesturing to the other men adjusting sails.

“They’re my friends from childhood. One married a girl in town and the other can’t be pinned down. We’ve got a bet on how much longer it will be before the right woman catches him by the neck,” Shi Yang said, grinning.

“Why did you agree to come out with your boat if there might be a creature out here that could sink it?” asked Jin Ling. “Unless, of course, you don’t believe there is something like that out here.”

Shi Yang ran his hand through his hair and made a face. “I don’t know what to think. There’s no doubt that Wan Shu’s boat went down and his mates went missing, all on a clear night. It’s also true that another boat went missing not far from the coast with no survivors. That one’s hard to speak to because maybe they did go out farther, but even still, it was a clear night.” The man looked pensive for a moment before continuing. “Even if I don’t believe there is a giant squid sinking boats and making whirlpools, I do think there’s something. I mean, there has to be an explanation.”

“It’s definitely strange that both events happened on clear nights,” said Lan Sizhui. Jin Ling only shrugged.

At the other end of the boat, Xia Luo let the wide sleeve of her Lan robe hide the fact that her hand was in a deathgrip around Yongyao’s hilt. She was doing her best to tune out the conversation, but the farther out they went, the clearer their voices became. It was true that sound behaved differently over water, and fear heightened the senses further.

“Xia Luo, we can set up our spots for the night if you want,” said Lan Jingyi, coming to stand beside her. He peered out into the expanse of water that stretched out endlessly before them. “Imagine being far enough from land that the only thing you can see around you is water,” he said, awe in his voice. “That’s got to be kind of scary!”

Xis Luo gritted her teeth and squinched her eyes shut. “Let’s set up our bedrolls,” she said.

The group had agreed earlier that they were unlikely to come across whatever the thing was on the first night, so rather than all of them stay up to keep watch over a silent ocean, they would take it in turns. Xia Luo still had not come up with a plan to get herself to look at the ocean for more than a full second, let alone for long periods of time.

By the time she and Lan Jingyi set up their bedrolls and doublechecked their equipment the other two had come to join them to do the same.

“Shi Yang said we’re stationed right where Wan Shu said he had been when his boat went down,” Lan Sizhui informed them as he laid his bedroll out beside Xia Luo’s.

“Will he and the others be staying out on deck tonight?” asked Lan Jingyi.

“No, we told them to relax in the cabin and we would get them if needed,” Lan Sizhui said.

“He has the right idea, honestly,” said Jin Ling. “I wouldn’t have come on this Night Hunt if I knew this was what we’d be doing,” he said.

The Lan boys glanced at Xia Luo in anticipation, but she didn’t say anything in response. They didn’t realize it, but the darker the night became, so did her mood.

“Well, you’re here now, so let’s give it our best go. Like we agreed, if nothing happens for three nights in a row, then we’ll head back to report and see what guidance the elders have for us,” Lan Sizhui said.

“It’s not that bad anyway,” said Lan Jingyi. “I mean, we just have to set some spirit lures around the boat and then sit and wait.”

Although Xia Luo had known the plan, hearing it said out loud now that they were on the boat only made the whole ordeal that much harder to bear. As it was, she had fought herself the entire way from the inn to the docks just to keep from turning tail and running to hide. On land, there was little she was afraid of, but on the ocean… well, she was afraid of the ocean itself.

Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui went about their work to place their lures, double checking that everything was set before returning to sit with the others. Silence fell over the boat, leaving only the sound of the ocean.

“What should we talk about?” asked Lan Jingyi, his face silhouetted by moonlight.

Xia Luo breathed a sigh of relief. The sound of the ocean with nothing else to interrupt it was undoing her, so Lan Jingyi’s voice was a welcome reprieve.

“I don’t know, what is there to talk about?” said Jin Ling.

“We could tell stories,” Lan Jingyi suggested.

“Yeah? Alright, I have a ghost story for you,” said Jin Ling.

“Hey! There’s no need to be like that!” exclaimed Lan Jingyi. “I hate ghost stories,” he grumbled.

“Then you think of something,” said Jin Ling.

It was a while before Lan Jingyi responded, his tone a bit bashful. “We could talk about girls,” he suggested.

“What about them?” Jin Ling scoffed. “Don’t tell me you found that Wan Yun girl attractive.”

“No, not her,” said Lan Jingyi. “And I don’t know, we could talk about what we would look for in a girl. I mean, we may be a bit young now, but we might marry in the future. Jin Ling, you’ll have to find a wife since you’re a Clan leader.”

Jin Ling’s voice was full of scorn. “I don’t see why it would matter that much. All she needs to do is produce an heir. Her other qualities don’t matter.”

“That’s a bit crude, don’t you think?” said Lan Sizhui.

“I mean, she should also be pretty,” said Jin Ling, as though this made up for his previous comment.

Xia Luo made a sound through her nose.

As though taking strength from that small show of disapproval, Lan Jingyi took his turn at Jin Ling.

“That’s the least romantic thing I’ve ever heard!” he admonished. “You know, it’s a good thing you’re in a position that makes you desirable, because otherwise —”

“Surely there are other traits you would look for in a woman?” Lan Sizhui prompted, cutting Lan Jingyi off before he could finish.

Jin Ling stood firm. “Fine, Jingyi, then what about you? What would you look for in a woman?” he asked.

Lan Sizhui looked expectantly at Lan Jingyi as well. “Go on, Jingyi,” he said.

Embarrassed by the attention now trained on him, Lan Jingyi didn’t look as brave as before.

“Oh, well, I think she should be kind,” he said, “and have a good sense of humor. Yeah.”

“That’s a good start,” Lan Sizhui encouraged.

“What about you, Sizhui?” asked Lan Jingyi in an effort to get out of the spotlight.

“Hm. I agree with you about her being kind. I also think she should be compassionate, skilled at an instrument, and good with kids,” said Lan Sizhui. “Yes, she should definitely be good at raising children and keeping the home.”

“Oh, yeah! It would be great if she could play an instrument,” said Lan Jingyi. “I’d want her to be good with kids, too, and a good cook!”

Jin Ling shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, those are things all women should be able to do.

“Maybe, but not all of them can do it well,” said Lan Jingyi.

Up until now, Xia Luo had been listening with a hint of amusement at what the boys had to say. When she thought about it, she realized that none of them had grown up with girls their age or around close maternal figures. If anything, their exposure to the female sex was even less than her own given that her mother had been a regular part of her life. If maids counted in the equation, then it was no wonder Jin Ling would think so little of women in general.

“Speaking of doing it well,” said Lan Jingyi, “I feel like we should bring it up.”

“Bring what up?” asked Lan Sizhui.

“You know,” Lan Jingyi said.

A short, puzzled silence came over the group before Jin Ling and Lan Sizhui both made a sound of understanding and embarrassment.

“Jingyi!” said Lan Sizhui.

“What! I think it’s a fair thing to consider. I mean, children come from somewhere,” Jingyi reasoned.

“He’s right,” said Jin Ling. “It’s for making babies and for enjoying.”

Lan Sizhui took on the upright air of a Lan gentleman. “Sex is for producing children, not for indulging in,” he said.

“But Wei-qianbei and —” Lan Jingyi said but was cut off.

“We don’t talk about their private affairs,” said Lan Sizhui.

Jin Ling made a face, but he still agreed with Lan Jingyi.

“I think Jingyi has a point,” he said. “Besides, what about when your wife is pregnant? What do you do then?”

Lan Sizhui frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You wouldn’t sleep with her while she’s pregnant,” said Jin Ling.

“Well, no,” said Lan Sizhui. “You would have already achieved what you needed to.”

“Yeah, but then what are you supposed to do for the rest of the time?” asked Jin Ling.

Lan Sizhui looked confused. “What time?”

Jin Ling looked to Lan Jingyi for support. 

“I think he’s asking what you would do about sex during that time,” said Lan Jingyi.

“You would abstain,” said Lan Sizhui. “She’s already pregnant, after all.”

“Do you think Wei-qianbei and Hanguang-jun would abstain if one of them got pregnant?” said Lan Jingyi, full of skepticism.

Both of the boys looked at him like he had two heads.

“I’m just saying! Whatever needs they have, they seem to take care of them,” he said.

Jin Ling scoffed. “I bet they would keep doing it.”

“You guys, it’s not right to talk about their private affairs!” insisted Lan Sizhui.

“Alright, so if you can’t have sex with your wife, then what?” asked Lan Jingyi. “I wouldn’t dare go to a brothel!”

“Who ever said one woman had to be able to do it all, anyway?” said Jin Ling in a breezy tone. “You don’t have to go to a brothel.”

It took Lan Sizhui a minute to deduce what Jin Ling meant, and when he did he couldn’t help but respond in shock. “Jin Ling, are you saying you would take concubines?” he asked.

“Maybe. I mean, why not?” Jin Ling replied.

“You haven’t even found a wife yet and you’re already thinking about concubines?” Lan Jingyi said, scandalized.

“I’m just saying that taking concubines makes sense,” said Jin Ling with a shrug. “My wife would be busy raising the children, so it only makes sense to take on concubines to take care of my needs.”

“Your needs?” said the low voice of Xia Luo.

Three pairs of eyes trained themselves on Xia Luo, startled to hear her speak as if they had forgotten she was there.

Jin Ling looked ruffled. “Yeah, my needs,” he said, pressing on.

“Didn’t your grandfather take concubines to sate his many needs ?” said Xia Luo.

Scenes of the late Jin Guangyao surrounded by concubines and prostitutes as described to them filled the minds of the boys and brought a deep blush to Jin Ling’s face.

“He was shameless and had no regard for decency,” said Jin Ling, defending himself. “There’s nothing wrong with having one or two concubines.”

“Do you think your wife would feel the same way?” asked Xia Luo.

The air of battle wafted between the two teens.

Jin Ling shrugged, his chin tipped up in a way that gave away everything he was about to say. “It wouldn’t matter. It’s not like I’d need her permission,” he said.

“Let me know how long any happiness in your marriage lasts,” said Xia Luo, dismissing him.

“Who even said I’d marry for happiness? It would probably be a political marriage,” Jin Ling countered.

“I feel sorry for whatever woman you manage to trap,” Xia Luo said.

“As if you’d ever find a wife,” spat Jin Ling.

“Guys, there’s no need to get worked up, it’s all just hypotheticals,” said Lan Sizhui.

“Oh, I assure you I’d have no problem finding a wife. Girls throw themselves at me, and those that don’t are thrown by their mothers,” Xia Luo said, her lip curled in a leer.

“Xia Luo!” exclaimed Lan Sizhui.

“Yeah, right!” said Jin Ling. “You might attract a girl, but there’s no way you could keep her with your terrible personality.”

“Well, it’s obvious you got your personality from your uncle, and if he’s any sign as to what your future looks like, then you’ll never find a wife,” said Xia Luo.

“Don’t you bring my Jiujiu into this!” Jin Ling yelled, jumping up to point his finger at Xia Luo. “You already owe me so many apologies and you still have the audacity to call out my Jiujiu, the leader of the Jiang Clan, to my face!”

“All I’m saying is that the apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree, and from observation, the tree isn’t doing too well for itself,” scoffed Xia Luo.

“You —”

“Alright, I think that’s enough!” Lan Sizhui interceded. He had stood up to block Jin Ling from advancing on the still-seated Xia Luo and was looking between the two to see who might try to make the first move.

“Can’t we just have a normal conversation?” he asked, a hint of mild anxiety present in his voice. “Xia Luo was wrong to bring Clan Leader Jiang into this, so please accept my apology on his behalf,” he said to Jin Ling.

Jin Ling rolled his eyes and threw his hands up, then pointed at Xia Luo again.

“You know,” he said, “you won’t always have Sizhui and Jingyi to back you up. Watch yourself.” Thoroughly annoyed, Jin Ling moved to sit at the far end of his bedroll and glared at Xia Luo. She pretended not to notice.

“So, what about you?” said Lan Jingyi to Xia Luo.

Surprised to be addressed, Xia Luo raised an eyebrow at him.

“What are you looking for in a wife?” Lan Jingyi said to clarify for her.

“Oh. I’ve never thought about it,” she replied simply.

“There’s no better time than now,” said Lan Sizhui, gently encouraging her to open up and glad that she wasn’t still going after Jin Ling.

I’m not looking for a wife, nor will I ever , thought Xia Luo.

“Yeah, you’ve got to have some idea of what you’d want in a wife,” Lan Jingyi pressed, enthusiastically leaning forward on his own bedroll.

Xia Luo let out a sigh. If anything, engaging in conversation would help keep her mind off of the ocean.

“I’d want her to be well-read,” she said, “maybe be more intelligent than me.”

“Why would you want a woman smarter than yourself?” asked Lan Jingyi.

“Because then she’d be good conversation and could teach me things.”

“Good luck finding a woman better read than a trained cultivator,” said Jin Ling.

“There are plenty of female cultivators,” said Lan Sizhui, “and plenty of them are incredibly intelligent.”

“Yeah? And how would you know,” said Jin Ling.

“Men and women might not train together or have the same training depending on which Clan they’re in, but the women still have to be able to look out for themselves on Night Hunts and tend to business,” explained Lan Sizhui. “I think I’d like to marry a cultivator, because then we could cultivate together, which I think would be really nice.”

“I’d want my wife to be a cultivator, too,” Lan Jingyi agreed. “It would give us something to relate to each other over.”

Jin Ling crossed his arms. “I wouldn’t want to marry a cultivator.”

“Afraid she’d be better than you?” Xia Luo taunted.

“No, I just wouldn’t want to have to balance her cultivation needs on top of my own,” retorted Jin Ling.

Xia Luo scowled, but Lan Sizhui cut in before she could respond. “What about you, Xia Luo? Would you want to marry a cultivator?” he asked.

Xia Luo put aside her remark for Jin Ling and answered Lan Sizhui honestly. “Of course.”

“I think it’s best that way,” said Lan Jingyi, nodding. “Alright, what else would you look for in a wife?”

Of course offering one trait wouldn’t be enough to put them off this line of questioning , Xia Luo thought to herself with an inward sigh.

“I’d want her to be strong. She should be able to spar with me,” she said.

“Okay, now you’re being ridiculous! Where would you find a woman who could spar with you?” asked Jin Ling. “You’re not even done growing yet, but you want us to believe you actually think you could find a woman who can match you, if not best you? What are you looking for, a giant?”

Xia Luo narrowed her eyes. “There are plenty of tall women out there,” she said, defensive.

“Maybe, but not tall enough to take on the son of Nie Mingjue,” Jin Ling responded.

“I think it’s admirable that Xia Luo wants to marry a woman that can challenge him,” said Lan Sizhui.

Xia Luo could tell he was just playing nice to keep tempers from flaring.

“Ah! I figured it out!” said Jin Ling, his eyes sparkling. “Unless you’re looking for a sentient ox, then what you’re looking for is yourself but as a woman!”

“Sentient ox!” Now it was Xia Luo’s turn to jump to her feet.

Lan Jingyi leaned in to whisper to Lan Sizhui while both of them continued to watch Jin Ling and Xia Luo go back and forth at each other with unpleasant comments. “If you ask me, those two wouldn’t make a bad pair given their criteria,” he said.

Lan Sizhui furrowed his brow. “Xia Luo doesn’t fit any of Jin Ling’s criteria.”

“You probably just repeat whatever your uncle has said about women! Keep at it and you’ll be the reason the Jin Clan reverts to being a sect!” said Xia Luo.

Lan Jingyi glanced at Lan Sizhui. “We don’t call Jin Ling “Princess” for nothing, and by Xia Luo’s standards… I think it could work,” he said.

They hadn’t caught what Jin Ling had said to Xia Luo, but they tuned back in just in time to hear Xia Luo respond.

“Maybe if you saw her as something more than the means to produce an heir you would consider that looking for a woman who was versatile in bed was an option!” she spat.

Lan Sizhui blinked.

Lan Jingyi bit his lip to hold back a grin.

Jin Ling looked taken aback, as though he hadn’t considered that Xia Luo would factor sexual needs into their argument.

“What would you know about that, anyway,” said Jin Ling. “Don’t tell me you’ve gotten it on with someone.”

“No, I haven’t, but erotic novels are pretty enlightening,” said Xia Luo. “You must not have paid very much attention to them when you were reading them with Lan Jingyi.”

Lan Jingyi could have caught flies in his mouth with the way it hung open. Jin Ling looked like someone had spilled one of his deepest secrets.

“You weren’t supposed to bring that up,” said Lan Jingyi in a small voice.

“Jingyi, you still have them? I thought you got rid of them,” said Lan Sizhui.

“No, I wanted to, but the person I was going to pass them off to got nervous, so he hasn’t taken them yet,” Lan Jingyi whined.

“What kind of pervert applies what they see in erotic novels to their marriage bed?” Jin Ling blustered.

“Someone who doesn’t want to be bored but also wants to stay faithful,” Xia Luo quipped back, “unlike the person who would take concubines rather than look for a proper wife.”

“You know, you talk pretty big for someone whose father never married and whose uncle isn’t married, either,” said Jin Ling. “You get on my Jiujiu for being unmarried, but none of the current Clan leaders are married. As for your elders, I can’t imagine who would want to marry into a family of dirty butchers, so no wonder they never found wives. Chifeng-zun must have been so desperate that he even turned to other means to get a bastard out of a woman.”

Like rolling thunder, Xia Gongmin’s voice filled Luo’s head.

“The Nie Sect was founded by butchers, and much of what the sect is known for involved killing. Whether it was in battle with men or in Night Hunts with yao beasts, the Nie have always been fierce individuals unafraid of blood. This history is something the sect has had to contend with in order to carve a place out for themselves in the cultivation world. As you know, butchers are looked down upon and seen as a lowly caste despite the fact that they provide an essential service. Someone must kill if others are to eat.”

The line had been drawn.

“Oh?” said Xia Luo, her voice low in the dark night. The heat of her temper warmed and immunized her against the cold light of the moon reflecting off the ocean’s ever-changing surface.

The Lan boys tensed immediately and took a step towards Jin Ling who also sensed that something had changed.

Butchers and prostitutes were the lowest of the low, and with Jin Ling’s insinuation about Xia Shunchao’s role in producing Xia Luo, he had labeled Xia Luo at the bottom of the social ladder on both counts. But he didn’t know. He didn’t know just what Xia Shunchao had done, nor did he know what Xia Gongmin had taught her of the Nie Clan ways.

“Xia Luo, let’s think rationally,” said Lan Sizhui from his place in front of Jin Ling.

“Yeah, Jin Ling went too far, but there’s no need to go to blows over it. I’m sure he’ll apologize for what he said,” Lan Jingyi added.

In time with the rising and falling of the waves beneath the boat, Xia Luo’s silent rage rose as her terror of the sea sank under its influence.

“I’m done waiting around for this creature to show up. It’s not coming to your spirit lures,” she said, her tone as cold as the moon’s light.

Lan Jingyi didn’t have the chance to ask what she meant when she pulled her sword free and leapt into the air. The boys didn’t have time to react before Xia Luo had reached into her sleeve and pulled out a handful of something as she flew straight at Jin Ling. Under the impression that her last statement meant she might be planning to fly back to shore, no one anticipated her next move as Jin Ling was grabbed by the collar and hauled into the air.

Dangling over the boat, Jin Ling couldn’t reach for Suihua because he was gripping at the front neckline of his robes to keep from choking.

“Xia Luo, put him down!” yelled Lan Sizhui.

Lan Jingyi was more frantic than his peer. “What are you doing? You’ve really lost your mind this time!” he yelled.

“If I’m a dirty butcher,” snarled Xia Luo at the desperate Jin Ling, “then you’re the pig for slaughter.”

An explosion of brown powder that reeked of rust rained down on Jin Ling.

“What did you just throw on me, you freak! Put me down!” he yelled, but to no avail.

On the boat’s deck, Lan Jingyi squinted as he tried to make out what was happening. He had wanted to fly up to them, but Lan Sizhui had warned him it could make the situation more dangerous.

“What is he doing? Is he drawing in the air?” he wondered out loud.

It clicked for Lan Sizhui after hearing Jin Ling. “He’s drawing with pig’s blood like he did to lure the corpses!”

With a final flourish that looked more like the slash of a saber’s blade, Xia Luo opened her hand wide and made a motion at the seal that fizzled in the air. Then, just as Lan Sizhui pulled his sword to fly up, Xia Luo leaned forward on Yongyao to urge it forward, ran her blood-coated fingers over Jin Ling’s forehead, and threw him into the ocean’s black water.

“No!” cried Lan Sizhui who had made it to Xia Luo’s side a second too late.

“Xia Luo! You’ll be punished for the rest of your time at the Recesses!” shouted Lan Jingyi from his sword on her other side.

“He can finally make up for the mess he made of our Night Hunt with the monkey yao,” Xia Luo said, her lip still curled in a snarl. “Now he’ll be useful.”

From down below they heard Jin Ling’s frantic flailing as he resurfaced, and with it a torrent of curses.

“You’ll pay for this, Xia Luo! If you think you had a chance of being legitimized as a Nie, you can forget it now! I’ll make sure you’re never seen as more than the bastard whore-son you really are!” shouted Jin Ling. “You’re the perfect example of why all the Nie Clan leaders die of qi deviation! With any luck, you’ll qi deviate and die young!”

The swell of rage that had fueled her suddenly plummeted. An endless scroll of black sky and black water stretched out in all directions and surrounded her, its oppressive infinitude pressing on her until she felt her lungs would pop from the pressure. What had seemed such a short distance to get away from the boat’s edge now felt immeasurably far.

Jin Ling finally managed to pull Suihua from the tangle of his robes under the water and was preparing to fly out after shouting at the Lans that he didn’t need their help. If he had been honest, though, he would have wanted them to pull him out of the water as quickly as possible. There was something about the ocean at night that felt predatory.

From her perch in the air, Xia Luo stood frozen on Yongyao. Through her terror she could see a change in the water around Jin Ling, a change that Wan Shu had said he’d seen the night his ship sank.

Chapter Text

It really felt like it had been so long since he had pulled such a trick, but the truth was that Wei Wuxian had been dead for far longer than he had gone without causing mischief at any point in his life. This morning, he sensed Lan Wangji rise from bed, put himself together for the day, and plant a kiss on his forehead before leaving to teach that morning’s lessons. Normally, Wei Wuxian would be out cold, sleeping deeply and without any awareness of Lan Wangji’s morning routine. Last night, however, he had meditated instead of sleeping precisely so he could know when Lan Wangji would leave. After waiting a few more minutes once he heard the door close, Wei Wuxian rose with a big stretch and told himself that Xia Luo should consider himself very lucky to be worth Wei Wuxian losing sleep and tricking Lan Zhan.

After the events of Lan Xichen and Xia Luo’s disastrous meditation, Wei Wuxian could not let go of the fact that they still knew so little about the youth. In all the months he had been with the Lans, none of them had learned anything more than that he didn’t get along with his mother and that he held some deep resentment. No one knew the depths of these feelings, let alone the causes, and Wei Wuxian had decided it was time to speed things up a bit. If Xia Luo wouldn’t open up, then as his elder, it was Wei Wuxian’s responsibility to take whatever measures were necessary to ensure his wellbeing. Given that Xia Luo was now experiencing what was undeniably some serious qi disruptions, Wei Wuxian had plotted his next move with a clear conscience.

“How terrible to see a kid die like that,” he said to himself as he dressed, “especially if we didn’t do everything we could to prevent it. I can’t imagine how devastated Lan Xichen would be.”

Normally Wei Wuxian dressed in his preferred black and red robes, but today he donned the white Lan robes given to him when he entered the Clan as a member through his marriage to Lan Wangji.

“I have to look the part,” he said to himself, tying the patterned Lan forehead ribbon under his neatly done ponytail. After a quick look in the mirror and a laugh at himself and how ridiculously put together he looked, he left the cottage and chose a way back to the main part of the Recesses that wouldn’t make it obvious where he had come from.

Luckily at this hour of the morning there were few people walking around. Most people were doing their morning training, lessons, or duties, so Wei Wuxian didn’t have to be too careful to not be seen. The rare person he did pass simply gave him a nod in the lilac light of morning and went on their way.

“It turns out ending up in this body makes it easier for me to get by as any random Lan, even some of the younger ones,” he observed. “It would have been much harder not to be noticed in my original body, seeing as I was very tall and handsome.”

Thoughts of his former self and the differences between it and what had been Mo Xuanyu’s body carried him the rest of the way to the guest disciples’ dormitories. Recalling what Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui had told him about the contents of Xia Luo’s room, Wei Wuxian moved quickly through a few rooms until he located Xia Luo’s by the single pair of gray and purple Xia family robes hanging up in the wardrobe.

“He really didn’t bring much at all,” Wei Wuxian remarked as he thumbed through the Lan robes. A pat down of the robes yielded nothing, nor did a closer inspection of the Xia robes.

“All boys keep some extra stuff, though,” he said. He swept his gaze around the room which looked very much like all the other rooms, only perhaps neater and emptier. In a way, it felt like no one really lived there at all. There were no additional blankets on the bed, nothing on the walls, and nothing but the usual notebooks and writing implements on the desk.

“Mm, maybe he’s a writer! The silent ones sometimes write a lot,” Wei Wuxian remarked and pounced on the notebooks. It didn’t take more than a quick rifling to see that there was nothing written in the notebooks but notes from lessons and from the additional readings Xia Luo did.

“You’d think he came from a family that owned nothing! How can a kid have so little? Doesn’t he have any hobbies? I feel like even Lan Zhan had more in his room than this!” Wei Wuxian was stumped thus far by the almost ascetic level of minimalism Xia Luo appeared to practice. As if guided by pure intuition, Wei Wuxian bore down on the chest at the foot of the bed.

In it were the usual underclothes expected to be found in a chest, as well as some basic hygiene items. There were a few lengths of white cloth that Wei Wuxian thought looked like large bandages for wrapping something like a chest wound, but he didn’t pay them too much mind. Nestled into the cloth was what looked to be an instrument case, and when he opened it, Wei Wuxian was very surprised to find a hulusi.

“So he does have a hobby! I never would have guessed the son of Nie Mingjue would play the hulusi! Maybe he takes a bit after his uncle Huaisang, after all,” Wei Wuxian remarked. An inspection of the instrument and the case yielded no further clues into Xia Luo’s life.

“That can’t be it. An instrument, which we’ve never heard him play, can’t be the only thing he has. Did his mother hate him or something? Did she raise him like a peasant with threats that this was how he would live forever unless he made something of himself like his father?” Wei Wuxian mused. Though the speculation sounded wild, nothing felt too unbelievable to him after the life he had lived. He wondered for the hundredth time what the mother and son’s relationship was like, and what role Xia Gongmin had played in raising Xia Luo in Nie Mingjue’s stead.

“Nothing about this kid makes any sense. He hasn’t left any clues… eh? What’s this?”

Nestled discreetly in the bottom corner of the chest was a leather pouch whose contents were comprised of small vials of something that smelled medicinal in nature. The color of the liquid was dark, like rich honey or amber, but Wei Wuxian hadn’t the slightest idea as to what it could be for. He thought for a moment that he could bring it to Lan Wangji, but then he would have to admit that he had gone snooping through Xia Luo’s things, which he was loath to do.

“I’ll just take one of these vials into town!” he decided, slipping one into his boot before putting everything back in the chest exactly as he had found it.

Leaving the Cloud Recesses was as easy as changing back into his regular robes and strolling through the main gate. No one asked him where was going, but he took care to casually mention it to a pair of Lans who made eye contact with him. No one would question his desire to go out to lunch in town — which was most likely a guise to go out for alcohol instead — and now someone knew of his whereabouts so they could tell Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian shook his head and smiled when he thought about how protective his husband was of him.

Once in town, Wei Wuxian made a beeline for an apothecary and placed the vial on the counter in front of the woman.

“Can you tell me what this is?” he asked.

The woman was middle-aged and had a few gray hairs at her temples. She had small eyes that seemed to scrutinize everything they looked at. Wei Wuxian wondered if the small eyes helped her in her trade or if they had gotten smaller through years of practice.

Is that even how eyes work? he wondered.

“Let’s see,” the woman said, taking a whiff of the vial’s contents.

“Mm, as I thought. This is a popular tincture for its purposes, but it’s more common towards Qinghe. Are you with a Nie girl?” the woman asked, securing the cap back onto the vial before passing it back to Wei Wuxian.

“A Nie girl? No, why would you ask?” Wei Wuxian replied, puzzled.

“She could have gotten it from someone in the territory, then. Either way, it looks like your girl hasn’t been honest with you,” the woman said, her tone offhanded.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” said Wei Wuxian, frowning.

“Son, the girl you’re with doesn’t want to get pregnant,” the woman said. “If you found this vial in her belongings, then it’s clear the two of you aren’t on the same page about having children. You should have a talk with her, but be gentle about it.”

“Oh, I think you must be mistaken,” Wei Wuxian said with a laugh. “This was in my, uh, my cousin’s things. He’s a teenage boy, so there’s no need for him to take this.”

The woman raised an eyebrow at him. Wei Wuxian felt his stomach tighten.

“Son, have you considered your cousin might have some desires that being alone in his room might not be taking care of?” the woman asked, a wry smile on her lips.

A feeling of unease settled in Wei Wuxian’s stomach.

“Are you sure there isn’t any other use for this? Anything at all?” he asked. He was pulling at straws in an effort to avoid confronting what looked to be a major rule breaking.

“Sure, it can stop a girl’s period. Which is why it’s used as a contraceptive. Seems like your cousin is at least being responsible in that sense. He knows it’s no good to have children when you’re still a child yourself. His mother must have raised him proper,” the woman said. It was clear from her stance and expression that Wei Wuxian wasn’t going to get any other answer from her.

“Ah, right. Thank you. I’ll be sure to have a talk with him about this,” Wei Wuxian said before leaving the apothecary to mull over the conversation he would have to have with Xia Luo. The idea that he was potentially sneaking into town to meet someone or going to a brothel was so outlandish when put against Xia Luo’s reputation as a star student and strict rule-follower.

“Wait a second, that can’t be!” Wei Wuxian said to himself. “He doesn’t go anywhere without Jingyi and Sizhui, and there’s no way they would drop him off wherever he wanted to go. There’s no way they wouldn’t have said anything to Lan Zhan or myself, either. So if he’s not going into town to rendezvous with a girl, then why would he have this tincture?”

A thought struck him like lightning.

“There’s no way. No way. There's no way he’s going on the other side of the mountain to meet a Lan girl!”

* * * * *

“The water,” Xia Luo said, then she repeated herself, but yelled it. “The water! Get out of the water!”

“You know, I’ve really had it with you!” Jin Ling fumed as he tried to have Suihua raise him from the water.

“No, Jin Ling, the water is changing!” cried Lan Sizhui.

Around Jin Ling and the boat, the water was beginning to froth and emit a rising vapor that hung low in the air. The more the water frothed, the denser the hanging vapor became until it was a heavy fog that obscured everything farther than a stone’s throw away from the boat.

Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi flew down and pulled Jin Ling from the water before making a hasty retreat to the boat’s deck where Xia Luo had already landed. Jin Ling didn’t have time to contemplate his drenched state before Lan Jingyi made a comment that brought everyone’s attention to a singular point.

“Xia Luo, you actually called up that beast,” he said, “which means it’s not a spirit.”

“We were anticipating a spirit, though,” said Lan Sizhui, “so we’re not fully prepared to handle whatever kind of beast this is.”

“You said that I screwed up your Night Hunt last time, but what’s your excuse on this one?” snapped Jin Ling.

Xia Luo couldn’t tell them that she would do anything to end this nightmare at sea faster.

“It’s not screwed up. We’d have been here all night for no reason,” she said.

“Great! So how do we deal with it?” Jin Ling asked, pointing out to the water. “Because as it stands, we’re just waiting for that thing to make a whirlpool and sink us!”

“That’s no different than it would have been had it been a spirit,” snapped Xia Luo.

“Guys!” said Lan Sizhui. “We need to prepare ourselves. Jingyi, go tell the crew to stand by. We might need them to get us all out of here in a hurry if we can’t figure out what to do. I don’t want them to lose their boat tonight.”

Lan Jingyi scampered off, leaving Xia Luo and Jin Ling with Lan Sizhui.

“You two need to put aside your personal quarrels and work together, just for this Night Hunt, alright? I can see that you aren’t going to be friends, but we’re on the same team, so just make sure you have each other’s backs. I want everyone to get through this unscathed. Am I clear?” Lan Sizhui said.

Jin Ling scowled and stuck his nose up in acknowledgement. Xia Luo gave a small nod.

“Good. Xia Luo, do you have any ideas what it could be? I’m guessing it’s a yao beast since it came to your lure,” Lan Sizhui said.

“Not yet,” Xia Luo replied just as Lan Jingyi rejoined the group.

“The crew are ready for our orders. They’ll also be keeping an eye on the water since they know the ocean better than we do,” he said.

Lan Sizhui nodded.

“What is that?” asked Jin Ling.

The group looked to where he pointed. Through the fog, the group could faintly see an island come into view.

“Oh, no way!” said Lan Jingyi. “Hey, do not go towards that island! Hold our position,” he called to Shi Yang.

“You got it!” came the response.

“Now what,” said Jin Ling.

“We wait,” said Lan Sizhui. “I wonder what will happen if we don’t go closer to the island.”

An incense time later nothing had changed. The island kept its distance and the boys kept their vigil.

“Should we provoke it?” asked Jin Ling. “Nothing is happening.”

“No, I think we should keep waiting,” Lan Sizhui said.

“What are we waiting for, though?” Jin Ling asked.

No one replied. To be honest, no one really knew.

“Maybe one of us should fly over to the island,” Lan Jingyi suggested. “That way we don’t risk the whole boat, but we could get it to do something.”

“And who exactly is going to fly over?” said Jin Ling, skeptical of the suggestion.

“I’m just saying, it’s an idea. Do you have a better one?” said Lan Jingyi.

“It might be worth a try,” Lan Sizhui cut in, “but I don’t like it. We don’t know what the risks are.”

Lan Jingyi shuddered. “Imagine tentacles shooting up to try grabbing whoever flies out,” he said.

“Still, I don’t like just sitting here either,” Lan Sizhui said, frowning as he contemplated their options. “I’ll go,” he said after a few moments of silence.

Xia Luo gritted her teeth as she kept a close eye on the white figure against the night sky. She counted the seconds that passed, her ears tuned to the sounds of the ocean. With each passing moment, the dread that had sloshed around in her stomach since their first outing on the boat the day before rose.

“Don’t fly out too far!” called Lan Jingyi.

Every moment that passed was a moment that surely brought them closer to an encounter with a deep sea beast. Xia Luo’s normally healthy complexion waned until she looked nearly drained of color.

“Hey, I think he’s flying back,” said Jin Ling, nodding towards Lan Sizhui’s flying figure. Around the boat, the fog persisted and held its quarry in position.

“It doesn’t seem to matter how much I’d fly towards the island,” said Lan Sizhui as he landed. “I don’t think I’d ever reach it.”

“Huh? How is that possible?” asked Lan Jingyi.

“It appeared out of nowhere, so there must be a curse on it,” Lan Sizhui replied.

“Didn’t the fisherman say he got close to the island?” said Jin Ling.

“Maybe it only works for boats?” suggested Lan Jingyi.

Xia Luo was about to speak when Shi Yang called out to them and pointed to the other side of the boat.

“There’s the main pier!” he said. “But that’s not right. We haven’t moved since coming to this spot, so it shouldn’t be that close.”

“Shi Yang, look behind us!” one of the men called. When everyone turned to look, they were shocked to see the same pier behind them that had moments before been to their side.

“But we haven’t turned around at all,” said Lan Sizhui.

“Sizhui, we’re surrounded on all sides by the same pier. It doesn’t matter where we look,” said Lan Jingyi after darting back and forth across the deck. “Ooh, it’s a ghost after all! I hate ghosts,” he said, his face scrunching up in dismay.

“It’s possible that our spirit lures really did draw it in, I suppose. It might just have taken some time for the creature to appear,” said Lan Sizhui.

“A spirit might explain this weird fog, and it would fit the whole sea goddess thing,” said Jin Ling.

“That’s true,” agreed Lan Sizhui, though it was with hesitation.

“What should we do, then?” said Lan Jingyi. “Isn’t the next phase the whirlpool bit?”

The group stood silent as it dawned on them that they didn't have a proper plan for dealing with an undersea creature, no matter whether it was a beast or a spirit.

Xia Luo groaned. She wanted to tell the boys that she had known they shouldn’t have come out, but at the moment her efforts were going into keeping her dinner in her stomach where it belonged.

“Wan Shu said the creature sent up tentacles once the whirlpool started, and those tentacles had to come from somewhere. We should be able to locate the creature then,” said Lan Sizhui.

“Alright, say we locate it,” said Jin Ling. “How do we attack it if we can’t see under the water?”

“We should have left this one to Wei Qianbei and Hanguang-jun,” said Lan Jingyi with a whine.

“Wei Wuxian wouldn’t be able to do anything,” said Jin Ling, “his power is only over corpses.”

“He would definitely at least come up with a plan!” Lan Jingyi protested.

“He’s not here, so we need to come up with our own plan!” said Lan Sizhui.

Lan Jingyi looked worried. “Do you think we should just head back to shore and get help?” he asked.

Lan Sizhui called out to Shi Yang. “What are the odds you can navigate back to shore?”

“Honestly, me and the guys have been looking around, and we’re as good as stuck. The pier shows up wherever we look, and even though we haven’t intentionally moved, there’s no guarantee we haven’t been spun around a bit,” he said. “ I can’t say for sure that the direction I’d want to sail is the right one.”

Xia Luo squatted down and held her head.

“Hey, Xia Luo? You okay?” said Lan Jingyi. He knelt down and lightly touched her shoulder. “Maybe you should let your dinner go,” he said. “It should help.”

Jin Ling scoffed. A sharp look from Lan Sizhui kept him from speaking, but it didn’t stop him from rolling his eyes.

With Lan Jingyi’s help, Xia Luo rose to her feet and went to the edge of the boat. Lan Jingyi patted her back and looked away to give her some privacy, but the only thing that accomplished was ensuring that Xia Luo was the first to see the beginnings of what was undeniably the churning rim of a whirlpool.

There was no warning for Lan Jingyi. He yelped as Xia Luo pushed away from the railing and sent him crashing to the deck, his foot caught under hers.

“Whoa, what happened!” cried Lan Sizhui. He scampered over to help pick up Lan Jingyi while Xia Luo stared with eyes as round as gold coins.

“You’re as graceful as an ox,” sniped Jin Ling who shoved his way past Xia Luo to look over the rail. He, too, took two steps back. “Sizhui, the whirlpool started.”

“Hey, young masters!” said Shi Yang. “What do you want us to do?”

Lan Sizhui stared at the rim of the whirlpool that was now clearly defined and continuing to widen.

“Uh, maybe pick a direction and sail towards it. Best if it’s away from the whirlpool,” he said, his tone distracted.

Shi Yang and his men exchanged a look between themselves but didn’t say anything. They had no choice but to trust the young cultivators and assume they knew what they were doing, even if it was to advise beating a hasty retreat. They each had their own feelings about the fact that what Wan Shu had encountered was actually real and not a strange fever dream, and it proving to be real was no comfort.

“Sizhui, what do we do?” asked Lan Jingyi. “If we can’t get the boat away, we might just have to grab the sailors and fly out of here.”

“Let’s not assume it’s a lost cause already,” said Lan Sizhui. “There has to be a way to confront the creature and put an end to this. I have an idea.”

Following his lead, Lan Jingyi quickly began preparing spirit-neutralizing talismans, but he had his doubts.

“We won’t be able to get them to adhere to whatever the creature is,” he said.

“No, but I’m more curious about finding out if this really is a spirit or if it’s a yao beast,” said Lan Sizhui. “This could be a way to do that.”

Xia Luo was still frozen in place, her eyes glued to the growing hole in the ocean’s surface. Like golden leaves in autumn, talismans rained down from where the Lan boys had flown overhead and were swallowed without effect by the whirlpool.

“Now what? I don’t think that proved anything,” said Jin Ling when the others landed.

Lan Sizhui looked worried and dismayed.

“Are you able to get the boat away?” he asked Shi Yang.

“I honestly couldn’t tell you,” the man replied. “I’m not sure if we’re moving or if the whirlpool is moving. The fog is too thick and the mirage of the pier appearing where we look isn’t helping any.”

Mirage.

The word jogged something in Xia Luo’s mind. When she was little, Xia Gongmin had given her a compendium of all the known yao beasts in the major Clan territories. Full of drawings and vivid descriptions, Xia Luo had spent hours hunched over the book reading and drawing her own interpretations of the beasts within it. Whenever Xia Gongmin would take her on Night Hunts, it was her responsibility to run through the compendium to try to deduce what the beast causing problems could be with each new clue they gathered. She hadn’t known it when she was little, but Xia Gongmin had carefully set up each of those early Night Hunts to expose her to as many yao beasts as he could get his hands on. Knowing yao beasts was a Nie Clan specialty, after all.

There are a few beasts that create mirages, and some are only found in the water.

“Don’t just stand there!” Jin Ling said to Xia Luo as he shoved her from her reverie. “You summoned it here, so do something about it!” he shouted in her face. Having him in such close proximity brought the tangy scent of blood from his wet clothes to Xia Luo’s nostrils.

“I… I’m thinking,” she said.

A nasty sneer curled Jin Ling’s lips. “Maybe you should have thought before you threw me into the ocean and condemned this whole boat to sink!” he berated her.

“Jin Ling, don’t!” said Lan Sizhui. “Now is not the time to start fighting again.”

He didn’t get to say more. Something pale and thin reached up from the edge of the whirlpool and snaked across the surface of the ocean towards the boat. With a shudder, the boat tipped sideways and sent the boys toppling over one another as they skidded across the deck. Lan Jingyi was crushed under Jin Ling while Xia Luo was pressed flat by Lan Sizhui who started apologizing profusely.

“You know, I really hate you,” spat Jin Ling. “You’re all talk, but you’re nothing more than a coward when it comes down to it!”

“Guys, can we save this for later?” pleaded Lan Jingyi. “Uh, guys? Look out!”

Another pale tentacle came over the edge of the boat and slung itself over the deck, suckers feeling around.

“Agh! I think it’s looking for live people!” cried Lan Jingyi. “Jin Ling, get off of me!”

“Get on your swords!” cried Lan Sizhui. “We can try to fight it from above. Maybe we can get a view of what it is!”

Before they could find their footing, the boat was rocked once more by a tentacle that wrapped around the mast and pulled.

“Not again!” cried Lan Jingyi in dismay, helpless as he slid across the deck and caught himself on the other railing.

“Watch out!” cried Lan Sizhui to Jin Ling.

Looking over just in time, Jin Ling pushed himself out of the way of a crate that slammed into the rail where he had been a moment before.

“We need to get in the air!” said Lan Sizhui. “Shi Yang, are you and the others alright?”

“We’ve been better, but we’re hanging on!” the man called back. “Do you lads have a plan to get the boat out of here, or is she a lost cause?”

“Working on it!” Lan Sizhui replied. “Xia Luo, where are you?” he asked, casting about for her.

“Here,” came Xia Luo’s strained voice not far from him. 

Lan Sizhui lowered his voice and reached out to her, an expression of sympathy reflected in his warm eyes. “It’s alright, I know you’re scared. We’ve got each other’s backs,” he soothed.

Their hands never made contact.

A tentacle whipped out of the water and slapped down between them. Just as quickly as it landed, it rose again. When Xia Luo looked where Lan Sizhui had been standing, he was no longer there.

“No!” cried Lan Jingyi. “Put him down!”

Held high over the mouth of the whirlpool, Lan Sizhui clutched at the tentacle that was wrapped around him and stared into the swirling hole.

“I can’t see anything down there!” he yelled, as if getting grabbed had been part of his plan all along.

Lan Jingyi was not nearly so calm. “We need to save him! What if it drags him down?” he yelled, frantic.

The image of Lan Sizhui’s fingers only a breath away from her own lit a spark of resolve in Xia Luo.

“Cut off its tentacles,” she said.

Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi looked at her with mixed expressions.

“Won’t that make it angry?” Lan Jingyi asked.

“Cut them off quickly. Make it bleed as much as possible.”

Jin Ling looked disgusted. “You’ve got a fetish.”

“Do it,” Xia Luo snapped, “or I’ll throw you back in!”

“You!” Jin Ling said.

“I don’t have a better idea, so I’ll do it!” said Lan Jingyi. “I’m coming, Sizhui!”

Xia Luo didn’t spare Jin Ling another glance, nor did he look at her before running towards a tentacle that was slithering back into the sea.

Grabbing Lan Sizhui’s sword from the deck, Xia Luo ran past Shi Yang and jumped onto her sword.

“Keep trying to get the boat away from here!” she yelled.

We need to make this thing bleed. If it’s what I think it is, then we can’t kill it on our own. We need something bigger.

The sea roiled and turned over as much as her insides as this new plan came to mind. Below her, Jin Ling was hacking at a tentacle, its erratic movements making it difficult for him to get a clean cut. Ahead of her, Lan Jingyi was struggling to get close to Lan Sizhui amidst the flailing tentacles that lashed out at him.

“How are we supposed to fight this thing in the air?” he cried. “I can’t use my sword to cut it if I’m using it to fly!”

“Just be ready to catch Lan Sizhui!” Xia Luo yelled back.

She held Lan Sizhui’s sword ready, its edge gleaming under the moon’s cold light, then plunged towards the arching tentacle that held Lan Sizhui.

Dread and terror pumped through her veins until they drowned out every other sound around her. The crashing blood in her ears made the sounds of the whirlpool churning beneath her inaudible. Fueled by her primal fear of the endless ocean, Xia Luo caught up the heavy air around her and honed it against the blade of Lan Sizhui’s sword. With a heaving breath, she sent the air-wrapped blade clean through the tentacle holding its master.

Trusting that Lan Jingyi would do his part, Xia Luo let the momentum from her swipe carry her, but she was met with the sound of two voices yelling just as soon as she drew a shaky breath.

Her heart plummeted into the sea when she saw what was happening.

Lan Jingyi had been swiped aside and thrown far away from where he had been prepared to catch Lan Sizhui, and Lan Sizhui was now falling through the air.

He’ll fall into the water , she thought. A quick look at the boat made it clear that Jin Ling was in no position to help him, and Lan Jingyi was doing his best to make it back to the boat and away from the tentacles relentlessly pursuing him.

Lan Sizhui’s wide eyes locked onto Xia Luo’s own terrified ones. One hand reached up towards her. A flash of warmth on the back of Xia Luo’s hand from the memory of Lan Sizhui’s hand on hers so many months ago during their first Night Hunt together shook her into motion.

What good is living as a coward? If he dies because of me, then I should just feed myself to the ocean!

With her heart in her throat, Xia Luo flew at break-neck speed towards the whirlpool, her sights dead set on Lan Sizhui.

Ocean spray soaked Xia Luo and made it difficult to see. Pressing herself down into a low crouch on her sword, she stretched a hand out for Lan Sizhui before a tentacle came crashing down towards her head. With a vicious double handed swipe from Lan Sizhui’s blade, the tentacle went writhing back into the sea with a massive spurt of blood that coated her from head to toe.

Lan Sizhui hit the water like a stone followed swiftly by Xia Luo on Yongyao.

For a moment, there was nothing but the roar of the turgid water and its savage pull against her body. Then, her hand closed around a bunch of fabric and she used the last of her wits to urge Yongyao in the direction she thought would bring them away from their watery grave.

Air exploded back into Xia Luo’s lungs as she burst through the surface and tugged Lan Sizhui onto Yongyao behind her. A pair of shaking hands reached around her waist to hold onto her, the bit of pride Lan Sizhui normally held thrown to the wayside in a show of gratitude and relief at being saved from certain death.

Balancing herself and Lan Sizhui while also wielding his blade, Xia Luo cut a straight line for the boat, cleaving left and right at the infuriated tentacles that swung at them.

Without a shred of grace, the pair hit the deck of the boat and rolled, Xia Luo’s arms wrapped around Lan Sizhui’s head, protecting him from the impact. Yongyao slid across the deck where it was picked up by Lan Jingyi and dragged over to her. Jin Ling fended off a tentacle before also running over to see if Lan Sizhui was alright.

From his position with his head cradled in Xia Luo’s arms and pressed against her chest, Lan Sizhui collected his breath and listened to the rasping, ragged breaths of the youth beneath him.

“Xia Luo,” he said after a moment, “you can let go now. You saved me.”

The arms around him twitched and fell away to drape over Xia Luo’s face, leaving only her mouth and nose in view. With lips downturned, it was plain to Lan Sizhui how distraught Xia Luo was.

“Are you crazy! I thought you were going to die” said Lan Jingyi, tugging at Lan Sizhui to pull him off of Xia Luo so he could pat him over and inspect him.

Jin Ling stared down at Xia Luo who, for the first time since meeting him, looked pitiful.

“Well done, you seriously pissed that thing off,” he commented, his tone unreadable.

“You try fighting a shen ,” said Xia Luo, rolling to her side.

“Huh? There’s no way that’s a shen ,” said Lan Jingyi from where he was still shaking Lan Sizhui.

Xia Luo shook her head. “It’s a different kind. It’s not the shapeshifting dragon sort.”

“What other kind is there?” asked Jin Ling.

“It’s a giant shellfish-like beast that creates mirages .”

The boys were silent.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” said Jin Ling.

“I studied them with my uncle. I just didn’t know they had tentacles like this until now,” Xia Luo said.

“If they didn’t have tentacles when you studied them, then how would you know that’s what it is now?” Jin Ling pressed.

“Because it turns out it’s not really a shellfish at all, but a type of octopus that uses a shell as a means of travel and shelter,” she replied.

Jin Ling looked at her like she was an idiot.

“Let’s say it’s what you say it is,” said Lan Jingyi. “How do we fight it?”

“We don’t,” said Xia Luo. “We let that take care of it.”

The boys frowned and turned in unison to see a massive head breach the water and let out a sound that made them all cover their ears. 

“Oh, we’re going to die!” Lan Jingyi shouted as he hit the deck to avoid a flailing tentacle.

“You’re insane!” Jin Ling roared, then cursed and slashed into a tentacle. “I can’t believe you would summon something bigger! As if the first beast wasn’t enough of a problem to deal with!”

“How would you have tried killing a beast in a shell at the bottom of a whirlpool?” she fired back.

Jin Ling didn’t have a response, so he just cursed and turned away from her.

“Hey, the mirage is gone!” Shi Yang called to the group.

“Sail for shore!” called Lan Sizhui, his breathing still shaky. “We’re done here.”

Behind them, the deafening sounds of one shen attacking another made the hair rise on their bodies. The huge sea dragon slammed its body into the whirlpool and sent water cresting over the deck of the boat as it maneuvered away from the ensuing battle. Only a minute later, large pieces of what had been a massive shell bobbed to the surface of the water when the sea dragon created an upward current with its tail before sinking back into the black water again to consume its prey. 

* * * * *

Under a cold moon, four youths and three sailors greeted the dock with enthusiasm. The sailors picked up sand from the shore and tossed it into the air with a laugh, while Lan Jingyi bounced up and down with excitement.

“Just wait till we tell Wei-qianbei and Hanguang-jun about this! It might not be a Xuanwu of Slaughter, but we fought a real shen !” he said.

“We didn’t fight a real shen ,” said Jin Ling, hands on his hips. “We fought a fake shen and let the real one get away.”

Lan Sizhui gave a small smile. “To be fair, we came here to deal with what was sinking boats, and we did that. If the other shen isn’t causing trouble, then there’s no need to kill it.”

“How do we know it won’t cause problems? It wasn’t here before, was it?” Jin Ling asked.

“No, but Xia Luo seems confident it won’t be any trouble to the fisherman and merchants,” said Lan Sizhui.

“Pfah, Xia Luo says,” Jin Ling mocked him. “I don’t think we should trust someone who uses something that seems awfully similar to demonic cultivation.”

“It has nothing to do with demons or spirits,” Xia Luo interrupted. “You just don’t like my methods because they’re different and they work.”

Jin Ling narrowed his eyes at her. “You used blood to summon beasts.”

“I use blood to attract yao beasts. They behave similarly to any other predatory animal,” replied Xia Luo. “It only makes sense they come to the smell of blood.”

“I saw you make a weird seal in the air! Don’t tell me that wasn’t some sort of deviant cultivation method!” Jin Ling puffed, getting up in her face.

Xia Luo brushed him away. “It’s no different from the spirit lure flags Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi used. It just uses blood as a medium.”

“I don’t trust you,” Jin Ling said, his eyes glinting at her in the dark.

“Hey, let’s all take a step back and be happy we accomplished the Night Hunt,” said Lan Sizhui. “Besides, I have Xia Luo to thank for being able to stand here with you guys, anyway.”

Lan Sizhui turned to Xia Luo and cupped his hands at her in gratitude.

“You saved my life. I owe you,” he said.

“Just don’t ever make me get on a boat again,” Xia Luo replied, to which Lan Sizhui broke into a big smile.

Once the group returned to the inn and washed up, Xia Luo fell asleep with her arm hugging her waist, the memory of Lan Sizhui’s arms wrapped around her both comforting and confusing. Despite the feeling of embrace, Xia Luo slept poorly. More than once she woke up feeling like she was falling through the bed and into the ocean before terror would well up and wake her from her sleep. After the fourth instance, Xia Luo couldn’t take it anymore. She rolled carefully from the bed and slipped out of the room.

In the early dawn, the first of the inn’s staff were rising to prepare breakfast and set the main hall for that day’s arrivals and departures. From where Xia Luo stood on the second floor, she could watch the quiet bustle of the staff that — with a pang in her chest —reminded her of home.

Although Xia Luo had stopped thinking of the Xia residence as home, she couldn’t simply erase the life she had lived there and the familiarity the memories provided. Though she might have found a somewhat comfortable balance at the Cloud Recesses, her stay there was temporary and would come to an end in half a year’s time. She couldn’t help but wonder what she would do then.

“What are you doing,” came a voice from behind her.

Xia Luo flicked her gaze over and caught a glimpse of gold-tipped boots.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said, turning her attention back to the coming and going of workers.

Jin Ling glanced over the rail to see what she was looking at. The two stood there in silence and watched the staff at work, one with detached interest, the other with absolute indifference.

“You know, I really don’t understand you,” Jin Ling finally said. “You have a terrible personality and a worse temper, but those two still stick around you.”

“Jealous?” was all Xia Luo said.

“No, I just don’t get it. You say whatever you want without any regard for your lowly position, and you do whatever you want without considering what anyone else thinks,” Jin Ling said, facing her.

Xia Luo scoffed. “You do the same thing. Except you think your position grants you the right.”

Jin Ling gripped the railing with one hand. “What’s your deal?”

With a sigh, Xia Luo turned her head to look at him. “I just don’t like you. I think you’re annoying, whiny, and too dependent on an uncle who couldn’t possibly be giving you the best advice, no matter how much he thinks he is. You hide behind his skirts, and it’s infuriating.”

“Just because my jiujiu —” Jin Ling started.

Xia Luo put up a hand. “You’ve misunderstood. I’m not envious of you.”

Jin Ling glowered at Xia Luo. “You’ll get yourself into trouble one day and no one is going to want to help you,” he said.

Xia Luo looked back over the rail at the inn’s staff. “Maybe,” she breathed.

Chapter Text

“Wei-qianbei will be really happy to see you,” Lan Sizhui said to Jin Ling as the group crossed the far side of the Recesses to where Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji lived.

Jin Ling shrugged. “It’s not like I’m coming here just to see him.”

“Isn’t coming here out of the way for you?” asked Lan Jingyi.

Jin Ling shot him a look. “I want to hear what Hanguang-jun has to say about the shen . I still don’t think it’s actually an octopus hiding in a shell.”

“What else could it be?” Lan Jingyi retorted. “I mean, maybe a squid, but then it wouldn’t really fit into a shell.”

“Who says it was even in a shell? It’s not like we could see it to prove there was a shell at all,” Jin Ling countered.

Lan Sizhui shook his head and smiled. Beside him, Xia Luo kept pace with him, her gaze downcast.

“Are you feeling better now that the sea is well behind us?” he asked her.

“A bit,” she replied, not looking up.

“Hm,” said Lan Sizhui. He knew Xia Luo had slept badly, because when he woke once in the night he heard her gasp and sit up in bed. She had held her head in her hands like she had on the boat and groaned quietly out of frustration. It was obvious that wasn’t the first time she had woken up like that that night. But Xia Luo was not one to be pushed to speak, so Lan Sizhui didn’t press the matter. Besides, no one liked to be reminded that others were aware of their weaknesses, and to someone like Xia Luo who was under a lot of pressure to be everything her father had been, that was especially true. Instead, Lan Sizhui decided to play up Xia Luo’s strengths when recounting the events of the Night Hunt to Hanguang-jun.

They had hardly knocked on the door before Wei Wuxian came barreling through the doorway in a rush of anxiety and excitement to see them. He patted the two Lan boys on their heads with great affection before he noticed Jin Ling standing off to the side with Xia Luo. Well, he wasn’t next to Xia Luo so much as the two were just standing off to the side of where the greetings were taking place. There was a healthy distance between them.

“Jin Ling!” he chirped, his eyes sparkling. “Why are you here? What did Sizhui say that made you come?”

Jin Ling crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “He didn’t say anything. I just wanted to be here for when they gave the report.”

“Ah, you wanted to supervise!” Wei Wuxian grinned. “Just what a Clan leader ought to do!”

Xia Luo stopped paying attention to the encounter between uncle and nephew when Lan Wangji stepped through the door. Even though she was a considerable distance away, she still cupped her hands in greeting when the Lan boys did. A slight tilt of his head was all Lan Sizhui needed to know it was his turn to speak.

“Hanguang-jun, we were successful in our mission. It turned out that the offending creature was a shen , the mirage-making sort,” he reported.

“We thought it was a spirit at first, though,” said Lan Jingyi, eager to start at the beginning and give all the details.

“Xia Luo, how did it go?” said Wei Wuxian, appearing at Xia Luo’s elbow. He threw a casual arm over her shoulder like they were old friends.

“Uh, fine,” Xia Luo replied, disconcerted by this show of familiarity.

“Great! I have something I want to ask you, but it would be better said privately,” said Wei Wuxian. He tightened his hold around Xia Luo’s shoulders and nudged her forward.

“Lan Zhan, I’m going to get the story from Xia Luo, okay?” he called to Lan Wangji. Without waiting for a response, he steered Xia Luo away so he could talk in a low voice without being heard by the others.

Lan Jingyi’s voice, on the other hand, reached them clearly. He was currently explaining in vivid detail how Xia Luo’s plan to use blood at two separate times was key to their success on the Night Hunt.

Xia Luo shrugged Wei Wuxian’s arm off and established some space for herself. She stood facing him, apprehension knitted into her brows and stitched across her forehead.

“Hey, don’t worry, you’re not in trouble or anything. I just wanted to talk,” Wei Wuxian assured her. The look he received told him Xia Luo would rather be in trouble than have to suffer his antics.

“Well, you can take it however you like, but I have a serious question for you,” he continued. “Have you been seeing anyone lately?”

Xia Luo blinked in confusion. “What?”

“Have you been meeting with anyone recently,” Wei Wuxian tried as a second attempt.

“Meeting with someone? No, who would I be meeting with?” Xia Luo asked.

Wei Wuxian rubbed his nose, looked behind him to see if anyone was watching them, then leaned in.

“Who is she?” he asked.

“Who?”

“The girl you’re seeing.”

Xia Luo frowned. “I’m not seeing a girl.”

Wei Wuxian let out a huff. “I’m giving you the chance to come clean about it, Xia Luo. Just tell me. Have you been seeing a girl?”

“What girl would I possibly be seeing?” asked Xia Luo, wondering why he would be asking her these questions.

“So you’re saying you aren’t seeing any girls in town,” said Wei Wuxian.

“I’ve never seen one,” said Xia Luo, her tone dry.

Wei Wuxian drew in a deep breath. “Let me be more direct. You’re old enough to feel the need to explore, but it’s not a great look given that you’re here for training and all.”

Still slow to catch on to what he was getting at, Xia Luo only stared at him.

“Are you having sex with anyone in town?” asked Wei Wuxian. If Nie Mingjue had been a blunt and direct man, then maybe his son was the same, he thought.

One pair of eyebrows shot up while the other held firm.

“Are you seriously asking me this?” said Xia Luo, unsure if she should be scandalized or amused.

“I am,” said Wei Wuxian. “I need to know if you are.”

“Have you asked Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui this, too?”

“No, I don’t need to,” said Wei Wuxian.

Xia Luo snorted. “Fair enough, but why ask me?”

“Because I know you’re seeing someone,” Wei Wuxian said.

“I’m sorry, but you’re mistaken,” said Xia Luo with a shake of her head.

“So you’re not having sex with anyone in town? What about outside of town?” pressed Wei Wuxian.

“No,” said Xia Luo, amusement and annoyance mixing together in her voice.

Wei Wuxian’s expression darkened. “Xia Luo, you know that going to the other side of the mountain is prohibited. If someone were to catch you, you would most likely be removed from the Recesses, and that’s not something you can easily keep from affecting your reputation.”

Xia Luo finally understood. “You think I’m sneaking over to have sex with a Lan girl,” she intoned.

What a pity I wasn’t born a boy! Even grown men think I have no trouble with girls! Ah, too bad I’d have nothing but problems if I were to look for a husband in this life.

“So you are,” said Wei Wuxian with a note of triumph.

“Uh, no. I am not,” said Xia Luo, expression flattening.

“Xia Luo, just come clean. If you tell me, then I will keep it between us and we’ll leave it at that. If I have to keep pressing you for the truth, then I’ll involve Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen,” said Wei Wuxian with an air of authority.

“Look, I don’t know why you think I’m having sex with someone, but you’ve got it wrong,” said Xia Luo. “I came here to study cultivation. That’s all I’m doing.” She was ready to walk away and end the interrogation, but Wei Wuxian wasn’t finished. A hand gripped her shoulder and kept her from leaving.

“Who are you seeing?” Wei Wuxian demanded.

“I’m not seeing anyone,” said Xia Luo, her temper flaring. “Why would I waste my time looking for a relationship when dealing with training and that lot is enough?” she snapped, jutting her chin out to indicate the other juniors who were still talking with Lan Wangji.

“You forced my hand,” Wei Wuxian sighed before pulling a small vial from his sleeve.

Xia Luo couldn’t stop a flash of shock from crossing her face.

“I knew it!” Wei Wuxian said in a triumphant whisper.

“You went into my room,” Xia Luo said. “You went through my personal belongings.”

“So you don’t deny this is yours,” said Wei Wuxian.

Xia Luo was speechless, not out of surprise or anxiousness, but out of indignation.

“You went digging through my room. Why?” she demanded.

“That’s not the issue at hand,” said Wei Wuxian. “Right now, I need to know who you’re trying to keep from getting pregnant.”

Enough was enough. Xia Luo had a lot of patience, but this man had used up his share. She snatched at the vial but only got a fistful of air. Vial wagging between his fingers, Wei Wuxian clicked his tongue and shook his head in disapproval from a few paces away.

“Don’t get grabby,” he tutted. “Even if you got this vial back, I’d still be able to tell Lan Zhan about it and have him punish you.”

“Yeah?” said Xia Luo, darting at him again. “And how exactly would he feel about you snooping through a junior’s room for no reason?”

Light as air, Wei Wuxian danced backwards again, Chenqing swinging at his hip. His eyes gleamed. He should have been more upset that a junior was engaging him, but he couldn’t help but enjoy the encounter.

“That’s not my worry,” he said, utterly cavalier.

“It should be,” said Xia Luo with another swipe. This time, Wei Wuxian dodged her move and rapped her on the head for good measure.

“Don’t get presumptuous,” he chided. “You’re still in training.”

Xia Luo’s lip curled. After the events at sea and the new nightmares they brought, she was in no mood for banter. All she wanted was her vial back and for Wei Wuxian to mind his own business.

“Tell me who you’re seeing,” Wei Wuxian repeated, returning to his original line of questioning.

“No one!” shouted Xia Luo. She was on the offensive, lunging and grabbing for the vial, but each move she made brought her no closer to her goal. A sound came up in her throat that was full of anger. The next swipe she made wasn’t for the vial but at Wei Wuxian’s face.

“Woah!” he said, jumping backwards to avoid her curled fingers. He hadn’t expected Xia Luo to lash out at him, but now that it had happened, a bit of the old Wei Wuxian came to the surface.

“Don’t you have any respect for your elders?” he asked, flicking the vial into his sleeve and drawing Chenqing from his belt. “You do know who I was in my former life, right?”

Xia Luo glared at him and pounced. “Past glories,” she growled.

The two met and exchanged a few blows, Xia Luo with her bare hands and Wei Wuxian with Chenqing, the sound of wood against knuckles audible only to them.

This kid really is indifferent to status! He’s completely irreverent! thought Wei Wuxian. Maybe we’d have been friends in my past life!

“Tell me who you’re sleeping with!” he said once again, darting in to jab at various pressure points.

Xia Luo grimaced but managed to dodge enough that Wei Wuxian didn’t land on any acupoints. Yongyao hung heavy at her hip, but even in her anger she had the good sense not to draw it. Instead, she pulled her fan from her bracer and parried Chenqing.

Faced with a basic weapon, Wei Wuxian decided that it was time to put this junior in his place. Even if it was only a fan, the fact still stood that Xia Luo had drawn something to face him in combat, and he couldn’t let that slide.

Chenqing moved in a blur to jab and swipe at Xia Luo while Wei Wuxian himself managed to continually move out of range of any retaliatory blows. He was hitting hard enough that Xia Luo would no doubt bruise or have welts from Chenqing, but not hard enough to break bones or skin.

Wei Wuxian was like a biting fly around a bull’s head. Red colored the edges of Xia Luo’s vision. She had never experienced anything more infuriating than this in her life. Rage affected her decisions, and instead of fully dodging a swing from Chenqing, she took the hit so she could take advantage of an opening and get under Wei Wuxian’s guard.

Blood oozed from her split lip, but Xia Luo didn’t stop to attend to it. Wei Wuxian realized in that moment that the longer this back and forth went on, the more irrational Xia Luo would become and the more she would open herself up to injury if it meant getting even with him.

“Kid, this isn’t personal,” he said, both in warning and out of sincere concern. He feinted with Chenqing and slammed an open palm against Xia Luo’s chest. With a thud, the youth hit the ground and found herself trapped under Wei Wuxian’s full weight. One hand gripped each of her wrists and crushed them against the ground.

“Tell me who you’re involved with!” Wei Wuxian hissed.

Xia Luo snarled at him.

Wei Wuxian pressed down harder against Xia Luo’s struggles.

“Who’s period are you stopping!” he demanded.

Xia Luo scowled so deeply that Wei Wuxian could have sworn he saw her father’s ghost take over her features. She spat, defiance dripping from the word like the blood from her lip.

“Mine.”

Wei Wuxian’s expression went blank. “Wait, what? But that would mean…” he said.

He didn’t get the chance to finish. Xia Luo wrenched her hands free from his grasp, her fan flicking open to expose its bladed edge. At the same moment that understanding dawned on Wei Wuxian, the blade met his torso and sliced through his robes. With a gasp, he tumbled back, one hand reaching out for the fan to disarm Xia Luo. All he came away with was the jade pendant made of the melded tiger and ox halves, the bronze silk tassel dangling from his fist.

Shock kept him on the ground, one hand propping himself up while the other pointed vaguely at Xia Luo who was picking herself up.

“So you’re really —” he said, wide-eyed.

“Unbelievable, I know,” Xia Luo spat. Anger still drove her words, but now there was a tinge of self-loathing within them.

Everything suddenly made sense to Wei Wuxian.

Before he could say anything else, a voice calling his name brought both him and Xia Luo back to their present situation.

Lan Wangji appeared by Wei Wuxian’s side, concern written all over his face. He tugged open the torn robes to inspect the clean cut across his ribs before turning a look of icy death on Xia Luo.

Tell him. Have me expelled. Do it! She willed Wei Wuxian, eyes flashing in defiance.

“Lan Zhan, it was my fault!” cried Wei Wuxian, reaching up to turn his husband’s face towards him again.

“He pulled his blade on you,” said Lan Wangji, cold fury in his voice.

“No, he didn’t! Look, Yongyao is still at his hip!” Wei Wuxian said. Sure enough, Yongyao had never left its sheath. All Xia Luo had in her hand was a fan, but it was closed and looked about as deadly as any of Nie Huaisang’s fans, which was to say not at all.

Fortunately for Xia Luo, her fan’s blade was so fine and sharp that it cut through Wei Wuxian with such speed that it hadn’t gotten any of his blood on it. If anything, it was Xia Luo who was bleeding from a split lip. Given that Wei Wuxian was still holding Chenqing in the hand that was propping him up, it was clear that the scuffle had been two-sided.

“Lan Zhan, I promise I’ll tell you everything, but you can’t take this out on Xia Luo, alright?” Wei Wuxian insisted, a gentle pleading in his voice.

Off to the side, the other juniors had gathered and were staring with their mouths open at the scene before them. Lan Jingyi looked like he was vindicated in thinking Xia Luo was crazy, but he also looked like he thought she was the most intense person he had ever met. Lan Sizhui looked worried as usual, while Jin Ling looked completely taken aback. So far, the worst he had gotten from Xia Luo was a dunking in the sea and some dirt in his face. He realized now that he had never properly faced Xia Luo, and that if Xia Luo ever made good on her word, then he would have quite the force to contend with. All of the juniors shared one thought in the end: Xia Luo was made of something else to go after the Yiling Patriarch.

“I don’t need the story,” said Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian caught him by the sleeve of his robe to keep him from standing.

“You don’t understand,” said Wei Wuxian, tugging on the sleeve. “Besides, he didn’t get me too bad, look! It looks worse than it is, really!”

Lan Wangji passed a scrutinizing gaze over Wei Wuxian and his injury. “You’re certain?” he asked.

Wei Wuxian nodded vigorously. “I’m very sure! Now let’s just go clean me up and leave it at that, alright?”

“There must be punishment,” said Lan Wangji.

“Right, of course. Let your brother handle it,” said Wei Wuxian. “Xia Luo is his disciple and martial niece… uh, nephew. Martial nephew!”

Lan Wangji scooped Wei Wuxian into his arms and faced Xia Luo. “My brother will determine what should happen. Go to your room and wait. Lan Jingyi, go and tell Xiongxiang that I will come to see him shortly.”

Lan Jingyi started off immediately and kept throwing glances back at Xia Luo until he was out of sight. Wei Wuxian still had some more to say, however. He held out his closed hand and waved it at Xia Luo.

“I’m keeping this!” he said triumphantly, as though he had won some great prize. From his hand hung the pendant and tassel he had pulled from Xia Luo’s fan.

Xia Luo scowled. “Go ahead! It was broken anyway, so it’s useless,” she said, defiance in her words and stance. Contempt dripped from her lips with each drop of blood that fell.

Lan Wangji snapped his head around to stare at her, but Wei Wuxian’s gloating voice pulled him back.

“Fine, then I’ll keep it and make it a talisman for myself!” he goaded.

“Wei Ying,” said Lan Wangji in a complicated tone as he carried him away.

Xia Luo turned away from him and flicked her fan open and closed. It had been some time since she had freely played with her fan, and the familiarity of it helped calm her down. She didn’t make it three steps before she was stopped by both Lan Sizhui and Jin Ling, however.

“What the hell was that?” Jin Ling demanded. “Are you insane? You really are exactly how I said when we were at the inn!”

“What would make you engage in combat with Wei-qianbei?” asked Lan Sizhui. “Xia Luo, I know you have a short temper, so he must have said something, but still.”

“You actually fought with him!” Jin Ling said, blocking Xia Luo’s path. “You actually cut him.”

“He wasn’t armed,” Lan Sizhui worried aloud, “how could you draw your blade?”

“I didn’t. And he was armed with his flute. He split my lip with it,” Xia Luo countered.

The boys were silent.

“How did you manage to cut him, then?” asked Jin Ling, suspicious.

Xia Luo snapped her fan shut and blinked at him. “Doesn’t matter. Anyway, don’t you have a Sect to run?”

Jin Ling was not even a year older than Xia Luo, but he held the responsibilities of a Sect leader. Being reminded of his duties, especially by someone younger than himself did not do anything to endear Xia Luo to him.

“We should get you back to your room,” said Lan Sizhui. “Jin Ling, I’d be happy to keep you company after that if you plan on staying for a bit.”

“No, I should go,” said Jin Ling. “I don’t have any other business here.”

“Will you come on the next Night Hunt with us?” asked Lan Sizhui.

“Who knows,” Jin Ling said, aloof. “I’d rather not be around him , so it’s hard to say.”

Lan Sizhui sighed. He hadn’t expected any miraculous change between the two, but he had hoped they would have become a bit less hostile to each other during this Night Hunt.

“Alright,” he said. “I can at least see you out, then.”

“No need,” Jin Ling said. “I know the way.”

Xia Luo and Lan Sizhui watched Jin Ling traipse away, his golden robes fluttering behind him.

“Priss,” said Xia Luo under her breath, then followed Lan Sizhui back to her room where she sat and waited. It’s all finally falling down , she thought to herself.

* * * * *

Wei Wuxian did not, in fact, tell Lan Wangji everything. He told him that he had taken it upon himself to try to cause Xia Luo to qi deviate, but instead of deviating he had only caused her to lash out in frustration. He didn’t mention the herbs, nor did he mention the revelation of Xia Luo’s gender, and when it came time to speak with Lan Xichen, Wei Wuxian insisted he be the one to speak with him.

“I can’t believe he would do this,” Lan Xichen lamented, his brows creased deep in consternation.

“It really was my fault,” insisted Wei Wuxian. “There was always the risk that Xia Luo would retaliate in the face of such provocation, so you really shouldn’t hold him responsible.”

“Those were still voluntary actions,” said Lan Xichen. “I can’t let this go unpunished. What has Wangji said?”

Wei Wuxian made an offhanded gesture and rolled his eyes. “You know how he is, he’s so protective. He was upset, but he agreed to let me have my say in speaking with you. I guess he said the same things you’re saying now.”

“Then expulsion is the way to deal with this,” Lan Xichen said with a sigh.

“No! You can’t expel him!” cried Wei Wuxian, practically jumping from his seat. He winced and held his side, then settled back into his seat.

“Xichen, you can’t expel him.”

Lan Xichen never knew how to handle Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji was much better at understanding this man than he was, but he did know that Wei Wuxian had strong instincts and gut feelings that were often right.

“And why not?” he asked.

“If you want to see this kid make it, then you can’t send her… uh, him, away,” said Wei Wuxian.

“Are you saying he would die?” asked Lan Xichen, puzzled. “I know he is vulnerable to qi deviation, but this is the second time he has attacked someone in the Recesses.”

“The first time was a minor deviation and the second time was my fault!” Wei Wuxian persisted. “Please, whatever you do, just don’t send him away. I think I learned something in this encounter that will be very helpful to us in figuring out how to deal with the disruptions in the future, and in preventing deviations.” He was trying everything he could to vouch for Xia Luo while keeping her secret hidden.

“Oh? What did you learn?” asked Lan Xichen, his sympathy for Xia Luo’s condition overriding his ingrained need to dole out justice.

“I… I can’t tell you.”

Lan Xichen pinched the bridge of his nose. “Wei Wuxian,” he sighed.

“You just have to trust me on this one, okay? Besides, there’s no way you can send your martial nephew away,” he said, almost saying niece in place of nephew again.

“Very well,” said Lan Xichen, exasperation tingeing his words. “You were right before, on things with much greater stakes, so I will trust you this time.”

“Ah, thank you!” said Wei Wuxian, beaming. “I’ll make sure you don’t regret it!”

The past sat heavy behind Lan Xichen’s eyes. “Don’t promise me things like that,” he said.

* * * * *

Xia Luo entered the Cold Room fully expecting to be expelled from the mountain and exposed for what she was. She didn’t see how there was any way Lan Xichen would decide on any other punishment besides expulsion, and so she faced him with pride and defiance sparkling dimly in her eyes. There was no telling what would come next for her, but at least she could boast to herself that she had fought the Yiling Patriarch one on one and come out on top.

Lan Xichen listened to the footsteps he had become so accustomed to hearing enter his space until Xia Luo stood a respectful distance from him. Sleeves fluttering, Xia Luo raised her arms and bowed deeply to Lan Xichen. Though she executed the gesture with the expected level of respect, Lan Xichen did not note any hesitation or anxiety. It was as though Xia Luo were entirely unafraid of the punishment that awaited her.

“Xia Luo,” Lan Xichen began, “I have been informed of the incident with Wei Wuxian by Wei Wuxian himself. What do you have to say?”

There was no hiding the flame that flickered in Xia Luo’s eyes. “If he has told you everything, then there is nothing more to say,” she said.

In truth, she felt sorry for her martial uncle. She might have liked to say something to ease the blow for him, but she couldn’t very well apologize for being born a girl.

“I am willing to hear your side of the story,” Lan Xichen said.

Xia Luo wrinkled her nose slightly. “There’s nothing to apologize for,” she said.

Lan Xichen looked a bit baffled. “Nothing? Xia Luo, you injured Wei Wuxian after engaging him in combat. Fighting outside of training is prohibited, you know this.”

Now it was Xia Luo’s turn to be baffled. “You’re concerned about that?” she asked, disbelieving.

“Of course,” said Lan Xichen, “that is what this is all about. Do not look proud, either, Xia Luo, I see it in your eyes,” he admonished.

A sound of disbelief escaped Xia Luo’s lips. “What exactly did he tell you?”

“I would rather hear the turn of events from your perspective first,” Lan Xichen said. He continued after seeing the bemused look on Xia Luo’s face.

“Surely there was something about your interaction with Wei Wuxian that spurred you into action. I would hope it was not unprovoked,” he said, giving her the opportunity to open up.

“Of course it was provoked,” said Xia Luo, indignation in her voice. “He went through my room and went through my things. He took something and held it over me, but you already know that.”

“He what? He went through your room?” said Lan Xichen, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, didn’t he tell you? You said he told you everything,” said Xia Luo.

“He did not tell me that last part,” said Lan Xichen. “Why would he go through your room?”

“That’s what I wanted to know!”

“You said he took something. What did he take?” Lan Xichen asked.

Xia Luo caught her next words before they left her mouth.

Does he really not know? Did Wei Wuxian not tell him anything?

“Uh, it wasn’t anything important. It was the fact that he went through my things,” Xia Luo muttered, the defiance in her cooling down.

“You said he threatened to hold it over you,” said Lan Xichen, gently prodding her into volunteering the information.

Damn, why does he listen to everything I say? Muqin only heard every other word when I would speak.

Still uncertain about how to proceed, Xia Luo opted for a partial truth. “He took some herbs,” she admitted.

“Herbs? What kind of herbs would he feel the need to confiscate?” pondered Lan Xichen.

Xia Luo finally looked uncomfortable.

Dismay washed over Lan Xichen’s face. “Xia Luo, tell me you are not taking drugs.”

“What? No!” cried Xia Luo.

“Promise me, shizhi ,” he said, leaning forward on his desk to pierce her with a gaze full of desperation.

“I promise. I would never,” Xia Luo assured, her tone solemn.

Lan Xichen let out an exhale and sat back. “I believe you. You have not lied to me before, so I extend to you this trust. Very well. If not drugs, then what herbs are you taking?”

Xia Luo shuffled a bit and thought as quickly as she could. “I didn’t want to say anything, but they’re performance enhancing herbs,” she said, trying her best to sound self-conscious.

It’s not a lie, she thought. Not bleeding is certainly an enhancement for performance.

“Xia Luo, you don’t need those,” Lan Xichen said, his voice soft. “You are blessed with physical strength and a body that obeys you. I have been told of the way you train and how hard you work to always improve yourself. You already do everything you ought to do in order to grow as a cultivator, so there is no need for those kinds of herbs.”

“Yes, shishu ,” Xia Luo mumbled. She still wasn’t used to addressing Lan Xichen with this term, but it seemed like the right moment to use it. He had referred to her with an equivalent term, so she hoped it would strike the right chord.

I still don’t get why he’s so invested. After that nightmare meditation we did, I thought he would keep his distance. I don’t deserve his worry or concern.

“Alright. Well, that bit is settled, then. I will have to punish you for injuring an elder in combat, but I won’t expel you from the Cloud Recesses. I will also have a talk with Wei Wuxian about leaving out important details when recounting events,” said Lan Xichen.

Xia Luo stifled an ironic laugh and listened to Lan Xichen extoll her positive traits a bit more before being released back to her room. If there was one thing she took from the whole event, it was that she needed a better hiding place for her herbs.

Chapter Text

The next day, Xia Luo was greeted by Lan Xichen’s apologetic smile when she sat down across from him for her daily lessons.

“I am abashed to say that I have been informed of something, and I can not let it go without inquiry,” he said.

Xia Luo’s stomach flipped. He wouldn’t be smiling like this if Wei Wuxian told him my secret after we met yesterday , she told herself, trying to keep a calm expression.

“I am told that you possess an instrument, a hulusi to be exact. Do you play?” he asked. Even when the evidence pointed to the obvious, Lan Xichen still refused to assume anything.

“Mm-hm,” said Xia Luo, relief replacing the spike of anxiety, though irritation at Wei Wuxian gnawed at the edges of that relief. “I’m out of practice, though.”

“You should have said so sooner! Music is a wonderful way to soothe the mind and spirit. It has been a while since I have properly played Liebing. This might benefit us both,” Lan Xichen said, half thinking out loud to himself. “Yes, bring your hulusi with you tomorrow, and we can incorporate that into your lessons.”

As per Lan Xichen’s request, Xia Luo brought her hulusi with her to the next lesson, much to the great intrigue of Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui. Neither of them could believe that Nie Mingjue’s son had been raised playing an instrument, let alone the hulusi.

“Well, it’s not like it’s the pipa,” joked Lan Jingyi, earning him an elbow to the ribs from Lan Sizhui.

“Ah, a beautiful instrument,” remarked Lan Xichen when Xia Luo pulled the hulusi from its case. “Does it have a name?”

Xia Luo shook her head.

“Please, play something,” Lan Xichen said in invitation, expectation and a glimmer of something Xia Luo couldn’t name in his eyes.

Never one to deliver a mediocre performance, Xia Luo picked a simple tune that relied more on the player’s ability to produce a delicate sound. If her fighting style was the clang of bronze and the scent of iron, then her playing was a burbling brook and the gentle waft of osmanthus on the breeze. Even after a number of months without practice, Xia Luo’s fingers remembered the motions and her spirit recalled the feeling of flight. In her heart, the violet cuckoos her mother kept caged in her garden took wing and vanished into a swirl of bamboo leaves on the wind.

When she was finished, Xia Luo lowered the instrument and blinked her eyes open, stillness easing the almost permanent crease between her brows. Suddenly bashful at the realization that she had played for the Lan Clan leader and her martial uncle, she glanced up in time to see Lan Xichen lower a delicate hand from where he had wiped a tear from his lashes.

“Xia Luo, you might not have known before, but you have forged a bond with this instrument. It asks of you a name in return for its commitment to you,” he said, his voice soft.

Xia Luo didn’t know what to do, nor could spare a thought for naming her instrument.

I made him cry , she thought. Everything I do only makes him feel worse!

“If you wouldn’t mind,” she practically mumbled, hoping politeness would deflect attention from her suddenly turbulent thoughts, “you could name it.”

Lan Xichen’s eyes widened, then creased with happiness that had long been suppressed. It only took him a moment before he had a name.

“Yiqing ,” said Lan Xichen, “for the way it speaks for you and reaches others.”

* * * * *

The rest of summer passed in this way. Xia Luo spent her evenings with Lan Xichen where they played songs together and developed the beginnings of a proper cultivation method for Xia Luo and her hulusi while Jin Ling was left wondering if Hanguang-jun had simply killed her for laying a hand on Wei Wuxian. Word never reached the other disciples about what had happened, and while Lan Wangji would cast a second glance her way whenever she would come by with Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi, he did nothing more to show that he hadn’t forgotten the incident.

It wasn’t until one bright day in autumn when all the leaves in Gusu were brilliant shades of gold, orange, and vermillion that something changed.

Although Xia Luo had hardly grown more talkative with Lan Xichen, he had begun to speak more and tell stories of his younger years. He had recounted tales of his childhood in an effort to draw Xia Luo into conversation, and recalled memories of meeting the Nie brothers as a teen. Xia Luo took everything in with subdued enthusiasm, her interest in what he had to say dampened by self-loathing. No matter how much Lan Xichen seemed to appreciate her arrival in his life, Xia Luo could not be convinced.

Today, after a short story detailing Nie Mingjue’s visit to the Cloud Recesses to chastise his younger brother for his paltry grades, Lan Xichen initiated a song on Liebing. He had long since noticed that Xia Luo seemed most comfortable around him when they were playing music together, and given that he had named her hulusi for its ability to convey emotions that Xia Luo was otherwise too guarded to make known, he never saw it as the lesser option.

After the first song, Lan Xichen lowered Liebing and looked at Xia Luo who had her eyes closed, waiting for the next note. For perhaps the thousandth time, Lan Xichen was blown away by how much Xia Luo looked like Nie Mingjue. If there was a difference to see, it was in the softer curve of Xia Luo’s jaw and the less pronounced jut of her chin. Had Lan Xichen known Xia Luo was actually a girl, these differences would have made perfect sense, but as it stood, he simply figured the mother’s traits had affected the final outcome.

“Xia Luo,” he said, watching a pair of hawk eyes blink open through a curtain of bangs. “Play for me, and I will tell you some stories about your father. I think it’s time you learned more about the kind of man he was, and what his final years were like.”

Words failed Xia Luo and she hardly managed to nod in the face of this sudden offer. Of all the things Lan Xichen had told her about her father, he had thus far stayed well away from talk of the time leading up to his death.

“Play, and I will tell you,” he said.

* * * * *

Nie Mingjue had just had a deviation. While it wasn’t a remarkably bad one, I was still worried. I decided I should talk to him about it to see how we might proceed.

“They’re not getting worse,” said Nie Mingjue in response to me pointing out that they were, in fact, getting worse.

“If they’re not getting worse, then what would you say is going on, exactly?” I pressed.

“It’s all a matter of how I have to deal with them, that’s all,” he insisted.

“Mingjue, these deviations aren’t an evolving enemy that you can train to defeat. You must accept that they simply get worse, and in the end, it is going to come down to your cultivation,” I said to him.

He looked upset, and tried to put me off by telling me I didn’t understand.

“I am a man of the dirt, Xichen, of blood and of battle. You are of the arts, of fresh snow, and clear water. Tell me how you would go about changing your own cultivation to be like me. Now, tell me how I could possibly change mine to be like you,” he said.

I hadn’t wanted to upset him, of course, but I felt concerned at the way the Nie Clan leaders all seemed to die young from qi deviations. Everything I could gather up until that point indicated that the cultivation method itself was flawed and put them in danger from the start. I also knew how touchy such a subject was, so I was not surprised by his resistance, though I was dismayed. I felt that if I did not push the matter, he would die even younger than his father had, and I could not bear that possibility.

“I respect you as a sworn brother, Xichen, but you can’t possibly understand what I’m going through,” continued Nie Mingjue. “In the Nie Clan, it’s all about strength, and these minor deviations are just signs of weakness that need to be fought through. Had it not been for Wen Ruohan affecting my father during that Night Hunt, I’m sure my father would have lived for much longer. I just have to find what's affecting me.”

“But what if it really is your cultivation? I do not disagree that Wen Ruohan’s involvement sped up the process, but even still you say it would have been eventual. Does that not bother you?” I asked.

Nie Mingjue shook his head, his ponytail angrily whipping the air behind him. “My grandfather didn’t die nearly so young. Besides, this is the Nie way. I knew from a young age what lay in my future, and I never balked from it. I’m not afraid to die young.”

Aggrieved, I kept at it. “This should bother you! Mingjue, I am bothered for you! To hear one day in the next few years, ten years, that you succumbed to a qi deviation… it would be too much.”

Your father had a softness in him that few people saw. It was there for his younger brother, and it was there when I fretted. That time was no different.

“Xichen,” he said, his voice clear of the gruffness it usually held.

“I just wish there was more I could do. I am glad that Jin Guangyao is able to come play for you and that the song soothes you, but I wish I could be the one to play for you instead,” I admitted.

“I wish it was you playing for me, too. It isn’t the same when he plays for me,” he said, the scowl always present on his face smoothed over.

I put a hand on his shoulder, wanting to show him I was really there, that I truly cared. The whole matter was stressful, and I was so nervous he would suffer a sudden, more serious deviation.

“I just wish there was more I could do,” I said again.

It was as though Xia Luo could see Nie Mingjue step closer to Lan Xichen and place a large, sturdy hand just above the small of Lan Xichen’s back.

“And I wish you wouldn’t worry so much,” he said, a smile on his lips.

* * * * *

It was your father’s way to spar with those he held in high esteem, and so I often indulged him in a spar when I would come to visit at the Unclean Realm. On this day, we had just worked up a sweat and were engaged in a back and forth in the courtyard.

“You look good,” I said to him, parrying his saber.

“Don’t lie to me, Xichen,” he countered, his tone lighthearted. “You’re seeing the signs of premature aging thanks to fighting on the front lines throughout the war,” he said through a smile.

Of course, fighting in battle will take its toll on the body, but we were still young. Your father had only just passed into his mid twenties. If anything, knowing the kind of man Mingjue was, I would have expected him to look younger after the conclusion of the Sunshot Campaign.

“I am glad you can still spar,” I said. It was a careless comment that immediately put Mingjue on the defensive.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he demanded, pulling up short with his saber when I lowered my sword and took a step back.

“Nothing,” I said, reminding myself to be more careful with my words. It would not do to bring attention to this weakness of his, as it only ever led to a flare in his temper.

It made me sad to have to dance around him in this way. I had always been the one who knew how to soothe his temper or broach a conversation in a way that would not set him on alert before the case could be laid out in full. I knew where to step, how far, and how hard. Up until then, it had been a diplomatic skill, and one that served us well in our relationship. As my sworn brother, I naturally held a responsibility to have his back, and I took that duty very seriously. Now, I had to tread in a new way, one that sought to avoid a rise in his temper for his health.

Yiqing’s wavering notes wove between Lan Xichen’s words, coaxing them from his lips and sending them dancing in the air between uncle and niece. The space that they maintained at all other times was closed as feelings arose from both player and speaker.

Your father’s temper had never scared me. If anything, it made me feel alive. It was a danger that I could handle.

But there was another person who was close to us, and at that moment was leaning against one of the pillars watching us spar — no, watching Nie Mingjue.

It was Jin Guangyao, our younger sworn brother. It was rare that the three of us were together in those days, but on the days when we were, I had started to feel as though Jin Guangyao was becoming more of a presence and less of a sworn brother.

I wondered why I would feel this way, seeing as I valued Jin Guangyao greatly as a sworn brother. Why did I feel this way when the three of us were together, or when I thought of Jin Guangyao ministering to Nie Mingjue? Were they feelings of jealousy?

* * * * *

Yiqing had lulled Xia Luo and Lan Xichen into a meditative state where Xia Luo no longer had to think about the notes she was playing and Lan Xichen forgot he was speaking out loud. As Lan Xichen’s words came more freely and his speech loosened, it was as though he began painting the stories with Yiqing’s notes.

Instead of stories, Lan Xichen stepped back into memories that had haunted him as nightmares since the events at the Guanyin temple. The more he settled into the memories, the more Xia Luo felt as though she could actually see what was happening.

A scene materialized with Lan Xichen’s voice, but soon his voice faded and left only the afterimages of the encounter.

“Da-ge, why will you not talk to me?” asked Lan Xichen, his robes billowing as he strode with wide steps to keep up with Nie Mingjue who pressed on ahead of him. “Something is wrong, but I do not know what. Please, just stop and talk with me. I am worried about you,” he continued.

“Xichen, my head hurts,” Nie Mingjue grumbled. “I just need to rest. I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t want to talk.”

“I am nervous for you, da-ge. You have been acting strangely. Da-ge, have you been drinking?” asked Lan Xichen, this last bit said with great care. He reached out to touch Nie Mingjue on the shoulder, but a hand lightly slapped his away.

Nie Mingjue turned around to face Lan Xichen, his face full of indignation. “I have not been drinking,” he said, eyes flashing with indignation.

“Please do not be angry with me, I just want to help you. I am worried, and now I fear you are turning to drink,” said Lan Xichen, his voice pained.

Nie Mingjue had never been a drinker. He could hold his alcohol, but he always liked to be in control of his senses, so he never overdid it.

“Since when do I drink to such excess, Xichen?” Nie Mingjue countered, his voice raised.

“Never, but things can change, especially when stress —” Lan Xichen said.

He was cut off by Nie Mingjue who gave an angry snort. “I told you before that I’m not afraid to die young, Xichen, so why would I turn to drink now?”

It was Lan Xichen’s turn to take offense. “Perhaps you should be a bit afraid! Maybe then you would take this seriously and —”

“And what? I already told you I won’t change my cultivation. What would be the point? Either I die as Chifeng-zun, or I would live as a nobody. What kind of Nie would I be to give up my ancestors’ cultivation?” asked Nie Mingjue.

“But you would live!” cried Lan Xichen, a desperation in his eyes.

“Give up your methods.”

“What?”

“Give up your methods,” said Nie Mingjue.

“Mingjue, that’s not —”

“You wouldn’t,” Nie Mingjue said.

“Stop cutting me off,” said Lan Xichen.

Nie Mingjue scowled and stood with his arms crossed. The man was nothing if not an immovable object built of willpower and stubbornness, even to his own detriment.

“Da-ge, er-ge, is there anything I can do?” came a liquid voice. “I could hear you two arguing,” said Jin Guangyao as he stepped into view.

“No, there is nothing you can do,” snapped Lan Xichen.

Jin Guangyao put his hands up in a placating manner and gave a small bow with a smile before stepping away to give the pair some space.

Lan Xichen scolded himself for being so jealous, though something about Jin Guangyao’s presence had been bothering him lately. Something about him being alone with Nie Mingjue to play for him bothered Lan Xichen.

Lan Xichen shook the thought away and told himself it was his own doing; it was his own jealousy getting in the way of the relationship between the three of them. He should take a step back before things got any worse.

“And so I did,” said Lan Xichen. “That was just over nine months before his death.”

Like a spell being broken, Lan Xichen and Xia Luo blinked in the evening light inside the Cold Room. Lan Xichen frowned slightly. Although he knew what story he had just told, he couldn’t remember how he had told it. If he had been asked to recall the details he had shared with Xia Luo, he wouldn’t have been able to, and so he had no notion of the jealousy he had conveyed.

Xia Luo, on the other hand, felt a shiver run up her spine as she lowered Yiqing.

“What was the strange behavior you noticed,” she asked, her skin prickling.

Lan Xichen tipped his head and sighed. “He had come back from some meetings with some advisors, your uncle among them. I think he was away a few nights from the Unclean Realm, but I showed up the day after he returned. He stayed in his room that first day on account of a bad headache and his stomach feeling off, so I thought he must have eaten something bad on his trip. He seemed physically better the following day, but he still kept to his room and did not want to see me. By the third day, I was truly worried and said I would call for the physician. That was when he finally came out, though he still did not want to speak. In retrospect, there must have been something weighing on his mind. I have often wondered what it was.”

Xia Luo’s mouth had gone completely dry.

“Ah, look at the time. I ought to release you so you have some time to yourself before curfew. Hopefully I did not overwhelm you with stories,” said Lan Xichen, offering Xia Luo a gentle smile.

“No, you did not,” Xia Luo managed to say. “I will go think on things.”

Lan Xichen saw her out and went back to his room where he sat on the edge of his bed.

“Oh, Mingjue. Where did I first go so wrong?”

* * * * *

Xia Luo made a beeline from the Cold Room to the cold spring where she stopped only long enough to kick off her boots and peel off her outer robe. Practically falling into the water, she submerged herself and only came back up when her lungs were about to pop and she couldn’t handle the flashbacks of going into the ocean after Lan Sizhui anymore.

A gasping, sputtering cry tore itself from her as her head broke the surface of the water. Just over nine months before Nie Mingjue’s death — at the time the story Lan Xichen had shared with her had taken place — was when Xia Luo had been conceived. This meant that her conception, especially if it had happened the way her mother had said it did, was the cause of Nie Mingjue’s strange behavior in the story. Lan Xichen might not have put the pieces together, but Xia Luo certainly had.

“And then he gave him more space,” she cried, “all while that man watched and waited!”

She wasn’t sure who she hated more at that moment, her mother or Jin Guangyao. At least Jin Guangyao had had the decency to die, but her mother was still alive and well. Anger at the injustice turned into rage over how these things always seemed to happen.

We should be fighting people, not spirits! It’s the people that do the most harm, she thought bitterly, then submerged herself again to drive the thoughts away.

Since when did I become so angry? I don’t want to feel like this anymore, she thought.

But she was angry, and the cold water seemed only to sharpen the feeling until it stabbed at her from the inside.

* * * * *

Across the Cloud Recesses, Wei Wuxian idled on the large bed he shared with Lan Wangji and kicked his feet in the air. From his place on the bed he could see his husband correcting the disciples’ homework for class the next day. In his hand was the jade amulet he had taken from Xia Luo.

“I’ve never seen one like this before,” he mused, as much to himself as to Lan Wangji.

“Mn,” came the response.

“I’ve seen plenty of tigers and plenty of oxen, but never the two mashed together. Where would he have gotten it?” Wei Wuxian wondered. “He said it was broken; what did that mean? I don’t see where it’s broken, unless he meant the design itself.”

There was no visible mark where the two halves of the original amulet and pendant had fused to make this one. To anyone who didn’t know they were once separate, it would be hard to see what Xia Luo meant about the amulet being broken.

“I can’t sense anything off about it, either, so it’s not like it’s cursed.” Wei Wuxian sighed. “What did you mean, Xia Luo?” he asked in a quiet voice.

He was just about to put the amulet down when he felt it hum against his fingers.

“Eh? Lan Zhan!” he cried, leaping from the bed. He ran over to Lan Wangji and thrust the amulet under his nose. “Feel it!” he said.

Lan Wangji glanced at Wei Wuxian, then reached out to touch the amulet. “I do not feel anything,” he said.

“Huh? No way! It’s humming,” said Wei Wuxian. “You really can’t feel it?”

“No.”

“Oh, it stopped now. It was definitely humming, though,” said Wei Wuxian. 

* * * * *

Xia Luo tugged at her hair as she sat huddled under the stream of cascading water from the waterfall. Perched on a rock there, she let the water hit her back until she no longer saw red and could draw a normal breath again.

I really am going to die of a deviation one day, she thought.

Resentment and rage had coursed through her body when she thought about what her mother had done and how it had affected Lan Xichen’s relationship with Nie Mingjue. If Xia Shunchao  hadn’t taken advantage of him, he might possibly still be here today.

Would Zewu-jun have held out, then? How did I even see all of that? Maybe he’s that good of a storyteller.

Thoughts weren’t forming properly for Xia Luo, but her qi had settled back down to a low simmer. Finally feeling the cold and the numbing sting of the waterfall, she made her way to the shore where she gathered her clothes, got dressed, and headed for the dormitory.

“Hey, Xia Luo!” called Lan Jingyi, “where were you? I thought you’d be back from your lessons by now, but you weren’t in… woah, what happened? You’re soaking wet” he said, his words catching the attention of some of the guest disciples who hadn’t made it into the building just yet.

“Cold spring,” said Xia Luo, her lips purple.

“Did you get punished again? What did you do this time?” Lan Jingyi lamented.

“No,” said Xia Luo.

“No? Then why did you go to the cold spring?” Lan Jingyi asked, puzzled.

Behind them, the gaggle of disciples pretended not to be listening, but it was still obvious they were waiting for Xia Luo’s response. Better to give them something to gossip about than to let them come up with something entirely of their own.

“Impure thoughts,” she said, then pushed past Lan Jingyi and went into the dormitory.

* * * * *

Word made it around in no time to the other disciples that had not heard Xia Luo utter those two words. Rumor also went around that Nie Mingjue’s bastard was someone with desires as hot as their temper, so much so that they would resort to jumping into frigid water to stave off those desires. Then again, they also thought there was something admirable about his determination to keep those desires from becoming more than just thoughts. Either way, Xia Luo once again found attention directed at her, though the attention was always given from a respectful distance that spoke to the boys’ nervousness around her.

Lan Jingyi had come by the next morning to offer his newest erotic book to Xia Luo to peruse, insisting that it had nothing to do with what had been said the night before. Xia Luo stuck to her resolve and accepted the book, then tucked it away in the qiankun sleeve of her Xia Clan robe. She was tempted to try prying up a floorboard under the bed, but the walls weren’t very thick in the disciples’ dormitory, so she put it off for the time being. It wouldn’t do to make a bunch of odd sounds in her room, especially not after what she had said the night before.

By the time evening rolled around and she was released from her lesson with Lan Xichen, Lan Jingyi came by to let her know what people were saying about her.

“The rumor going around is that the thoughts you were having last night were about Zewu-jun,” he said. The look on his face meant that Xia Luo couldn’t even hope for a second that he was joking.

“Who would think that? He’s my martial uncle,” she said, scowling.

“I know that, but they think it has to be him since you had just left your lesson with him. Besides, you spend a lot of time alone with him,” he continued, his voice getting quieter with each word.

“That’s disrespectful to him,” Xia Luo retorted, walking down the hall to her room with Lan Jingyi in tow.

“Yeah, that’s what I said! Of course it’s the other sects’ disciples that started that rumor,” he said, ducking into her room behind her.

Xia Luo held the door open and looked at him. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Huh? Oh, I thought we could hang out before bed!” said Lan Jingyi. “Here, I’ll get the door. I thought we could look through the book I lent you together. The art looked really good, but I didn’t get to read it before I gave it to you.” He smiled a sheepish grin at Xia Luo.

“What if people get the wrong idea,” Xia Luo said, hoping it would put him off of his course of action.

“About what?”

Xia Luo stared at Lan Jingyi. “We just had this conversation.”

Lan Jingyi wrinkled his eyebrows in thought for a moment. “Oh!” he said, realization hitting him after a few moments. “Well, I know you’re not having thoughts about me, so I’m not bothered. Besides, you said you’re not a cutsleeve. Ah!” he said with a gasp. “Are you having impure thoughts about the women in the books I’ve let you read?”

Xia Luo pressed her knuckles against her forehead. “Jingyi,” she said, her tone strained.

“Right, nevermind! Let’s just read some of this one,” he said, brushing past the too-personal question he had asked. “Where did you hide it?”

Contemplating why she didn’t just throw him out of her room, Xia Luo pulled the book from its hiding place and held it out to Lan Jingyi.

“I don’t need to read it,” she said.

“Don’t tell me you already read it last night!” Lan Jingyi exclaimed, looking dismayed.

“No, I’m just saying that —”

“Great! Let’s read on the floor. We’ll face away from the door, and maybe pull out some paper and a brush so we can say you were tutoring me if anyone comes by,” said Lan Jingyi as he flopped onto his stomach on the floor. “Come on!”

I thought he’d be embarrassed to read erotica with someone else. The other times we read, we each had a book and were just in the same room. This feels… too…

Xia Luo couldn’t find the word she was looking for, but if she had, she would have said that it felt too intimate.

With a huff, she did as Lan Jingyi said, then settled herself on the floor next to him.

“You’ll have to scoot in or it will be hard to read,” said Lan Jingyi.

Xia Luo begrudgingly moved closer.

“So this story is about a man who falls in love with a court dancer,” Lan Jingyi explained. “The dancer doesn’t know about the man’s feelings until the night when he spirits her away and marries her.”

“Did she want to be taken away from the court?” asked Xia Luo.

“I think so, but I haven’t read the story yet, so I’m not entirely certain,” Lan Jingyi said.

“Mn.”

As the two started to read, Xia Luo listened to Lan Jingyi intermittently cut in with some commentary about the art or the story and how he thought things would progress. It was almost amusing how invested he became in the couple, and especially in the clandestine nature of their first rendezvous. There was what Xia Luo had come to recognize as the usual flavor of this kind of erotica, where the pair in question would have to feign indifference to one another’s feelings because other people were around. All the while, the couple’s feelings brewed under the surface and ignited their passions. The art in this story was pretty, and it was clear that the artist had spent considerable time studying the movement of fabric and of dancers to capture the court dancer as best as they could. A decent bit of the story didn’t contain any erotic art at all.

“I wonder what it’s like,” said Lan Jingyi with half a sigh.

Xia Luo glanced at him. “What.”

“Falling in love with someone,” said Lan Jingyi. “Don’t you ever wonder?”

“Not really.”

“You’ve never wondered?” asked Lan Jingyi in disbelief.

“No.”

“You’re not much of a romantic, are you? I guess Chifeng-zun wasn’t either,” he mused.

I don’t know what he was like. Maybe he would have been romantic if there hadn’t been a war and he wasn’t in the middle of slowly being killed.

“Is your mother the romantic sort?” Lan Jingyi suddenly asked.

A jolt went through Xia Luo. “No,” she said.

“Oh. Well, I still think you’ll find a wife who meets your criteria one day,” Lan Jingyi said, then turned back to the book. “It’s good you don’t want a romantic woman,” he said with a laugh.

Xia Luo couldn’t help but throw a bemused glance his way.

As the story continued, the man fell deeper in love with the dancer and put his position as a member of the court in danger. To prove his love to the dancer, he threw away his position in exchange for her freedom, then ran away with her. The erotic scenes at the end of the book were very mild, but they still had Lan Jingyi sighing.

“To think he gave it all up for her,” he commented.

Xia Luo frowned. “What will they do now? Her trade is in court dancing, and his was working in the court. Neither of them can earn a living, and they can’t really pick up a new trade.”

“That’s not the point of the story,” said Lan Jingyi, gazing at a pretty drawing of the woman held in the man’s arms while he passionately kissed her neck.

“I don’t think that story would happen in real life,” insisted Xia Luo.

“Why not? People do all kinds of things for the people they love. Take Hanguang-jun and Wei-qianbei for example,” Lan Jingyi said, turning his attention fully to Xia Luo.

“Except Hanguang-jun didn’t really give anything up. He still has his position, his rank, his dignity. People might talk about him a bit differently now, but nothing has really changed for him,” Xia Luo said.

“He still would have given those things up for Wei-qianbei,” said Lan Jingyi. “I was there when he chose to stand by him at the Burial Mounds!”

Xia Luo stood up and brushed herself off. “I think he knew he would still have someplace to return to,” she said.

Lan Jingyi righted himself so he was now sitting and facing Xia Luo. “So are you saying you don’t think people would do anything for love?”

“I’m saying that people make a wager and only take the bet if the odds of losing are less than those of winning.”

Lan Jingyi regarded Xia Luo with an eyebrow raised. “You said your uncle never remarried after his wife died, right? Didn’t he stay single out of love for her?”

Xia Luo shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe he simply chose to serve Chifeng-zun.”

“You talk like a war general,” Lan Jingyi laughed.

“I was raised to be the advisor to one. That’s what the Xia Clan does.” Xia Luo opened the door to her room and stood to the side. “It’s almost curfew,” she said.

Lan Jingyi scrambled to his feet and tucked the book into his robe. “If you aren’t legitimized, is that the work you’ll pursue?”

“Good night,” Xia Luo said.

Getting the hint, Lan Jingyi ducked out of the room and scampered off to find Lan Sizhui before curfew, eager to tell him everything he had learned from Xia Luo. One thing he knew for certain after this evening was that there was no way Xia Luo would simply fall in love with someone like the romantic and amorous men in the erotic novels he favored.

Chapter Text

Screams echoed through the woods in the pale light of an overcast afternoon. Jin Ling and Xia Luo hurled insults and accusations at one another while Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi stood off to the side. They had already tried to keep the argument from getting to this point, but it was hopeless. Once those two got going, they couldn’t be stopped.

“You got us all turned around because you won’t listen!” fumed Xia Luo.

“Me? You’re the one who is supposed to be good at tracking. You were supposed to lead us to the river, but we still haven’t found it!” spat Jin Ling.

“And how many times have you taken us on a detour thinking you knew the way?” Xia Luo snapped.

“At least I communicated my ideas to the group, unlike you. You were supposed to take the lead on this one, but you can’t even tell us what your plan is,” Jin Ling continued, his arms crossed.

“Maybe talking less would do you well,” said Xia Luo, coming nose to nose with Jin Ling.

Jin Ling shoved her. “Maybe remembering your place would do you well!”

“Is that all you ever have to say?” she growled, angry that they had once again come to blows. She was right about the reason why they were still looking for the river, but Jin Ling refused to admit he was in the wrong.

“You know what,” said Jin Ling, dodging and throwing another punch, “the whole facade you put on about being stoic is so laughable!” They danced their way towards a clearing amidst flying feet and fists, both of them getting more worked up by the second.

“It’s like you’re trying to be Hanguang-jun,” he continued, “but you’ll never be anything more than a second-rate cultivator who hides behind Zewu-jun for protection!”

Xia Luo glowered at Jin Ling and thrust a foot into his stomach.

“Guys, do you hear that? Hey, stop fighting for a second!” Lan Jingyi cried out.

The two glared at each other, Jin Ling picking himself up while Xia Luo dabbed at the cut on her cheek. In the near distance, they could all hear the sound of a river.

“We found it!” said Lan Sizhui, the relief audible in his voice.

“How didn’t we hear it before?” asked Jin Ling, his eyes never leaving Xia Luo.

“The trees must have dampened the sound,” said Lan Sizhui. “Come on, let’s go.”

Going to the river would have been the wise choice, but Xia Luo and Jin Ling weren’t through with each other.

“It’s funny how you accuse me of the very thing you do,” said Xia Luo. “Your Jiujiu even came to the Cloud Recesses to get me to apologize to you, but you don’t deserve my apology.”

Jin Ling’s face reddened, but before he could say anything Xia Luo was sent flying through the air, swiftly followed by a blur of dark colors. A tangle of overgrowth arrested her tumble over the ground, and she had no sooner sat up in a daze than a second blow landed on her.

A lash of crackling purple whipped through the air and wound itself around her neck to drag her back across the ground. Just when she thought the sizzling whip would strangle her, it released her only to be replaced by a hand around her throat.

Her feet left the ground as she wrapped her hands around the forearm of the person who lifted her up. Fury met her in the form of Jiang Cheng, his face a storm of murderous rage.

“I am sick and tired of you,” he hissed, pressing his fingers against the points that stopped the flow of blood to her brain. They had made it to the river and Jiang Cheng was holding her right at the edge of the low cliff that overhung the turbulent water.

Jiang Cheng scowled at her, his expression ugly and full of disgust. “What hope is there for a bastard like you? Useless and unloved. Pathetic.”

Xia Luo felt her mind going fuzzy, but even still, she held onto Jiang Cheng’s forearm and choked out a few words.

“Fuck… you,” she said, the words bringing foam to her lips.

“You don’t deserve my leniency,” he growled, releasing his grip around her throat and hitting her in the chest with a palm strike that sent her flying over the cliff’s edge.

Xia Luo fell, the gray sky overhead filled with Jiang Cheng’s fury and his eyes that were devoid of empathy.

Rushing water enveloped her body and forced its way into her mouth and nose. The torrent sucked her into the depths of the turgid water and threw her against boulders and the swollen trunks of fallen trees. Branches grabbed at her flesh, threatening to ensnare her in their reaching arms. Something large caught her and knocked the air from her lungs, her body pressed against it, small and insignificant in the face of the river’s thrashing strength. Debris ripped past her face and something slammed into her stomach, knocking what little air she had remaining from her lungs. The river refused to release her.

I’m drowning, she thought before her mind went blank.

Xia Luo sat up in bed with a gasp. Purple and gray silks hung from the walls and violet cuckoos danced on the embroidered quilt on her bed.

“A-Luo,” came a voice from the end of the bed. Her mother looked at her with concern.

“You were yelling in your sleep so loud I could hear you across the courtyard. It’s good that I was already awake so I could come to check on you myself,” she said.

“Mother,” breathed Xia Luo. Her head throbbed with the memory of the vivid dream.

“Mother, I had a terrible dream,” she said, the words pouring from her lips. “I was fighting with Jin Ling during a Night Hunt because he got us turned around but blamed me. We were looking for the river, but then we could hear it. I said something to Jin Ling because he was, well, he’s always like that, and then Jiang Cheng showed up!”

“Is that so,” her mother said.

“It was horrible! He threw me into the river and I drowned!” said Xia Luo, her eyes wide with the horror of the sensation. She shuddered. “I hate the water. I hate Jiang Cheng. He hasn’t got any empathy in his heart.”

A familiar scent wafted into the room, one that reminded Xia Luo of childhood and put the sensation of drowning from her mind. Tipping her nose into the air, she breathed deeply of the aroma and closed her eyes.

“Are those pork dumplings I smell?” she asked her mother.

Her mother smiled. “They are. Why don’t we go and have some.”

Clambering from the bed, Xia Luo fixed her robe and followed her mother into the courtyard. It was sunny outside, and the magnolia tree whose shiny green leaves normally shaded a large part of the courtyard stood bare in the autumn sun.

It will be nice to see Jiujiu, Xia Luo thought, a flutter of happiness tickling her heart. Maybe we can even train in the courtyard together after lunch. It feels like a lifetime since I’ve last seen him.

Happiness brought the glimmer of a smile to the corners of Xia Luo’s lips, but a glance across the courtyard wiped it away and turned her legs to lead. All the sounds in the courtyard died away and blood rose in Xia Luo’s ears. Birds slowed in their flight through the air, dry leaves took an eternity to fall to the ground. 

Standing tall, muscular, and heavily robed with hair tied half into a ponytail was Nie Mingjue. A scowl deeper than the scar that ran through the Burial Mounds marked his face and rage pressed his lips into a jagged line. He stood there, a hulking mass, staring at Xia Shunchao.

“Mother,” Xia Luo whispered, the word as delicate as a stolen breath. Xia Shunchao seemed not to notice. 

“Mother, run. Mother, you need to run!” she said, her voice picking up in volume and urgency. She was in grave danger.

Nie Mingjue tucked his chin towards his chest to cast a menacing glower over Xia Shunchao, displeasure contorting his already rage-laden features. He took a step towards them.

“Mother, go! Go now!” shouted Xia Luo, stepping in front of her mother who had yet to take a single step. She wanted to call for her uncle, but the words never made it to her lips. Nie Mingjue had closed the distance between them.

Xia Luo threw her arms out to block her mother from Nie Mingjue’s massive hand as it reached forward, but the hand didn’t reach for her mother. Shock made Xia Luo’s stomach run cold as Nie Mingjue closed his hand around her neck, the intense pressure making her eyes bulge in their sockets. If she had little chance to retaliate against Jiang Cheng when he had grabbed her in her dream, then she had no hope against the man who sired her.

Terror flooded her veins and made her panic, but there was nowhere for her to go, no way for her to escape.

Will my own father really kill me? I always said I wasn’t worthy to be his child, but —

“Ruinous whelp,” said Nie Mingjue, his voice rumbling up from his throat. “I should have ripped you from the womb.”

Vertebrae popped under the crush of his hand until everything went black with a final snap.

Xia Luo bolted upright in bed with one hand grasping her neck. Her eyes were wild and her breathing ragged, and her hair stuck to her neck and forehead from the sweat that coated her body.

“Woah! Easy there!” cried Lan Jingyi, jumping backwards to avoid getting conked on the head from her violent waking.

“Oh, thank goodness you woke up!” said Lan Sizhui. “You didn’t come to breakfast, so we came to find you, but we couldn’t wake you no matter what. The way you were sleeping was so troubled, like you were fighting for your life every minute. Nothing we did worked to wake you, and we started getting nervous that maybe… you were…” his voice trailed off, the hesitation palpable as he wavered.

Qi deviating.

Xia Luo had already been killed twice tonight. She didn’t know what was happening, but she wasn’t about to fall for this trick a third time.

“Get back!” she snarled at the boys. “You’re not real!”

Lan Jingyi blinked in confusion. “Huh? Xia Luo, we’re real. You must have had a really bad dream.”

“Xia Luo, calm down,” soothed Lan Sizhui in a gentle voice. “Let me check your pulse, and then we can —”

He didn’t get the chance to finish before Xia Luo shoved past him and made for the door.

“You’re not real, so just leave me alone!” she snarled, and fled from the room.

“What in the —” said Lan Jingyi. “What’s gotten into him?” he cried, close on Lan Sizhui’s heels as they chased after Xia Luo.

“Xia Luo, stop running!” yelled Lan Sizhui. “Xia Luo, we’re not here to hurt you!” His cries fell on deaf ears. Xia Luo burst from the dormitory and looked around to get her bearings.

Nothing looks different, she thought. I’ll fly out on Yongyao.

Yongyao was not at her hip, nor did she have her fan with her.

“Xia Luo, it’s us! It's alright. Whatever you dreamt, it was just a dream. You can trust us,” Lan Sizhui urged. He didn’t show it, but the look in Xia Luo’s eyes scared him.

“You don’t have to fight…you’re safe,” he reassured.

The commotion had drawn disciples and elders out from the dining hall, but when the elders saw what was happening, they quickly ushered the disciples back inside. An elder disciple was dispatched to alert Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji that Xia Luo appeared to be possessed, while a second was sent to inform Lan Xichen.

“What’s your secret reason for wanting to kill me?” Xia Luo said, her lips curled in a snarl.

“Huh? We don’t have any reason to want to kill you!” said Lan Jingyi with a hurt expression.

“Why else would you show up?” snarled Xia Luo, her shoulders hunched up like the hackles on a cornered wolf.

“Xia Luo, you’re in the Cloud Recesses,” said Lan Sizhui, “no one here wants to hurt you.”

A bark of laughter cut the air. “It’s always the people closest to you,” she spat. The sound of Nie Mingjue’s hand snapping her neck rang in her ears.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had rushed over on Bichen the moment they saw the disciple’s expression and arrived in time to hear this last part of the exchange. They both frowned, but it was Wei Wuxian who stepped forward first.

“Xia Luo, Sizhui speaks the truth. No one here wants to hurt you,” he said. He put Chenqing to his lips and played a few notes while watching Xia Luo, but nothing happened.

“That’s strange,” he said, glancing over at Lan Wangji. “He doesn’t seem to be possessed. Sizhui, what happened to Xia Luo?”

Lan Sizhui spoke over his shoulder to Wei Wuxian from where he stood. “We don’t know. He was impossible to wake up, and when he did, it was like this.”

Concerned for Xia Luo’s wellbeing, Lan Wangji took a step forward and was immediately pinned by Xia Luo’s glare and twisted laugh.

“You say you don’t want to hurt me, but I know you have a grudge,” she said, eyes flicking over to Wei Wuxian, then back to Lan Wangji. “So then, it’s you this time, is it? I guess it makes sense.”

Lan Wangji furrowed his brows. “What makes you think I would want to hurt you,” he asked.

“The others held grudges, too,” Xia Luo said. She lowered her eyes to Lan Wangji’s hip where Bichen rested in its sheath.

“Xia Luo, I hold no grudge. Besides, this is the Cloud Recesses. There is no fighting here,” said Lan Wangji, as though reason would bring Xia Luo to her senses.

Xia Luo bristled, sweat still beading over her body as she burned from the inside. “That didn’t stop him, and he was DEAD!” she howled, grief and exhaustion welling up and twisting the last word into something full of sorrow and hurt.

“Xia Luo!” someone called, their voice full of anguish. “Xia Luo, shizhi!” Lan Xichen swept past Lan Wangji to come within a few paces of Xia Luo. He ignored his brother’s warning to keep his distance.

“Shizhi,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion. “Come back to us.” He placed his blade on the ground behind him, then stood up again slowly.

The chill morning breeze cooled the sweat soaking her clothing and made Xia Luo shiver. She suddenly felt very, very tired.

If he’s going to kill me, then let it be swift. Of all of them, he has the right. Her legs gave out beneath her. Lan Xichen caught her before she could slump to the ground, then pressed a hand to her forehead.

Panic pricked at his heart. “Wei Wuxian, it’s as you said before” he said.

Curious faces peered from where they kept their distance to see what was happening. Elders were too invested in the situation to keep the disciples at bay, which meant that countless pairs of eyes watched Xia Luo in her stand-off against the others. 

Wei Wuxian was not happy to be right. Looking at the miserable pile of robes that was Xia Luo only filled him with sympathy for the youth.

“Let us bring him inside,” said Lan Wangji, stooping low to take Xia Luo from Lan Xichen’s frail arms. “We will speak then.”

“Sizhui, Jingyi, well done. I’ll find you once we stabilize Xia Luo’s condition,” said Wei Wuxian, then he turned and followed the Twin Jades across the way to the Cold Room.

Back in Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji’s cottage, the tiger-ox jade amulet hummed on the bench where Wei Wuxian had left it the night before when Lan Wangji had scooped him up and carried him off to bed.

* * * * *

Heat rose from Xia Luo’s body as fever set in. A headache that drove nails through her skull kept her bolted to the bed as she groaned in agony.

“I do not understand,” said Lan Xichen from the side of the bed. “What could be causing this? How could he wake in a state of deviation?”

Lan Wangji watched as Wei Wuxian slapped cloths soaked in cold water over Xia Luo’s body, his usually neutral expression betraying a hint of the concern he felt for the youth.

“I do not know,” Lan Wangji. “It is uncommon to wake this way.”

“Yes, I know,” said Lan Xichen, wringing his hands.

“He must have had some nightmares,” said Wei Wuxian. “There’s no sign of possession, so it has to be something his own mind is creating and feeding off of.” Once the wet cloths were on, he pulled out Chenqing and began to play.

The tune was eerie and wavered in the air, its notes dancing like ragged butterflies that fluttered and landed across Xia Luo’s burning body.

The resentment is so strong on this kid, he thought. What could she have dreamt to start a deviation? What did she go through at the Xia residence that could be fueling this? Being Chifeng-zun’s child surely isn’t enough cause for such early deviations.

It took some time, but in the end, Xia Luo’s breathing regulated and the fever broke.

She needs some dry clothes, thought Wei Wuxian.

“He will need dry clothing,” said Lan Wangji as though he had read Wei Wuxian’s mind.

“Mm, I agree,” said Wei Wuxian. “We can send for someone to bring clothing from Xia Luo’s room.”

“No need for all that,” said Lan Xichen. “He should be dried and dressed as soon as possible. I do not want to risk him getting sick from being wet and cold in his current condition.”

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji watched Lan Xichen leave the room and then re enter shortly after with a set of robes tucked over one arm.

“Xiongzhang, that does not seem appropriate,” said Lan Wangji.

“It is just robes, Wangji. I will have his current robes washed and dried so he may change when he is ready to return to his room. First, he needs to rest and recover, and the three of us must speak,” said Lan Xichen.

Proving they were cut of the same cloth and raised as the paradigm gentlemen, both brothers stood in silence as they shifted their attention back to Xia Luo. The question went unspoken but hung heavy in the air. Only Wei Wuxian could break such a silence.

“Leave it to me,” he said, taking the robes from Lan Xichen. “The two of you should go make tea and start talking about what you think we should do. I’ll join you afterwards.”

“I can help you,” said Lan Wangji.

“Nah, it’s no problem! What I really want is a cup of tea,” said Wei Wuxian, nudging Lan Wangji towards the door. “I’ll join you both in no time!”

“Will he not be too heavy to move on your own?” said Lan Xichen.

Xia Luo stirred on the bed and let out a soft moan.

“Nope! He should be awake enough in another minute to be able to lift his arms, so it won’t be too hard!” Wei Wuxian was eager to get the two out of the room so he could help Xia Luo dress without revealing her secret.

“Call if you need help,” said Lan Wangji, then he walked out of the room with Lan Xichen right behind him.

Closing the door behind them, Wei Wuxian stepped back to Xia Luo’s bedside and bent over her.

“Hey, kid, can you hear me?” he said.

With her eyes still closed, Xia Luo frowned.

“Great, you can hear me well enough. I’m going to help you undress and dry off, alright? You have to get out of these wet clothes.” Making to undo the outer tie on Xia Luo’s robe, Wei Wuxian felt a hand close around his wrist. The grip was weak, but it was clear in its meaning.

“It’s just us in here, so there’s no need to worry. I know you probably feel some kind of way about undressing in front of a man, but at least I can help keep your secret safe,” said Wei Wuxian.

“What’s the point,” Xia Luo whispered, her voice rasping its way up her throat.

“Huh?”

No response came. Wei Wuxian peered closer at Xia Luo’s face and saw two tears escape from behind her closed eyelids.

“Aw, kid, it’s going to be alright. We’re going to figure out what’s going on and we’re going to help you,” he said. Empathy plucked at his heart.

Xia Luo shook her head, and when she spoke, her voice was choked with anger and sadness. “You don’t get it. There isn’t a puppet master pulling the strings this time. Whatever it is, it’s just me.” Nie Mingjue’s hand closed around her neck once more.

“Maybe I deserve it,” she choked out, the sound of her bones popping echoing in her head.

Wei Wuxian’s eyebrows shot up. “Hey now, that’s no way to think about things,” he said. “No one deserves qi deviation —”

“You don’t get it.”

“Kid, you’ve gotta help me understand. Why would you think you deserve this?” Wei Wuxian asked, kneeling by the bed to be eye level with Xia Luo.

Xia Luo shook her head again, another tear rolling down her cheek. “Justice always finds its way, even if the way it finds is unjust.”

“Those words are way too cryptic for someone your age,” said Wei Wuxian. “Xia Luo, you can trust me. I’m really trying to help you, but you need to give me something to work with.”

“I can’t tell you. That would be worse.”

Wei Wuxian let out a huff. Compassionate conversation was not going to get him anywhere, even if it felt like the right thing to do.

“Well,” he said, standing up, his tone changing. “If you aren’t going to tell me anything, then I’ll just have to proceed in my own way.” Like a cat after its prey, Wei Wuxian pounced on Xia Luo, pinning one wrist with his hand and pinning the other under his knee.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you stay in those wet robes or you’ll get sick,” he said. With a few deft motions, he had undone the ties to both Xia Luo’s night robe and had jumped off before she could knee him.

“What the —!”

Wei Wuxian slapped a hand over Xia Luo’s mouth, then brought his lips close to her ear.

“Don’t make any noise, or the Twin Jades will come in and find out your secret,” he said. “Now, you can remove your bindings yourself, or you can let me do it. I promise not to look.”

Xia Luo didn’t have enough strength left in her to fight him anymore. With a look of deep contempt, she let Wei Wuxian sit her up and swing her legs over the edge of the bed.

“Great,” he said, standing back to give her some space. “I’ll grab the robes and then you can undo your wraps.”

Xia Luo was exhausted. The effort of sitting up was already too much after the burst of adrenaline had left her, and now her arms felt leaden.

“Right, here are the robes. I’ll turn around and you can let me know when you’re done. Then I can help you —”

“You do it.”

“Eh?” said Wei Wuxian, blinking in surprise.

Xia Luo turned her head away from him. “I can’t,” she mumbled.

Is this her way of asking for help? I might not have spent much time around Nie Mingjue, but I would certainly think he raised her for how alike she is to him! thought Wei Wuxian.

Without a word, Wei Wuxian nodded and stepped towards Xia Luo. After a moment’s hesitation, he asked, “Um, where do you fasten this thing?”

“Left side. It’s tucked in,” said Xia Luo despondently, still refusing to look at him.

Arm length after arm length of linen unwound from Xia Luo’s chest, each wrap around her body making Wei Wuxian nervous that he would reveal skin at any moment.

“You’re worse than the juniors,” said Xia Luo, taking Wei Wuxian by surprise. “There’s nothing to see.”

In Wei Wuxian’s moment of surprise, the linen wraps fell away from Xia Luo’s body to reveal her bare chest to Wei Wuxian before he could look away.

“I’m sorry!” he said. “I didn’t mean to see!”

“There’s nothing to see,” Xia Luo repeated. “I’ve seen just enough erotic art to know I don’t look anything like those women.”

“What?” Wei Wuxian spluttered, choking on his own spit. “Where did you… why have you… what do you…”

Xia Luo shrugged and reached for a robe that looked too large for her. “Either way, it’s not like I would be tempting to you in any way. Unless you’re into girls that look like boys,” she said, the remark scathing despite the casual tone she spoke in. It was directed at herself.

Wei Wuxian set aside his panic and lowered his shoulders. The person he saw in front of him was a lost, confused youth with no precedent to follow. Who else had tread such a path as this, and at such a young age? Although his own circumstances were different, he could understand the general feelings.

“Xia Luo,” he said, his voice alluringly delicate, “whatever you’re carrying inside you, share it with me. I can help you. I will find a way to help you.”

White closed over the light cinnamon shade of Xia Luo’s skin. Gingerly, she slid from the bed and steadied herself on her feet. Robes of the purest white pooled around her on the ground, many inches too long for her. She balked at the kindness offered to her, unwilling to accept help out of a belief that she didn’t deserve it.

It made Wei Wuxian think of Jin Ling.

“I really want to sleep,” she muttered, ignoring Wei Wuxian’s words.

All Wei Wuxian could do was sigh. He had been this difficult once, too, if not worse. It wasn’t abnormal for people to isolate themselves when they were in crisis. It just meant that he and the others would need to find their own answers to help her.

“Come rest on the cushions here,” he said. “The bed is wet.”

Xia Luo stepped out of her wet trousers and, like a child with their favorite blanket, tottered over to the cushions with the second white robe grasped in her hands. A breeze could have knocked her over at that point, so easily did her legs fold under her.

I’d be tired too, kid, thought Wei Wuxian.

“Whatever you think,” he said, tucking the second robe over Xia Luo’s curled up body, “you don’t deserve this.” Without another word, Wei Wuxian left the room and pulled the door shut behind him.

Morning light filtered in through the curtains hanging in the window, casting the whole room in a pale haze of yellow. Dust motes sparkled in the light as they floated in the air, caught up in the faint rays of light that managed to peek around the curtains. One ray of light stretched itself long, the last of its light reaching the sleeve of the robe draped over Xia Luo to illuminate the swirling cloud pattern on the sleeve. The warm scent of jasmine mixed with the cool scent of sandalwood and filled every corner of her head.

These were Lan Xichen’s robes.

“I’m sorry,” Xia Luo whispered into the empty room, curling her fingers into the robe.

“I’m sorry.”

* * * * *

“Absolutely not,” said Lan Xichen.

Wei Wuxian exhaled. He had known it would be a difficult sell, but he was nothing if not persistent.

“It’s been two months,” he said. “Xia Luo has had plenty of time to recover, you’ve been overseeing his training, and he’s been stable. I think it’s important that he go out for the holidays with the others —”

Lan Xichen shook his head. “No. I do not want to put him in any situation where he might get triggered into a deviation.”

“Xichen, you know how Xia Luo is; his pride is too strong. If he senses he’s being coddled, then he’ll only become more agitated,” said Wei Wuxian. “He’s already dealing with being compromised; being reminded of it wouldn’t do him any good.”

Wei Wuxian watched Lan Xichen’s face for any sign that his words had swayed him. “Haven’t you thought that Xia Luo has seemed a bit down lately?” he asked, interrupting Lan Xichen’s thoughts to provoke a response.

“I would think it only natural that he be in low spirits after such an ordeal,” Lan Xichen responded.

Wei Wuxian found his next opening and took it. “Precisely! The best thing for him right now is to feel normal, and if the boys go out for the holidays but he isn’t allowed to go, then he certainly won’t feel normal. I’m afraid it could exacerbate things and play at his insecurities.”

Lan Xichen gave Wei Wuxian a hard look.

Outside, the weather had turned cold and the trees were bare. Winter had made its way to the mountain.

“What if something happens,” said Lan Xichen.

“Xichen, nothing happened here and he still deviated.”

“But at least we were here to help him!”

Wei Wuxian could see the anguish in Lan Xichen’s eyes. It was the anguish that came from grief, from losing someone he cared about deeply. It was an anguish borne of trauma and a fear response that made him hide away so he wouldn’t have to experience it again. Wei Wuxian could sympathize.

“Xichen, after this year is over, Xia Luo will return to Nie territory. You won’t be able to watch out for him then,” he said, his voice soft.

“Is it so wrong to want to protect him,” came the response, Lan Xichen’s voice thick with emotional exhaustion.

There was nothing Wei Wuxian could say. How many times had Lan Xichen been there when Lan Wangji was struggling to protect the one he loved? How often had he just stood there in silence, hoping that his presence was some small comfort to his brother?