Chapter Text
Chapter One
Rue
I. Old Days
Jiang Cheng clears his throat as six cultivators clad in purple enter the gates of the Cloud Recesses. “Remember, we should endeavor to uphold the values of Yunmeng Jiang Clan.”
“Somehow, I don’t think our ancestors meant ‘uphold three-thousand rules’ when they asked us to attempt the impossible,” Wei Wuxian retorts, still reeling from the sight.
Jiang Cheng glowers at his brother, though Jiang Yanli shakes her head with amusement.
Yu Ziyuan chokes back a snort, but she halts immediately. Her maids, Yinzhu and Jinzhu, force the children to halt as well. “Both of you are right, and both of you are wrong. Jiang Cheng?”
She crosses her arms and waits.
“The ancestors didn’t envision three-thousand rules,” Jiang Cheng admits.
“Of course not! What use had they for Gusu Lan Clan when they were busy in Yunmeng?” Yu Ziyuan turns to Wei Wuxian. “And you?”
“The ancestors did envision us being gracious guests,” Wei Wuxian says with exaggerated glum.
“Precisely.” She flicks her fingers towards him. “If either of you cause trouble for Lan Qiren or your sister, I will use Zidian on your backs.”
“Mom!” protests Jiang Cheng.
“Oh, I know you won’t instigate anything, but you’ll follow your brother, won’t you?” Yu Ziyuan eyes her two sons. One from her body, one from the body of laughing girl she once considered a rival. Either way, both her sons now.
“Yes, Mother,” they both say at once.
“Good. Now off with you.” She points the three towards the main hall, where two Gusu Lan disciples wait to guide them to their rooms and all of that nonsense she doesn’t have time for.
She’ll miss them these next few months. When Jiang Fengmian suggested that she could worry less with Wei Wuxian away, she had promptly slapped his hand away from rubbing her perennially aching shoulders, exclaiming that she would worry all the more because the wild brat was away. Sure, his antics were beloved in Lotus Pier, but the Cloud Recesses was another matter. Didn’t Jiang Fengmian recall how he’d nearly died from Lan Qiren’s stubborn obedience to the rules?
“Come with me,” she says to her maids, her friends whose marriage she had supported several years prior. She won’t be staying long, but there’s a special friend she must speak with before her departure, someone she’s spent years hoping to introduce Yinzhu and Jinzhu to.
The path they take leads to a small, quiescent cottage on the edge of the Cloud Recesses. Gentians sway outside, gentians for passion, charm, loveliness, and lastly, sweetness – an adjective that could never be used to describe Yu Ziyuan, but one that aptly fits her friend.
Madame Lan opens her door with that same gentle smile, her hair still loose and wild as ever. “You’re here early.”
“I told you, I despise tardiness.” Yu Ziyuan sniffs as she sweeps inside. “Yinzhu, Jinzhu, meet Madame Lan at last.”
Ten years ago, Yu Ziyuan had stumbled across this place entirely by accident. She’d accompanied her husband to the Cloud Recesses’ Discussion Conference, mostly because she knew the Cloud Recesses held fond memories for Jiang Fengmian. He’d met Cangse Sanren here, after all.
At the time, Yu Ziyuan had just wanted to witness how her husband ignored her all the more, maybe avenge herself by picking a fight and ruining his memories. Maybe not.
But then she’d witnessed Jiang Fengmian speaking to the little Lan masters, both about Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli’s age.
Jiang Fengmian crouched at eye-level with them, paid them attention, and she’d promptly flown into a rage for his lack of attention towards A-Cheng.
But as she stood there, seething, the talkative boy mentioned that only their uncle took care of them, instead of their father and mother.
“Lan Zhan is upset because we are supposed to see Mother today, but because of the conference, we have to wait,” said the boy.
“Can’t you see her anytime?” Yu Ziyuan asked sharply.
The boy looked slightly alarmed at her tone, but he smiled all the more. “No, we only see her one day a month. It’s our personal holiday, Uncle says.”
Both Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian felt uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry about her health. I’m sure she wants to see you more,” Jiang Fengmian said awkwardly, offering the two candy that they eagerly take.
“Thank you,” both said immediately.
Had he ever offered Jiang Cheng candy? Yu Ziyuan simmered. Her hands curled into fists.
“She’s healthy,” said the boy. “She just needs to be quiet.”
Jiang Fengmian frowned.
Something in her broke. For a second, Yu Ziyuan was speechless.
These men. These fucking men. Thinking that women don’t matter. They’ve banned a woman from her children and lied about it, lied and broke their sanctimonious rules, for what? What possible reason? Do they fault her for her husband’s withdrawal from the cultivation world? Well, last time Yu Ziyuan checked, no woman could control her terrible husband, not even Madame Jin, and Madame Jin controlled everyone else!
“They’re keeping you away from your mother? For our conference’s sake?! I think not,” she fumed. And then she’d scooped little Lan Zhan up on her hip and taken Lan Huan’s hand. “Take me to your mother! We’ll see if they say no to the Purple Spider.”
Jiang Fengmian stood in alarm. “My lady –”
“I’m not interested in punishing children for whatever men deem unsuitable about their mothers,” Yu Ziyuan retorts, pointedly. As per usual, he shakes his head and sighs.
“Lan Huan, guide the way.”
Lan Huan had always been taught to obey his elders, so he quickly nodded.
She’d opened the door to the cabin with ease – the seal was no match for Zidian. A woman with long, wavy hair and laughing eyes scrambled to her feet.
“Mom!” cried out little Lan Huan, and as soon as Yu Ziyuan set Lan Zhan down, he too beelined for his mother.
Yu Ziyuan was further suspicious to see nothing wrong with the woman. She’s suspected correctly. “Madame Lan?”
“I am.” The woman offered a gentle smile, though she looked nervously at the door. “Who are you?”
“Yu Ziyuan, the Mistress of Yunmeng Jiang Clan. Here for the conference.” Yu Ziyuan was surprised to sense a fairly high level of cultivation. Why hadn’t she seen her before? “And you? You’re more than Madame Lan.”
“Oh.” The woman ruffled her children’s hair, pinching Lan Zhan’s cheek until he hid his face in her robe. “My name is Zhu Mochou. Before I, um, married, I was a rogue cultivator.”
“I see.” Yu Ziyuan appraised her. “I’ve met precious few cultivators, rogue or not, with that level of cultivation.”
Zhu Mochou looked delighted. She laughed, although it wasn’t really funny and Yu Ziyuan rarely laughed herself. “Well, when you’re a poor woman – or even a rich one – what won’t you do to gain control of your life?”
“Hmm.” Yu Ziyuan sneered. “Then why are your kids not allowed to see you?”
“They are.”
“Once a month?” Yu Ziyuan shut the door behind her and locked it. “The only person who knows we’re here is my husband. He’s stupendously talented in avoiding confrontation, so I’m sure he’ll find a way to cover for us while the children see you.”
Zhu Mochou did not miss the bitterness in Yu Ziyuan’s voice. “It’s a long story, perhaps not suitable for –”
“Fine then. After you spend an hour with your children, I’ll return this evening. We’ll even brew tea.” Yu Ziyuan didn’t ask. She only commanded.
And yet, as with her sons’ arms thrown around her, Zhu Mochou felt freer than she had in years.
That evening, Zhu Mochou disclosed her story to Yu Ziyuan: she had killed her husband’s teacher seven years ago. Qingheng-Jun had sent the teacher to her to request her aid on a night-hunt, another attempt to woo her by the smitten young man.
Instead, the teacher had attempted to force himself upon her, declaring that her desire to live without a husband or children was unnatural, and she’d killed him before he could.
The problem was that Zhu Mochou was a rogue cultivator, and the teacher a respected elder. By the time Qingheng-Jun found her in their first location they met, she was hunted by everyone in the Gusu Lan Clan.
He’d believed her story but acknowledged that most wouldn’t. So he’d offered to marry her for her protection, and she’d accepted despite her intention to never marry nor bear children. But, unable to forgive himself for sending his teacher to her, for forcing her into a position where she married him to save her life and not for love, Qingheng-Jun secluded himself. Unable to trust that his clan would not harm her, he also imprisoned her nearby.
They meant to live separate lives, as Qingheng-Jun at least wished to honor her aversion to motherhood. They’d only consummated their marriage for her safety, and then he had promised to leave her alone.
Unfortunately, Zhu Mochou discovered she was with child from that one time, and since she was imprisoned, there was no remedy she could attempt. After four months, she suspected she wouldn’t miscarry and easily dismantled the seal to sneak into his quarters and inform him.
She didn’t like children, never had. But she grew to love her child, who kicked in her womb and kept her company in isolation. Qingheng-Jun, too, began to sneak out of his quarters to visit her and their baby at night.
But Lan Huan had been taken from her the moment he was born, and she wasn’t even able to name him. After the birth, she had been shocked when Qingheng-Jun continued visiting her. He comforted her with Lan Qiren’s news of Lan Huan, as her unused breasts leaked milk and her emotions sank lower than ever.
Over time, she’d asked him to give her a second child, so A-Huan didn’t feel alone. No, that wasn’t precisely the reason; she’d grown fond of him, too. And yet, even though he knew she loved him now, Qingheng-Jun could not forgive himself enough to leave seclusion. Zhu Mochou likewise remained in prison, only seeing A-Huan and A-Zhan once a month.
After hearing her story, Yu Ziyuan was set to give Qingheng-Jun a lashing with Zidian and her tongue. To her surprise, Zhu Mochou managed to block the door, and, showing her own wit, inquired of Yu Ziyuan’s marital circumstances.
Yu Ziuan froze.
She’d loved Jiang Fengmian. Really loved him. From the moment she gained the name of Purple Spider and exulted because at last she was no longer just ‘Third Maiden Yu,’ and her best friend, Rong Ruying of the neighboring Chengdu Rong Clan, said that she should marry Jiang Fengmian then, so their colors matched.
And yet, Yu Ziyuan she couldn’t say she was any more forward with her own misery in Lotus Pier than Zhu Mochou was in the Cloud Recesses.
And so she and her new friend had compromised. They promised on the heads of their two children to reconcile and talk, really talk, with their husbands.
In the end, Zhu Mochou was the bolder of the two. Once word reached her that Qingheng-Jun had emerged from seclusion with his lovely wife only a few months after her visit, Yu Ziyuan knew she had developed another lasting friendship.
It took five more years for Yu Ziyuan to reconnect with Jiang Fengmian, but she had at last, and she attributed it all to a rogue cultivator named Zhu Mochou.
II. Regrets
“Jin Zixuan, wipe that sulky frown right off your face! This is a good opportunity, and it’s about time you realize what it’s like not to have someone wait on you hand and foot,” snaps Madame Jin. Her true name is Rong Ruying, but after she took over the Lanling Jin Clan, no one dares refer to her as anything other than “Madame Jin.”
“Yes, Mother.” Jin Zixuan bristles, however. He finds the Jinlintai safe and warm and home . He doesn’t want to leave the place where he is the intelligent, talented heir.
He doesn’t want to be the boy whose parents divorced, and he is that boy, at least out here. He’ll have to prove them wrong, and though he knows he will, it’s exhausting. It’s even more exhausting to have to defend his two brothers and sister, who are still treated poorly even in Lanling, and it hurts him to see it.
And he doesn’t want to see her , if he’s honest.
He was excited about this adventure until he found out Jiang Yanli was coming, and then he felt trapped, trapped, trapped.
“You too, Jin Zixun. I expect full adherence to the rules. Don’t think you’re above them!” Madame Jin turns to her nephew, who nods quickly just to get it over with.
His cultivation is low, or so Jin Zixun heard Madame Jin say so when they discussed sending him. And it filled him with shame, so much so that he punched a servant, disappointing his aunts all the more. And his aunts are all he has, after his uncle apparently poisoned his own brother and his wife.
Madame Jin turns to her youngest, gentling her voice. “Mo Xuanyu, listen to your brothers.”
Mo Xuanyu is only fourteen, a bit younger than most in the Cloud Recesses, but she’d met with Lan Qiren to explain that he did best studying with his brothers and cousin, and Lan Qiren had eventually agreed to accept him as a student.
“Yes, Mother.” Mo Xuanyu nods, his eyes ever full of daydreams.
“Meng Yao.” She turns to the middle child and sighs.
“Mother, I will look out for everyone,” Meng Yao says kindly. “There’s no need to worry.”
“Well, you’re not the one I’m worried about.” She tugs on his half-up ponytail, and he smiles at her. “I’m worried about the headaches they’ll cause for you , A-Yao.”
Of the four of them, he is the only one to bow before leaving her side, even though she’s long since told him that he doesn’t need to bow to his mother.
“No, Sisi, don’t help them unpack. It’s time they did it themselves,” she says to her wife’s best friend. “Come with me.”
Maiden Meng Sisi nods and follows Madame Jin as she stalks down the pathway to her friend’s cottage.
She can’t stay too long; although she is the leader of the Lanling Jin Clan and rules with an iron fist, many are still disgruntled that a woman without Jin blood has deposed Jin Guangshan, and her wives aren’t often treated with respect when she’s not there.
A-Shi is brilliant but scorned for her past prostitution, and as an uneducated villager, A-Yan is not treated much better. Still, she’ll never regret her decision to marry two women and adopt their children.
Six years earlier, she had been filled with enough regret to last a lifetime.
Her husband’s subordinate and close friend, Qin Cangye, had brought his little girl to meet Jin Zixuan and Jin Zixun. All had seemed well until Madame Jin noticed that the girl had the same golden-brown eyes as her son and her nephew.
The same eyes as her husband.
Her blood cold, she had swept Madame Qin, always the nervous and shy sort, into another room.
“How long?” she’d demanded.
“How long?” Madame Qin repeated, perplexed.
Madame Jin slapped her then, slapped her hard enough that she fell to her knees. “Are you still sleeping with my husband?”
Madame Qin remained on her knees. She frantically shook her head and begged, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Why does Qin Cangye’s daughter have the same eyes as my husband, as my child, as my nephew? It’s not a common shade!” Madame Jin raised her voice.
Madame Qin gasped. “Please don’t shout, I am begging you. I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you everything, just don’t shout.”
Madame Jin scowled. “Then speak.”
Madame Qin anxiously pulled at her robes. “It was only once, I swear, during the summer.”
Only once . Madame Jin fights a snort.
“He accompanied A-Ye and myself and several others during a night-hunt in Laoling. To celebrate our success, there was a lot of drinking. I’ve never been able to drink much, and I was exhausted, so I retired early. He departed not long after, and I had just begun taking off my robes when he staggered into my room, drunk.”
Madame Jin’s breath stilled.
Madame Qin buried her burning face in her hands. “I tried to guide him out, to push him away. I pleaded with him, but he said that I was so pretty, it was a shame A-Ye and I didn’t have children, that he was my guest and I should treat him nicely. He said, ‘You’re such a nice, meek woman, I wish I’d had the chance to know you before you were married.’ I thought that was it, that he’d remembered A-Ye and would stop.”
Should she believe this? Madame Jin wasn’t sure. She waited, deliberating.
“He was so strong, and then I was on my bed, and I don’t know why I didn’t scream, only that I didn’t want to cause a fight when everyone was drunk. I tried to pretend it didn’t happen, but then I conceived Qin Su, and it’s true, you know – I do not think A-Ye can have children. I’ve miscarried dozens of times before and after. So I told myself I would pretend the child was his, tell him she was born early, and he would be happy, and no one would know.” Madame Qin wiped her eyes.
Her voice cracked. “And A-Su is good. She does not deserve to be judged for her conception.”
Madame Jin was too shocked for words. Surprised, not much; she’d seen Jin Guangshan’s eyes follow Madame Qin even during her own pregnancy with Jin Zixuan. But an affair was not what Madame Qin described.
How many others had suffered this fate?
“I swear to you, I would never betray my husband. I know it sounds suspicious, but I’ve told the truth,” pled Madame Qin. “Please, let’s both forget this.”
“I think not,” Madame Jin said coldly.
“What?” Madame Qin seemed on the verge of panic.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do; it’s bad enough that he fucks prostitutes, but that he takes his best friend’s wife by force –” Madame Jin shook her head. “In the words of Purple Spider: I have had enough.”
She laughed coldly. “I suggest you speak openly with your husband. If he truly loves you, and he seems to, he will not turn on you. If I believe you, I am certain he will, too. I, meanwhile, have a plan to concoct.”
Madame Qin’s mouth hung open as Madame Jin hauled her to her feet. “D-divorce?”
“Ha! Do not worry. I have no intention of divorcing him and becoming scorn to all society. I am going to overthrow him,” declared Madame Jin. “If your husband backs me, it avoids a direct confrontation between your smaller clan and Lanling. Keeps Qin Su from becoming the focal issue. Talk to Tingshan He Clan too; they’ve always loathed us.”
Madame Qin nodded slowly as Madame Jin began to pace.
She needed more evidence of his unfit nature, to be sure. More than Qin Cangye and Clan Leader He. Yunmeng Jiang would back her, seeing as Meng Shi and her spawn had been living with them for a few months by now. Gusu Lan would back her if Yu Ziyuan could persuade Madame Lan, but they had no additional evidence.
Qinghe Nie’s young leader had no true power after the death of his father, and Wen Ruohan would absolutely oppose a woman over her obsequious husband.
And then she recalled the letter.
The letter had asked her to come to Mo Village, claiming that her husband had been visiting for years and raising a child there, a child to overthrow Jin Zixuan.
At the time, Madame Jin had no intentions of seeing another of her husband’s bastards. In fact, she thought it highly unlikely, considering Jin Guangshan frequently bragged about Jin Zixuan. In fact, he was filling Jin Zixuan’s head with the notion that he was special, and that disgusted Madame Jin because her greatest fear was her son becoming more like her husband.
Most likely the letter was written by a woman had had a child and wanted money.
But just in case, she decided to visit Mo Village the next morning.
Upon her arrival, she quickly grew impatient with Madame Mo’s flattery and remarks about her son’s great potential, an obvious attempt to persuade Madame Jin to take her brat back to the Lanling Jin Clan.
And what husband sat around while his wife recounted her affair with another man, and had no issues with it? Even if the man was a rich cultivator, surely her adultery infuriated him. This was a pathetic sham.
Madame Jin was all set to box the woman’s ears and leave. But just as she considered it, a child screamed.
She and Madame Mo had rushed to the courtyard, where two larger boys were beating a delicate-looking child. Madame Jin immediately tossed the larger boys aside and drew her sword.
Children responded to swords. In fact, all three stared in awe.
Madame Jin and turned to the small child, dressed in rags not even befitting a servant. A street orphan, no doubt. His hair was worn in a messy ponytail, covering his eyes.
She spoke loudly. “You want me to help you beat him up?”
The boy gasped. He shook his head and brushed his hair out of his eyes, which grew wider and wider.
And that was when she’d seen their color.
A cold feeling washed over her.
“Who’s kid is this?” she’d demanded at Madame Mo. In disgust, she also noted that Madame Mo was comforting the bullies instead of disciplining them.
“He’s the bastard,” says a pudgy boy whose small, beady eyes resemble Madame Mo’s. He did not at all resemble Jin Guangshan. Judging from the other bully’s clothing, he appeared to be a servant.
“Be quiet!” Madame Mo slapped her son’s head.
Madame Jin laughed coldly. “So you’ll strike your son for telling the truth, but not for bullying someone smaller? Boys!”
She pointed her sword at the two bullies. “Everyone, woman or man or bastard or heir, is special. And you are no more special than anyone else.”
She whirled around to the little bastard, her husband’s bastard, who was definitely not Madame Mo’s son. “You, take me to your mother.”
“I am his mother,” said Madame Mo.
“Wha sort of mother lets her other son bully someone else without discipline?” Madame Jin scowled. “You were set to tell me the boy you are holding was my husband’s son.”
The bully frowned. “Mom? What is she talking about?”
As he asked, the little boy behind her lost control of his fear. He tried to run.
With a roll of her eyes, Madame Jin leapt on her sword to chase after.
As expected, once she passed him, hovering just above the ground, the child skidded to a halt.
“You want to ride on a sword? The price is you show me to your mother.” Madame Jin sighed. “I won’t hurt her.”
The boy slowly nodded, and he took her hand when she offered it.
He directed her to a tiny shed not on the streets, but right here, at Mo Manor. A shed , when Madame Mo had an entire manor.
When Madame Jin burst into the woman’s shed, she wasn’t surprised at all to find a terrified woman gaping at her.
The woman was barely twenty. She wore her hair in a loose braid, with a round and pleasing face that even Madame Jin found attractive, though one cheek was severely swollen with a purple bruise.
“What is your name?” demanded Madame Jin.
“Mo Siyan.” The woman bowed. An atrocious bow, but Madame Jin still preferred it to Madame Mo’s insincerity.
From Mo Siyan’s expression, she evidently recognized who Madame Jin was. Perhaps she had recognized the colors and realized that an angry woman bursting in her door could only be the wife of her lover.
“Mom?” Mo Xuanyu, as he was apparently named, released Madame Jin’s hand to totter towards his mother.
Mo Siyan immediately shook her head.
“Wait outside, A-Yu!” She spoke more harshly than she meant, and tears filled her eyes as she turned back to Madame Jin.
“He’s in no danger. Neither are you. Yet.” Madame Jin closed the door behind them, keeping the child safe with them. “You recognize this clan uniform, I suppose?”
Mo Siyan lowered her head. “I presume you are Madame Jin.”
“Yes, I’m the wife of Jin Guangshan.”
Mo Siyan jerked. She wrapped her arms tighter around Mo Xuanyu. “If you’re here for revenge, please, I am begging you, I’ll let you do what you wish with me, but please allow Mo Xuanyu to return with you. My sister – he’ll die here.”
Madame Jin saw red. “Just what has he said to you about me?”
Mo Siyan cowered.
“Can you even answer?”
Mo Siyan shook her head, quivering.
“Then answer me this: how long have you been engaging in this affair with my husband? Your son looks about eight or so, but I’d like to know.”
Mo Siyan frowned. “He is eight...but C-Clan Leader Jin hasn’t been here since A-Yu was four.”
Madame Jin’s eyes narrow.
Mo Siyan flinched. “I swear, I tell the truth!”
Four years! That was a long time.
Madame Jin shook her head as the truth began to emerge in her mind. She should have known he would not spend eight years with the same woman. “I assume you are not the one who wrote the letter claiming that Jin Guangshan was raising another child to replace my own son?”
Mo Siyan blinked. “I – I don’t even know how to read.”
Madame Jin frowned.
Mo Siyan hurried to explain. “I’m only the daughter of a servant and the late Master of Mo. After my father died, my sister never let me learn. A-Yu and I are just burdens to her.”
No wonder Jin Guangshan had spent four years with this pliable, pitiful woman. Madame Jin’s rage grows. “But your sister can read, I see.”
Given Mo Siyan’s timid nature and the way she flinched at every sudden movement, Madame Jin felt certain the sister had written the letter hoping to give her child a chance at cultivation, or, if not, rid herself of her half-sister and her progeny.
“Hmmph.” Well, Jin Guangshan abandoned his lover to this terrible fate. And if that prostitute and her husband’s bastard can live at Lotus Pier, why can’t Madame Jin bring another mistress home with her? “Pack up your things. I suspect your sister wants to be rid of you, but I’m in the mood to spite her and my good-for-nothing husband. You and Mo Xuanyu are coming to the Jinlintai with me.”
Mo Siyan stared at her in shock.
“Well? Do you want to stay here?” She demanded. “Get moving!”
As Meng Sisi pushes open the door to see Madame Lan and Madame Yu, both contentedly sipping tea in the former’s gentian-adorned cottage – and the beloved friends Yinzhu and Jinzhu with them – Madame Jin has no regrets about her actions that day or in the five years since.
III. Falling Down
“A-Su is here!” Mo Xuanyu scrambles outside to see Bicao, Madame Qin’s maid, and two girls in the rose-gold uniforms of the Laoling Qin Clan.
Qin Su smiles at her brothers and cousin. Her voice is playful; she’s long known her relationship with her siblings. “We’ll finally get to live together for a few months, it seems.”
“You’ll have to help keep them in line,” Jin Zixuan says.
“Um, I recall Auntie asking A-Yao to keep us in line, not you,” objects Jin Zixun, prompting a scowl from Jin Zixuan.
“A-Su will just join in the mischief, won’t she?” Mo Xuanyu giggles.
“I’ll join in any and all mischief approved by A-Yao,” Qin Su promises. “Because if he agrees, it’s either not that bad, or we are guaranteed to get away with it.”
She beams at her closest brother, and in response, Meng Yao hugs her tightly.
“Oh, this is Luo Qingyang,” says Qin Su after a moment. “You’ve all heard me mention Mianmian before; my friend from Laoling Qin Clan.”
“The servant’s daughter,” Jin Zixun says.
Qin Su wrinkles her nose. “You sound so uptight when you say that, A-Xun.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Maiden Luo.” Jin Zixuan bows to her with full respect, prompting Mo Xuanyu and Meng Yao to follow suit.
Meng Yao can’t help but worry, though; he sees Jin Zixuan’s chivalry less as genuine and more as another attempt to end his engagement to Jiang Yanli.
Meng Yao spent a year in Lotus Pier with Mother and Sisi before they moved to the Jinlintai. The eldest Jiang girl is a lovely person, brilliant and brave and the best cook he’s ever met, but she’s not talented in cultivation nor interested in it. And that, to Jin Zixuan, renders her utterly boring, no matter how much Meng Yao has tried to persuade him. Meng Yao finds this tragic.
Luo Qingyang bows in return. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet all of A-Su’s brothers.”
“And cousin,” says Jin Zixun, and Meng Yao notices Qin Su bite her lip.
Meng Yao stifles a laugh. Luo Qingyang left A-Xun out on purpose, didn’t she? Good for her.
He feels hopeful as he looks about their group. A daughter born in scandalous circumstances. A servant’s daughter. A villager’s son. A prostitute’s son. Certainly the title prostitute’s son is still the worst, but with so many who aren’t from the best circumstances, perhaps he will not be so despised after all. Besides, Wei Wuxian is here, and he’s a servant’s son, too.
The Gusu Lan Clan is pious, he knows, and pious people spit on him, but perhaps they will have that rare sort of piety that actually follows what they teach.
And once he fulfills his mission here, no one will be able to hate him.
Still, it’s best to appease his peers as soon as he can. Meng Yao remembers the water-bottles in his room and the tired expressions on the faces of the Lan disciples who directed them to their quarters.
He excuses himself to fetch the water bottles, which are ornately carved and beautiful. He’d packed extra for his journey with his brothers and cousin, but they didn’t get as thirsty in the cooler mountains as they usually did in Lanling.
“Thank you,” says one disciple, with a strange look on his face as he accepts the wooden bottle.
“I wouldn’t drink it,” says the other, stopping his friend. “That’s the prostitute’s son.”
And then Meng Yao is flailing, seeing red, falling down the stairs again as he bows to them anyway, clinging to the smile on his face like armor, before turning and walking away slowly. No rushing, not like he wants to.
In his mind, he’s five and too scared to scream as a man pushes him into a closet, because if he screams Mom will get in trouble with the Madame again, but he really doesn't like the way the man grabs him, and then Sisi is upon him and clawing half the man’s face off before dragging Meng Yao back to Meng Shi. And Mom is crying and telling him it’s okay to scream if anyone tries to hurt him again.
And then he’s eleven and someone does try, and Mom slaps the man, and then Meng Yao is screaming Mom, Mom, Mom, as a man drags her by her hair and throws her outside, and he’s thrown down the stairs trying to save her.
When he awakens, Mom and Sisi are watching him, and Sisi assures him that she rescued Mom, and then they stand in surprise because an elegant man in purple has entered their room.
But today, in the Cloud Recesses, his potential savior is not a man in purple but a towering man in black.
IV. Protection
“Nie Huaisang, if you neglect your studies –”
“I won’t,” Nie Huaisang says quickly, although he won’t practice his saber, either, and both he and Da-Ge know it.
Nie Mingjue sighs, though he rubs his brother’s head affectionately. Sometimes he wonders what life would be like if Father hadn’t died, if he hadn’t had to look after Nie Huaisang when he was still young. Nie Huaisang had never been the most eager cultivator, but he had never been behind in cultivation until Father died.
Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he was too soft on his weeping, grieving little brother. Maybe he was too wrapped up in the overwhelming wave that was running a clan.
Well, that was five years ago, and Nie Huaisang is now the same age that Nie Mingjue was when he became their clan leader. He hopes, fervently, that Lan Qiren can discipline his brother back onto the saber path. Perhaps the contemplative Cloud Recesses will rouse Nie Huaisang’s fighting spirit, because Nie Mingjue’s harsh discipline certainly hasn’t worked.
Nie Huaisang smiles. “I’ll even try to follow most of these stuffy rules, Da-Ge.”
“You’ll follow all of them, or I’ll break your legs,” snaps Nie Mingjue, but both brothers chuckle.
They’re interrupted as a youth in gold hurries towards them.
“Ah, the beast’s head. You must be the Second Master of Nie! And you are … Chifeng-Zun.” The boy bows to him first, then Huaisang. “I can help you to your quarters, Second Master.”
“Call me Nie Huaisang,” says Nie Huaisang.
Nie Mingjue frowns. The boy is kind and polite, but he believes this is Meng Yao, the Jin boy. Something seems strange. “Why aren’t the Gusu Lan juniors helping?”
Meng Yao looks slightly embarrassed. “It’s nothing.”
Nie Mingjue raises an eyebrow. But when he steps forward, he hears two youths in Gusu Lan Clan uniforms whispering to each other. “Was that really him?”
“Yes, would I lie? That’s the prostitute’s son,” says the second.
The first is surprised. “He looks so…normal. I expected him to be diseased.”
“No, just his mother.” The second lowers his voice, but there’s glee in his tone. “How could she not after enough stallions mounted her?”
“Pfft.” The first laughs, but he seems uncomfortable. “I’m afraid to be in a classroom with him. But he is nice… ”
“He brought us this water just to earn our friendship, I bet. Because he knows he’ll need our help. I doubt someone with prostitute's blood can achieve a strong cultivation,” says the second, all importantly, as if he knows better.
Nie Huaisang recognizes that look on his brother’s face. “Um, Da-Ge –”
Nie Mingjue bursts around the corner. “Does the second rule on your Wall of Discipline not prohibit ‘speaking ill of others behind their backs?’ Does the thirty-first not command you to be ‘strict with yourself,’ and the thirty-second command you to ‘be easy on others?’”
Nie Mingjue’s hand lands on the hilt of Baxia. His eyes flash dangerously.
Both youths are too afraid to speak a word.
When they say nothing, Nie Mingjue laughs with rage. They’re not worth any more time. “Nie Huaisang, follow Meng Yao. Meng Yao, worry about your own righteousness. Don’t concern yourself with the talk of these idlers.”
Meng Yao nods slowly. He seems flustered, but he quickly pulls Nie Huaisang after him. “Thank you, Clan Leader Nie.”
Nie Mingjue watches them go, his mind set.
He knows his way to one particular location in the Cloud Recesses, as if he too came here to learn, but in reality he’s just participated in enough Discussion Conferences and visited Lan Xichen a few times, just enough to know the way.
He had been invited to learn, but that was shortly after Father died, and he could not have his first actions be leaving his clan for many months.
He’d been surprised when scrolls and a list of 3,000 rules appeared in Qinghe. Lan Xichen had met him a few times before at various feasts and conferences, and they’d admired each other’s skills and discipline. But now the boy was sending him materials so that he could at least learn some of what was taught, even if he couldn’t go. And Nie Mingjue’s anger had faded gradually throughout that year. For the first time in his life, he felt he had a friend.
He knocks on the door to the Hanshi, Lan Xichen’s residence as the heir to the Gusu Lan Clan. There’s bamboo outside and a host of flowers inside; in the corner, he sees that Lan Xichen is painting a sprig of rue.
Lan Xichen is artistic, but also a strong cultivator. Nie Mingjue has hope that Huaisang will become likewise.
“Clan Leader Nie. I didn’t realize you were coming with Nie Huaisang.” Lan Xichen wears his ever-present smile, but it’s a smile that has never once seemed insincere to Nie Mingjue.
“I wanted to ensure that Nie Huaisang knew how seriously he must take his studies,” Nie Mingjue says. “I’ll fly back to Qinghe this evening.”
“I see. That’s a pity,” says Lan Xichen. “I can keep a watch on Nie Huaisang’s studies from time to time, if you’d like.”
“That may be good,” admits Nie Mingjue.
Lan Xichen nods, and smiles all the more.
“But there’s someone else I want you to keep an eye on.”
“Who is it? Did something happen?” Lan Xichen hears the irritation in Nie Mingjue’s voice, and he can’t help but feel alarmed.
“You have the Jin quartet on your hands this year.”
“Yes, that will be quite fun. Uncle is still apoplectic about the divorce and three women married to each other.” Lan Xichen raises an eyebrow. “But there is, notably, no rule against it.”
Nie Mingjue growls. “Well, despite your clan rules, Nie Huaisang and I overheard plenty of callous remarks about Meng Yao’s background after he had apparently gifted two Gusu Lan disciples water.”
Lan Xichen frowns. He knows who Meng Yao is, though he’s never seen him. Of all of them, Meng Yao is probably the easiest target. “Juniors can be quite cruel.”
“The boy deserves a better chance if he’s honest and upright,” says Nie Mingjue stiffly.
“You wish for me to protect him?” Lan Xichen’s eyes crinkle at the soft heart Nie Mingjue hides under his ever-present temper. “Very well.”
He stops for a moment, because just then, a sea of gold enters his vision outside the Hanshi. A girl who must be Qin Su, dressed in rose and gold, Jin Zixuan whom Lan Xichen does recognize, and two boys he doesn’t. One wears his hair so messily Uncle will surely chastise him for it, and the other –
The smaller of the two wears his hair half-up in a ponytail, and when he smiles meekly at Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen, two deep dimples bloom, one on each cheek. He stops and bows to both of them.
“Young Master Lan, Chifeng-Zun, we meet again,” he says. “Your brother is unpacking; he’s in the same room as Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian.”
Lan Xichen stops him mid-bow.
“There’s no need,” he says, grabbing his hands, but his voice sounds strange, flustered, and all he can think is that the grace of Meng Yao’s bow took his breath away.
But that’s not it, not exactly. Meng Yao is the most beautiful person he has ever seen, and for the first time in his life, heat floods his body, and his hand is unconsciously stroking Meng Yao’s, and right now, he wants protection, too.