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Whispers move through Lotus Pier like wind through the reeds, as they always have, and today is no different.
Today Jiang Yanli sits alone in a shrouded pavilion by the lakeshore, afforded a veneer of privacy by the fluttering silk panels, holding the pieces of a life that had been meticulously planned for her since birth, now shattered beyond repair, like shards of a teapot dropped by clumsy hands.
That's where Auntie Hua finds her, endearments leaving her lips on a sigh, as easy as breath. "Oh, a-Li. My dear girl." Hua Ruyan kneels beside Jiang Yanli, drawing her in, squeezing tight enough to crush the dull ache in Yanli’s chest.
Yanli pillows her cheek on the fine golden silk of Auntie Hua's jacket and lets herself feel all of it: disappointment, loneliness, the relief of a warm body and release.
"Your mother's not here?" Jiang Yanli nods without lifting her head. "Of course," Auntie Hua says, frustrated but fond, the same tone she's used a thousand times to playfully mock her A-Yuan's temper, while Jiang Yanli watched — first a child, now a young lady — as her mother became someone else, so unlike the mother she knew.
Auntie Hua's fingers stroke through the loose fall of Jiang Yanli's hair, rhythmic and slow, like comforting Yanli is her most pressing task, more important than discussing a former engagement or seeking out her dearest friend.
It's an impulsive decision, barely thought through, but—
Mother and father's furious argument at the gates, moments after father and A-Xian's feet hit the lacquered rosewood, ended the way their fights often ended: with mother storming out of Lotus Pier, bound somewhere else to release her frustration on a target she could decisively strike and kill, while father retreated to his office after a brief and awkward explanation. Isn't it better this way? I am sure this decision is for the best, though it might not seem so right now.
A-Xian, fresh from Cloud Recesses, lingered just long enough for Jiang Yanli to pull him into a hug and reassure him that all would be well. Comfort taken, he disappeared with the shidis to play on the lake, smiling in anticipation of fun, fleeing mother's wrath and Jiang Yanli's complicated feelings and any lingering hint of discomfort.
A-Cheng would seek out his sister, ask how she feels in his awkward way, but he won't be home for months. For now she might hope for a letter.
— Jiang Yanli presses her mouth to golden silk and lets herself be held, lets herself feel more than she should.
Whispers move through Carp Tower like the subtle rasp of a snake tasting the air on its tongue, as they always have, and today is no different.
Today, Auntie Hua welcomes Jiang Yanli back from the frontline camps with open arms, kinder than Jiang Yanli has any right to expect, offering her home and protection without question. Maybe the strain shows on her face. A-Xian and A-Cheng are all that's left of their family; leaving them to the battlefield, changed and battered as they are, feels intolerable.
Her brothers are at least well-fed as they rejoin the fight. Jiang Yanli’s last effort to salvage anything with Jin Zixuan — for duty, for her mother's memory, to fix some small part of the ruin of her life — ended worse than before, in accusations and fists.
Jiang Yanli should feel worse about it.
It's hard to feel bothered in Auntie Hua's embrace.
She tries to redirect her thoughts.
In another life, this woman would have been Jiang Yanli’s mother in her married home. None of the passing disciples or servants would think twice of a mother and daughter celebrating their reunion with an embrace.
In this life?
In the ruins of one possible future, Hua Ruyan is the person Yanli can’t imagine letting go of. Touches and glances linger the longer she stays in Lanling. Yanli gets caught looking and catches Auntie Hua looking in turn.
Always wondering: Do you see me or her?
It isn't a fair question; Jiang Yanli is the one who's here. Jiang Yanli favours her father in looks. There's little, if anything, of Yu Ziyuan in her daughter.
Hua Ruyan is not the mother who raised Jiang Yanli.
What would it feel like to be wanted by someone who truly saw her?
Whispers pass by Hua Ruyan's private wing like the distant babbling and singing of birds, as they always have, and today is no different.
Today, the servants steer clear of the latched door, for fear of inviting Madam Jin's ire. Their voices carry from the hallway and courtyard, muted by caution and distance, accustomed to walking on light feet through a household always poised on the brink of an outburst.
Carp Tower is always listening.
Jiang Yanli tries to match their hushed tones, swallowing a sigh.
Hua Ruyan pulls away from her chest, leaving behind a bloom of darker colour on the fabric of Jiang Yanli's blush pink hezi, an areola of spit-dampened silk that rings the peaked nipple underneath.
There's no smear of her lip stain on the cloth; did it stain Jiang Yanli's mouth first?
How much better would that mouth feel on her bare breast?
A feeling like static builds under Jiang Yanli's skin as she arches her chest. "Auntie Hua?"
Hua Ruyan closes her eyes and breathes deeply, taking a moment to compose herself that leaves Jiang Yanli in an emotional lurch; surely she'll push Jiang Yanli away and redraw a line that's been crossed. The mark of her wet mouth will fade. "A-Yan," she corrects instead, her voice firm, warm and inviting and everything Jiang Yanli wants.
A-Yan, mother's laughing voice calls out in her memory, as coveted and rare as a glance from an immortal. Few people could draw a smile out of the ever-serious Yu Ziyuan.
"A-Yan, please." Jiang Yanli's voice shivers with how much she wants.
Mother's direct, unsympathetic voice rings again in Jiang Yanli's memory: It will hurt. You will just have to bear it. Marital duty was a duty like any other to Yu Ziyuan.
Hua Ruyan's hair remains in its matronly updo, secured by pins. Jiang Yanli grabs the seating mats to avoid pulling it out of place as Hua Ruyan ducks between her parted qun skirt and thighs, folded up to slip off her inner pants. Hooking her knees up brings A-Yan's mouth close enough to feel each exhale, a warm brush of air over the wetness between her legs that's quickly replaced by a suckling kiss.
Hua Ruyan's delicate fingers splay flat across her navel, holding Jiang Yanli still, and all she can do is take.
"Mmm." Jiang Yanli's body pulls taut, and a whimper startles out of her open mouth, too loud for the quiet room and distant chatter, oversensitive for how little Hua Ruyan has touched her. It's no time at all before she bucks against the warm mouth and hand grounding her.
Fingers slide into the core of her, pulsing and alive with her first climax, the bite of the edge of a blunt nail adding an edge to her pleasure. Hua Ruyan draws a deep shuddering breath against her soft pubic hair before returning her mouth to Jiang Yanli's clit, lathing the oversensitive skin with fast, deliberate licks, fingers pulsing deeper, drawing out her pleasure until it feels nearly unbearable.
Jiang Yanli spreads her legs, hips rolling in tight circles, panting breaths straining her hezi and ru and the hand that's slowly worked up from her abdomen to her breast. Pleasure ebbs and flows, endless, the gushing swell of a tide, until careful footsteps cut through the haze.
"Furen?"
Jiang Yanli slaps a palm to her mouth.
Hua Ruyan rises, effortlessly fixing a few errant strands of hair. Her mouth, her brief kiss, tastes like Jiang Yanli. ”Wait here for me, a-Li.”