Chapter Text
The sun rose a little while ago, but Koi Tower is still dim and dark beneath an overcast sky. The pressure in the air is doing strange things to the instruments, and Jin Guangyao and Su Minshan have been tuning and retuning their guqins together since it was full dark. Finally Su Minshan is satisfied and plays a lilting melody that sounds enlivening but has the effect of dulling Jin Guangyao's spiritual power. When he stops playing, renewed heat floods through Jin Guangyao's golden core like a sunrise.
"Remarkable," says Jin Guangyao. Su Minshan glows with pleasure, which makes Jin Guangyao glow in turn for being able to inspire such delight with a simple compliment. This kind of power is so heady he must take care not to lose his wits.
"I only extrapolated from Lianfang-zun's original idea," says Su Minshan. "The technique is still unrefined and quite ineffective, not approaching the subtlety of your work with Cleansing."
"Don't be modest, Minshan. This is quite an achievement, and proves the flexibility of the technique if there is enough preparation." Jin Guangyao plucks a single note on the guqin, and sharpens the edges of his smile. "Besides, we cannot have full confidence in my work with Cleansing as I haven't yet had a chance to test it on the intended subject."
"It worked well when you tested it on me."
"True. You promise you're no longer coughing up blood?" Jin Guangyao smiles again when Su Minshan nods, and plays a few more notes. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Su Minshan picks at his own guqin.
"I'm honoured be of help to Lianfang-zun."
Jin Guangyao cannot ever truly relax, but at this moment he is as close to being at peace as he can ever be. He is in the company of a loyal man, and though even in Lanling the bite of winter is in the air he has every confidence his ambitions will soon bear fruit. Lan Xichen has written to confirm he will be visiting Koi Tower and that Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang will accompany him. This is to be their grand reconciliation. When Jin Guangyao thinks of it he feels sick, and yet he cannot stop thinking of it.
"If you can perfect this technique of disguised melody I will be greatly indebted to you. I am only sorry it must remain a secret between us and the innovation of the Moling Su cannot be used to grow the sect's reputation."
"I'm the one repaying a debt," says Su Minshan. "The Moling Su would have failed by now without your support. The arrogance of—" His fingers fall from the strings. "I apologise."
"For what?"
"I don't wish to speak ill of your sworn brother."
"So courteous," Jin Guangyao smiles. "I know my dear er-ge would not want anyone to hold their tongue if they had cause to complain. You can tell me what you really think."
"I have no cause to complain about Zewu-jun," Su Minshan hastens to assure him. "Only the Gusu Lan, in general. The culture of cold arrogance, which Zewu-jun does not share."
"Though he is sect leader and therefore responsible for the ways and mores of his clan."
"He is—perhaps—blinkered. Having been raised in such great privilege he does not see the darker side of such inflexible ways. He is far better than Hanguang-jun, who measures everyone's corn by his own bushel."
"I believe Hanguang-jun is currently reflecting on his failure to adhere to the inflexible ways of the Lan," says Jin Guangyao mildly. Su Minshan wilts.
"I truly meant no offence."
"And I'm truly not offended. I understand you completely. It is a fault at the heart of every sect, I fear, but I think we will see a changed man when Hanguang-jun next deigns to attend a conference. As for Er-ge... he is the best man on this earth, in my eyes. But even the best men have their biases. And I am not obliged to share his feelings, or to agree with him. He does not expect that of me."
"Only Chifeng-zun expects that," says Su Minshan, with a daring sideways look. Jin Guangyao continues to smile beatifically.
"Da-ge is a principled man."
Su Minshan begins to play again, an indolent tune with no spiritual power behind it. He has quite lovely hands, and his fingers move with a gentle grace that is entirely missing from his face with its thin lips and narrow eyes that lends itself best to scowls. Jin Guangyao likes that about him: that he does not, cannot, adopt a false and more pleasant mien.
They do not have as much time together as Jin Guangyao would like. His duties call him, not least the the arrival of Sandu Shengshou to collect Jin Ling for the season. Jiang Wanyin has discovered a measure of self-assurance since the death of Wei Wuxian and must now be manipulated with more subtlety rather than simply browbeaten in public.
If Jin Guangyao is honest with himself, which he usually tries to be, he takes pleasure in seeing Jiang Wanyin stride up the steps of Koi Tower bellowing for his nephew, and pleasure in seeing Jin Ling tear free of his grandparents to run to Jiang Wanyin bellowing in turn for his jiujiu. The fact that Jin Guangshan and his wife cannot fully disguise their sour expressions is an additional bonus.
His own jealousy is quite another matter.
"Hey!" says Jiang Wanyin when he lifts Jin Ling into his arms and Jin Ling immediately grabs a handful of hair and yanks. "Where are your manners? I'll give you back if you're going to act like this."
"No!" wails Jin Ling, and releases his handful of Jiang Wanyin's hair when Jiang Wanyin gives him a twist of paper containing a few lotus seeds.
It's impossible for Jiang Wanyin to bow correctly when he has one arm holding his nephew against his hip, but he jerks his head in a nod and Jin Guangyao answers with a bow to the correct depth, allowing everyone else to treat Jiang Wanyin's gesture as though it had been a properly respectful greeting.
If only Jiang Wanyin had possessed this surety when he had first become Jiang-zongzhu, things might have been far more difficult for the Jin. Now it hardly matters.
With the formal greetings out of the way, Jin Guangyao's presence as a glorified official is no longer needed. Jin Ling's real family gather around him to dote on him collectively and Jin Guangyao is left to dismiss the remaining disciples and attendants and ensure the Jiang contingent are seen to their quarters.
Dinner is more bearable. Mo Xuanyu is suffering a bout of despondency and has been given permission to dine alone in his room, which means one less thing to keep an eye on, and Su Minshan is seated adjacent to several Jiang disciples as a listening ear. Jin Guangyao himself is near Jiang Wanyin, and after a plethora of courteous speeches and toasts he is finally able to nibble on some pork and drink some water to mitigate the wine he had no choice but to sip throughout.
Jin Ling has already left his place at his grandmother's side and joined Jiang Wanyin, who this time doesn't immediately admonish him for his bad manners but sits him on his lap and tells him about Lotus Pier, making it sound like the pinnacle of any toddler's dream. Jin Ling listens with his mouth hanging open in fascination, then grabs at a nearby spoon.
"Don't you know how to ask politely?" demands Jiang Wanyin, already ladling up some sweet dessert soup for his nephew to sip.
Jin Guangyao drinks more water, savours the sour look on Jin-furen's face, and pretends he isn't also listening to the gossip at the next table in case he hears anything useful. He doesn't immediately notice Jiang Wanyin addressing him, and when he realises he offers a chagrined smile.
"How can I assist?"
"He says he's never eaten frogs."
"I'm not responsible for A-Ling's diet, but it's possible."
"When you're in Yunmeng you're eating frogs," Jiang Wanyin tells Jin Ling.
"No!"
"You'll eat what you're given!"
"Your mama liked to eat frogs," says Jin Guangyao. Jin Ling's screwed-up face unscrews instantly.
"Mama?"
Jin Guangyao looks at Jiang Wanyin, who is still scowling but takes his cue and answers graciously enough.
"Not her favourite, but she did eat them. Mostly at festivals, from the vendors who came up from south of Yunmeng. They'd fry up the legs in spices and we'd laugh at them and say they must have forgotten to add any spice at all." He shakes himself and gathers Jin Ling back into his lap.
"I want frogs!" says Jin Ling, and points at Jin Guangyao with the spoon before Jiang Wanyin pries it from his grasp. "And shushu."
"Ah, I won't be going with you," says Jin Guangyao. As a general rule he will eat almost anything, but he never had much opportunity to sample such delicacies in his own childhood so at least he doesn't know what he is missing out on. He smiles at Jin Ling and doesn't dare reach out and pat his hair gleaming with its decorative beads.
"Why?" asks Jin Ling.
"I have lots of work to do here, Lingling."
"Oh," says Jin Ling. "Soup, jiujiu!"
"Say please!" snaps Jiang Wanyin, already bringing another spoonful of soup to Jin Ling's waiting mouth. Jin Guangyao bestows a faint smile on them both as a punctuation mark and looks back at his own bowl so he eat and listen in on a conversation between two senior Jin disciples. They're speculating as to whether Nie Mingjue will really show his face in Lanling, which is foolish in the extreme. But Jin Guangyao says nothing. What matters is knowing people are expecting another confrontation between the Nie and the Jin, whatever form it takes.
He relays this to his father later that night, before his father dismisses him and leaves Koi Tower to seek out one of his favoured pleasure houses. Jin Guangyao sleeps fitfully and at dawn checks with a servant to confirm that Jin-zongzhu is indeed back in his bed.
With no need to fetch his father, there is time to pay a brief visit to Xue Yang, still ostensibly imprisoned but in underground chambers that are fit for any favoured disciple. Jiangzai is currently held in the secret treasury, but Xue Yang has a long knife in his hand and is using it to lever the left eyeball from the decapitated head resting in his lap.
"Hi," he says.
"Xue-gongzi," says Jin Guangyao, deciding formality is best, and leans forward into a very slight bow. "How are you bearing up under your heavy sentence?"
"Well," says Xue Yang. "I'm not bored. Yet." The eyeball comes free with a squelch.
Jin Guangyao refrains from questioning the purpose of this activity. Xue Yang is only doing it for attention. It's best to ignore his attempts to provoke a reaction and reserve questions for when he produces actual results.
"I'll probably get bored pretty soon," Xue Yang adds.
"Duly noted," says Jin Guangyao. "It won't be much longer, I assure you."
"Promises, promises." Xue Yang grins at him. "I want to know if their hearing gets better if they can't see."
"A blindfold wasn't sufficient?"
"But I have a knife," says Xue Yang.
"Ah, of course." Jin Guangyao is getting one of his headaches, the kind that comes on when he has slept too little and worked too hard. He doesn't let it affect his smile but it is beginning to feel as though Xue Yang has driven one of his innovative nails through Jin Guangyao's own left eye and into his brain.
Xue Yang laughs.
"Chifeng-zun'll be dead soon, right? Didn't you say you had a plan?"
"Leave it with me. I merely want to ensure you have everything you need in the meantime."
"More corpses is always good," says Xue Yang. "Keep them coming."
"I will." Jin Guangyao doesn't allow his expression to flicker, even when the head's mouth falls open and a dreadful moan escapes. Xue Yang laughs again. He pries the jaw further open and sticks the point of the knife past the yellowed teeth, cutting out the tongue like slicing a mussel from its shell.
"Are you going to stay for tea, Lianfang-zun?"
"Delinquent," says Jin Guangyao. "No, I have work to do upstairs. But I'll send you more corpses if you promise to continue improving the nails."
"Don't forget the candy too," says Xue Yang, and begins prying out the other eyeball.
Lan Xichen arrives at Koi Tower in the company of Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang, and his smile alone carries them all through the public greetings. Jin Guangshan is absent on some spurious excuse; a disguised blessing as it frames this visit as a private occasion between sworn brothers rather than a formal visit from two sect leaders. This must go well. Jin Guangyao must regain access to Nie Mingjue. He has never failed his father and he does not intend to begin now.
But he is scared. More scared than he anticipated. His limbs are trembling as he delivers his prepared greeting, and he must pass off his chattering teeth as the cold and instruct a servant to bring him a warmer outer robe. After that he clenches his jaw and will not permit himself to so much as twitch.
As soon as the formalities are concluded Nie Huaisang links arms with Jin Guangyao and leans against him, bemoaning the tediousness of the journey. Nie Mingjue stands at Lan Xichen's side, hand on Baxia's hilt and face unreadable.
Jin Guangyao straightens his back, testing the strength of limbs that have gone stiff with terror as he pats Nie Huaisang's shoulder and promises him entertainment now he's in Lanling, although please, Huaisang, not too much mischief.
He is strict with himself. He does not allow himself to look at Lan Xichen nearly as much as he would like. They merely smile at each other and Jin Guangyao forces his attention back to Nie Huaisang.
"Of course you can see the new aviary, but you've only just arrived. Why don't you take some refreshment first?"
"Perhaps we could all visit the aviary afterwards," says Lan Xichen. It's not subtle but then he doesn't seem as though he's trying to be anything other than guilelessly enthusiastic. Jin Guangyao can't possibly resist.
"If it would please you," he says, and allows his gaze to flicker over Nie Mingjue.
"It would." Lan Xichen looks expectantly at Nie Mingjue, who stares down Jin Guangyao. Jin Guangyao keeps his face carefully arranged in bland acceptance and refuses to hold his breath. Nevertheless some tension bleeds out of him when Nie Mingjue nods, and he can only hope Nie Huaisang doesn't notice.
Nie Mingjue stalks away without further comment. As if Jin Guangyao is not even worth looking at.
There's a small, destitute part of Jin Guangyao that wants to chase after his da-ge and beg for his forgiveness. A stupid part of him. He clamps down on the urge. He's spent too much time trying to get Nie Mingjue to care about him again. It's not going to happen.
With Lan Xichen he is not so strong. Though Nie Huaisang is still in his arms, his traitorous gaze makes its way back to his er-ge and he is lost in smiling eyes.
"I—" he says, and saves himself from saying something too revealing by caving to Nie Huaisang instead. "If you really want to see the birds now, I can spare a few minutes."
"I'm sure we'll see each other later, A-Yao," says Lan Xichen, because he is an outrageous flirt. Jin Guangyao ducks his head in agreement and makes a note to repay him in kind at the first opportunity. It is better to think of how he might tease Lan Xichen than to think of how much he has missed him and how fear is squeezing his heart like a vice.
He does not have time for it, but he leads Nie Huaisang to the aviary and leaves him there enraptured by a pair of scarlet minivets and a laughingthrush with a yellow throat. His usual duties take up the rest of his day, and he is both relieved and terrified when his father informs him he is permitted to dine privately with his sworn brothers. He is encouraged, in fact, to spend as much time with them as possible. His father is eager for good relations to be restored between them.
Jin Guangyao delegates with great reluctance several duties to a reasonably competent member of the household and seeks out Lan Xichen in his rooms.
Lan Xichen is meditating when Jin Guangyao eases open the door, and a slow moment passes before he opens his eyes and his smile widens.
"A-Yao."
There is nothing Jin Guangyao can say in answer. He stands with the closed door at his back and watches Lan Xichen rise to his feet and approach with all the measured grace of an ounce. He permits himself to feel the longing he has so carefully packed away these past weeks, and a sharp breath escapes him as Lan Xichen sets his hands to either side of his face and leans down for the kind of chaste kiss a man might give his spouse if they were parted for only an afternoon. When he leans back his long fingers remain cool against Jin Guangyao's cheeks and his eyes are heated.
Jin Guangyao reaches up to set a hand to the back of Lan Xichen's neck and pull him down again. He sets an equally chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.
"Did you miss me?" he asks. Lan Xichen's eyes are lowered now as he leans forward almost as if in supplication.
"Like air."
"Good." Jin Guangyao smiles when Lan Xichen breathes out a laugh.
"A-Yao, you can be incorrigible. Did you miss me too?"
Even in flirtation, Jin Guangyao is a little surprised Lan Xichen would feel the need to ask. A moment's consideration gives him the answer. Lan Xichen wants to know if Jin Guangyao has been hiding resentment behind the perfectly proper letters they have exchanged these past two months. He wants to know if he is forgiven for Qinghe.
Every time Jin Guangyao thinks he cannot love Lan Xichen any more, he discovers new chambers in his heart. Adoration pulses richly through his veins, heating him from the inside out.
"I miss you right now," he says, and in answer Lan Xichen kisses him again. And Jin Guangyao still misses him, because it will never be enough.
But Jin Guangyao is good at getting what he wants, and even better at enduring what he cannot have. He and Lan Xichen kiss the breath out of each other and when they are both thoroughly tormented he steps away and makes a show of straightening his robes.
"Huaisang and Da-ge will be here any minute."
Lan Xichen's cheeks are flushed. He leans into Jin Guangyao's touch when Jin Guangyao strokes fingertips over the unparalleled arch of his cheekbone.
There are voices in the distance, on the other side of the door. Jin Guangyao bumps his nose against Lan Xichen's, then steps away entirely and tucks his hands behind his back. When the Nie brothers enter, he offers a composed smile. Nie Mingjue looks between them with black suspicion.
"You haven't wasted any time," he says.
"Come and sit down," says Lan Xichen. There's still colour in his cheeks and though his gentle smile is in place he licks his lower lip all unconscious as he turns away. Jin Guangyao links his hands more tightly together behind his back.
"Are we visiting the aviary again after we've eaten?" asks Nie Huaisang.
"Not this late in the day." Nie Mingjue is still looking at Jin Guangyao. Jin Guangyao makes sure to sit on the same side of the table as Nie Huaisang and leave the other side to Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen. Servants have already brought tea, over which Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen have a playful exchange as to who should serve the others. Lan Xichen prevails because Jin Guangyao sees Nie Mingjue's growing irritation and withdraws.
Nie Huaisang chatters about birds, gesturing with empty hands. He does not look at his brother, and it's clear that they've had another spat sometime in the intervening hours after their arrival.
Jin Guangyao sips his tea and bites the inside of his cheek. Would it kill Nie Mingjue to pretend for Lan Xichen's sake? It defeats the point entirely when his civility is heavy with resentment. Jin Guangyao behaves as though he is perfectly delighted the four of them are together. He smiles at Lan Xichen but not too much, he nods in deference to Nie Mingjue's curt comments, and he asks Nie Huaisang questions about the keeping of minivets. It is really not that difficult.
Things never end well for him when he grows complacent like this. Satisfied with his own unimpeachable behaviour, he forgets himself for just a moment. Nie Huaisang holds forth on the particularly fine plumage of the fire-breasted flowerpecker.
"The what?" says Nie Mingjue.
"A non-native bird from the south," says Jin Guangyao. "A visiting dignitary gifted it along with a number of canaries and some pretty words about its auspicious markings because it has a yellow breast with a red mark. The attempt at flattery might have worked better if the bird weren't small enough to fit in a teacup."
"It's not always about size, San-ge." Nie Huaisang raises a suggestive eyebrow and Jin Guangyao laughs and that is when he forgets himself.
"Then it's yours."
"Really?"
"Of course. We won't miss a single bird and you'll clearly appreciate it more than anyone at Koi Tower."
"Did you ask me first if you can gift him more pointless fripperies?" says Nie Mingjue, and Jin Guangyao flinches.
"It's a very small thing, Da-ge. I didn't think you'd mind."
Lan Xichen is silent, perhaps wisely. Whatever side he takes will only exacerbate things.
Nie Huaisang on the other hand has no such compunction.
"Why complain, Da-ge? If you don't like it you can burn it in front of me."
"Don't be ridiculous," snaps Nie Mingjue. "It's obvious he's only offered you this gift to aggravate me and because he knows I'm not going to hurt some defenceless bird. You're not accepting it."
"I offered Huaisang the bird because I thought it would please him," says Jin Guangyao softly, though had his agenda tonight been anything other than to regain access to Nie Mingjue in order to play for him again he might happily have offered an entire flock of songbirds in an attempt to undermine him.
"I know you offered it to please him," says Nie Mingjue. He stares Jin Guangyao down, and Jin Guangyao lowers his eyes and looks at the table, doing his best to radiate tired innocence. "You're always trying to please others and you never think about whether it's good for someone to get what they want."
"Of course you're right, Da-ge," Jin Guangyao murmurs.
"That's right. Tell me what I want to hear."
"Da-ge, you can't say you'd be happier if A-Yao disagreed with you," objects Lan Xichen. His hands are still perfectly placed, but there's tension in his shoulders. "A bird is indeed a small thing, but if you feel the gift is inappropriate then there is no necessity to accept."
"You're almost as bad as him," says Nie Mingjue. "You'd give him anything he wanted without thinking about whether it's right or if you even want it yourself."
The silence that follows is sharp as broken glass. Lan Xichen says nothing and Jin Guangyao does not dare look at him. He keeps his eyes lowered and bows towards Nie Mingjue.
"I apologise for overstepping."
There is another lull, only marginally less fraught, as the servants return bearing further refreshments and the main dishes for the meal. The selection of each component was another headache for Jin Guangyao, an attempt to balance their disparate tastes. Nie Mingjue will eat anything and Lan Xichen will never complain, so it's difficult to tell whether he's succeeded. Nie Huaisang is too busy sulking to give much indication as to whether he's enjoying his thinly-sliced carp in a sauce modified to reduce much of the flavour and give the white flesh only the faintest hint of sharp sweetness on the tongue.
Though it is not always the case, the four of them adhere to the strictures of the Lan and don't speak at all while they eat. Jin Guangyao once exchanges a look with Nie Huaisang in which he offers a wordless apology and Nie Huaisang accepts with a wrinkle of his nose.
Jin Guangyao is considering whether it would help or hurt to offer to play with Lan Xichen for Nie Mingjue after the meal when there comes a knock at the door. Before any of them can rise or give permission for entry, the door swings open.
It is Jin Guangyao's father. He has disciples at his back and an avuncular smile on his face.
"A-Yao, how glad I am to see you in harmony with your sworn brothers again. Such a shame I must interrupt, but there is a matter I need you to attend to."
Transparent. Utterly transparent. And yet as always his father leaves just enough ambiguity that to accuse him outright would only result in a wounded denial that cast the accuser's reputation and integrity into doubt. Jin Guangyao might have inherited his mother's looks but he is truly his father's son.
He stands and he bows deeply.
"Instruct me, Father, and it will be done."
"There's some trouble in one of the villages further south, less than an hour by sword. I know how important it is to you that the Jin protect the people of Lanling from ghosts and monsters. The message said it was urgent, and I know I can rely on you to deal with the situation."
Jin Guangyao must rise early each morning to begin work, and he will not sleep tonight if he is sent to hunt down whatever creature or ghost is causing trouble in some miserable village. He smiles down at the floor.
"I'll speak with the messenger and leave immediately."
"A shame to interrupt your meal," says his father. "It's been quite some time since we last had the pleasure of your company, Chifeng-zun. And Nie-gongzi—and Zewu-jun. It's unlike you to leave so long between visits."
Nie Mingjue makes no acknowledgement at all. Lan Xichen inclines his head.
"Other duties have taken much of my time recently, but I'm glad indeed to return to Koi Tower. The Lanling Jin are most hospitable."
"It's still a shame for A-Yao to be taken away from his sworn brothers," says Jin Guangshan. "I know how highly he regards you and how much he values your time together, infrequent though it might be."
Jin Guangyao narrowly resists the urge to bury his face in his hands out of sheer mortification. He keeps smiling down at the floor as his father chuckles.
"In fact, why don't you accompany him? What could be better for benighted villagers than to send the Venerated Triad? Truly this is propitious."
The following silence is just a beat too long.
"We would be glad to accompany A-Yao," says Lan Xichen. His voice is serene. Jin Guangyao does not look over at him, mostly because he doesn't want to catch sight of Nie Mingjue. Perhaps he should be grateful Chifeng-zun is not on his feet roaring for the head of Xue Yang.
"We'll deal with it," says Nie Mingjue after an even longer pause.
"My deepest thanks to you all." And with that parting line, Jin Guangyao's father departs. His retinue follow in silence, their hands tucked modestly behind their backs, but Jin Guangyao knows they will speak of this with each other later. He will find out when the whispers reach him, whether the story is to be of their zongzhu's power over his fellow cultivators, or simply of the weakness of his remaining son, to be ordered to a backwater to deal with a minor scourge like some outer disciple.
There's a rustle of silk as Nie Huaisang gets to his feet.
"You're leaving now?"
"We won't be long." Jin Guangyao still doesn't dare look at Nie Mingjue. He smiles at Nie Huaisang instead and pats his hands. "Go back to your room and we'll see you in the morning."
"Well I wasn't asking to come with you," Nie Huaisang sighs. "Be careful, San-ge."
"Of course," says Jin Guangyao indulgently. Nie Huaisang can't be expected to understand what's happening here. His father is giving him busywork in a thick-faced attempt to create the opportunity for him to win back enough of Nie Mingjue's goodwill and trust that he'll be allowed to play for him again. Jin Guangyao doesn't need his father's machinations to help him with that, but his only choice is to go along with it.
Night has fallen and there's a chill in the air as they leave the palace to draw their swords. Jin Guangyao has memorised the contents of the message, but there is very little information to go on beyond the name and location of the village. Something has the villagers too scared to venture out after dark, but it could as easily be superstition as any real danger.
Only Lan Xichen seems pleased; but then, he would be. Setting aside the lifting of his brother's sorrows, his heart's desire is for the three of them to recapture the companionship they shared only once, the first time they were all together. Jin Guangyao remembers every moment of that night. He had entirely convinced himself that his days with Lan Xichen had been the kind of paradisiacal interlude he would never be fortunate enough to experience again. He had found something like satisfaction in the service of Nie Mingjue, a determination to rise high in the Nie sect until his father heard of his deeds and had no choice but to acknowledge him.
Then Lan Xichen in his infinite and well-meaning generosity had destroyed it all.
Jin Guangyao doesn't blame Lan Xichen. He doesn't even blame Nie Mingjue. But he does remember that night, smiling and speaking with feigned gratitude in the company of two sect leaders. Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue both pleased with how kind they were being, even as he ground his teeth behind his smile and saw all his work with the Nie slipping away through his fingers. He will always be grateful to Lan Xichen, and he will always wish Nie Mingjue had not walked in at that moment.
The next day had seen Meng Yao on the road to Langya, to a father who would never deign to read any letter of recommendation, who would station him on the front lines under a brutish and jealous incompetent. He'd had no choice. He never has any choice. He'd had to do it, and anyway, he'd deserved it, they'd all deserved it.
His nails are digging into his palms. He uncurls his fingers and ignores the throbbing pain.
The Venerated Triad is a lie. People speak of them as though they fought the war together, the three of them, but it was one evening, just the one, and it began with betrayal no matter how well-meaning it was. Jin Guangyao fought his war alone.
He smiles at Nie Mingjue, and he knows the expression is sickly and insincere even before he sees Nie Mingjue's lip curl in disgust. Lan Xichen makes a worried sound.
"A-Yao, are you well?"
"I'm well, Er-ge. Shall we depart?"
"If Jin Guangshan thinks he can distract me from Xue Yang then he's even more stupid than I thought," says Nie Mingjue, but he's already drawn Baxia to stroke a loving thumb over the hilt before he steps onto the blade. Jin Guangyao isn't reckless enough to whisper anything to Lan Xichen in Nie Mingjue's presence, but he does give Lan Xichen a questioning look that is answered with a beaming smile.
So, for all Lan Xichen has said that Jin Guangyao's playing is superb, it is true that nothing can compare to the skills of a Jade of Lan. When Jin Guangyao played for Nie Mingjue with only the best of intentions, Nie Mingjue burnt his brother's treasured possessions and lost enough control to show just how little he has always thought of Jin Guangyao. Two months under Lan Xichen's ministrations and he is able to hold his tongue in Jin Guangshan's presence and refrain from interrogating Jin Guangyao regarding Xue Yang.
It won't last.
Jin Guangyao matches Lan Xichen's smile and draws Hensheng.
He has an exquisite sense of balance, but there is nothing to be done for the fact that he is nowhere near the equal of either of his sworn brothers when it comes to raw power. They hold back to allow him to keep pace, though he cannot imagine how anyone could go faster with their eyes narrowed against the whipping wind. Below the land is black as the void, broken up only occasionally by the twinkling of scattered villages as the great light of Lanling City burns at their backs.
By the time they alight on the outskirts of the wholly unremarkable village he is chilled to the bone and his hair is in a hopeless snarl. Lan Xichen's hair falls like a sheet of silk spun for the gods, and Nie Mingjue only has to run his fingers through the ends of his own hair to set it to rights again.
Jin Guangyao is hardly going to draw forth a comb, so he smiles at them both.
"Shall we proceed?"
"A-Yao," says Lan Xichen, glancing at Nie Mingjue, not quite asking permission. He produces a plain comb from his sleeve, and before Jin Guangyao can demur the offer he reaches out to set the comb to Jin Guangyao's hair himself.
A sharp breath escapes through Jin Guangyao's nose. He drops his head and looks at the black grass at his feet, barely illuminated by the lanterns hanging at the outskirts of the village. There is no sound but the rustling of the trees.
"You must teach me your technique," he says as the comb draws down from where his hair flows over his back from beneath his hat, all the way to the wind-roughened ends. "If you are willing."
"Of course," says Lan Xichen. Either he is using cultivation now or the comb is imbued with special properties, because with only a few strokes the snarls in Jin Guangyao's hair are undone. The comb disappears back into his sleeve and Lan Xichen looks at Nie Mingjue again. Jin Guangyao isn't sure what he expects, but foolish instinct makes him draw closer to Lan Xichen even though that's a course of action highly likely to provoke.
"Are you cold?" asks Nie Mingjue, and Jin Guangyao blinks at him.
"No. No, Da-ge, I'm not cold." He links his hands behind his back and surreptitiously rubs his frozen fingers together, worrying at his thumb.
"Then lead the way." Nie Mingjue gestures towards the lanterns.
Jin Guangyao looks up and down the darkened street and selects the house with the neatest aspect and a nearby pen containing a fine pair of sleeping white goats. His guess is correct and the woman who answers is the wife of a person of some importance in this backwater. When the man himself is summoned from his bed he abases himself before the Venerated Triad and confirms there is something lurking beyond the reaches of the village.
It is Lan Xichen who asks questions while the couple serve hastily-brewed tea. Nie Mingjue is silent after giving thanks for such hospitality, and Jin Guangyao listens intently as Lan Xichen sets their hosts at ease. Clearly they did not expect such grand personages when a half-competent cultivator could dispatch whatever creature is haunting the area, but Lan Xichen is so gentle, so genuine, that it isn't long before he has extracted a garrulous recounting of their niece's friend's cousin who went out into the woods last night and has not yet returned. There were deep furrows in the earth beside the stables belonging to the only man in the village with coin to his name, and every horse was foam-flecked and white-eyed with terror. A whole day later and still they tremble and cannot be handled.
"Did Feng-guniang ever visit the stable?" asks Jin Guangyao in delicate supplement to Lan Xichen's questioning.
"Never, Lianfang-zun, never. She's never had much interest in horses or animals of any kind. Why, once our Xiao-Yan tried to gift her a kitten from one of the stable cats and she wouldn't take it. Said the claws would spoil her clothes."
There's little more to be learnt, so they thank the couple and apologise again for disturbing them even though the pair are clearly delighted they'll be able to spend the rest of their lives telling their neighbours they served tea to three of the heroes of Sunshot.
Outside again, they walk further into the village and out the other side, past the stables to where the woods encroach on the border. The trees are still whispering but in an ordinary kind of way. Jin Guangyao will always be more comfortable in the city but he's spent enough time travelling and fighting on hard-won fronts to know the normal sounds of the countryside.
"It's just a monster," he says.
"I think you're right." Lan Xichen peers into the dark beneath the trees.
"It doesn't matter if you're wrong," says Nie Mingjue, and draws Baxia.
"Oh, of course," murmurs Jin Guangyao, not daring to speak loudly enough for Nie Mingjue to hear. This will not take long. It's some lonely wolf hungered away to monstrosity, or a bear or even a snake. Some minor irritation that has slipped through the bounds of the village and snatched away an innocent girl.
"Take care," says Lan Xichen. "She might yet live."
"Let us hope so," says Jin Guangyao. The girl is dead. He fully expects to have to contend with her ghost if she felt particularly strongly as she died; which, considering the circumstances, is extremely likely.
A thin sound drifts out from between the trees. Jin Guangyao draws Hensheng and Lan Xichen retrieves Liebing. He sets the xiao to his lips and plays an answering note that quiets the breeze and stills the leaves.
And a monster steps forth.
First there is a white gleam and the ripple of something darker than the shadows. Then there is the yellow grin of teeth, the exposed planes of a long skull with great hanks of hair hanging down either side like river weeds.
It is a horse. The rotted remains of a bridle cling to the skull and snarled mane, and one eye rolls red with blood while the other is an empty pit. The neck is a string of dull vertebrae and duller hair and the body is bloated with decay, the flesh grey and clinging in thick rotting strips to long bones that peek out with each shambling movement. The breeze begins again, carrying forth the stench of carrion.
The creature takes a step towards them. The jawbone clacks.
Lan Xichen continues to play and the creature stands at the edge of the trees swaying and tossing its foetid head. Jin Guangyao draws forth a guqin string and loops it around the once-proud neck like a lasso, drawing it closer, tight about the bloated flesh and exposed bone. The string cuts in like a blade through ripe fruit. Nie Mingjue raises Baxia.
It's simple enough. It is only a horse, though as the headless corpse collapses one powerful hoof strikes out and fells a nearby sapling. Jin Guangyao takes a cloth from his sleeve and cleans the guqin string before coiling it up and secreting it away again. It's still cold and his fingers are going numb, a thought that is at the forefront of his mind rather than the horse.
Lan Xichen kneels beside the bones and tattered flesh, setting one tentative fingertip to the half-disintegrated browband where a sun emblem is cut into the leather.
"The Wen," says Nie Mingjue.
"Wen Ruohan did always insist on the value of a strong cavalry." Jin Guangyao crouches beside Lan Xichen and takes Lan Xichen's hand, drawing it away from the sun emblem. He has the entirely irrational fear that it might burn those long white fingers, and he cannot bear it.
Lan Xichen rubs his fingertips together as though he has touched something filthy.
"A warhorse in search of a stable," he says. "I think we must leave the villagers with some assistance and advise them to inter the poor beast within the bounds of the pasture to lay it entirely to rest."
"I'll take care of it, Er-ge," says Jin Guangyao as they rise to their feet again.
"What of the girl?" says Nie Mingjue.
"Gone, surely." Jin Guangyao arranges his face to convey sorrow. "A warhorse in search of a rider, also. She must not have suited." A glance at Lan Xichen. "We must search, though, to be sure."
They find her quickly. She lies in a small open space between the trees, head still resting gently against the rock that dashed out her brains. Her skirts are tangled and her mouth hangs open and lends her silent scream a faintly vacuous cast. Jin Guangyao is relieved at the sight of her; at this rate he might be able to snatch an hour's sleep before the morning.
There is as much sorrow in Lan Xichen's face as if this is the first dead girl he's ever seen. He kneels beside her in the forest mulch and hums an almost-inaudible tune before drawing shut the staring eyes. The long loose hair is matted with blood and brain.
"Er-ge—" Jin Guangyao keeps his voice soft. "We must inform her family."
"If they were sensible enough not to go charging into the woods looking for her then they won't thank us for turning up at their door like a cat with a dead sparrow," says Nie Mingjue.
"Then A-Yao is right and we should fetch them."
Nie Mingjue looks to Jin Guangyao, then looks away again.
"I'll go," says Jin Guangyao. So Nie Mingjue does still recognise his worth in some areas, or at least is aware of his own shortcomings. The knot of resentment in his heart ties itself yet tighter. He touches Lan Xichen's arm in defiance of his own fear, and leaves them there in the dark.
There is a difference between being good at something and enjoying it. Jin Guangyao does not enjoy witnessing the weeping of the bereaved parents and the sobbing of the girl's two sisters as he delivers the news. He cares about the injustice visited on commoners, but he does not care particularly for individual grievances other than his own or those within his orbit of affection. He soothes the parents, comforts the girls, and privately broods over the needlessness of this little scene. A manned watchtower would have prevented this.
It is so well-practised as to be ritual. Jin Guangyao spent long hours during his early months with the Nie cleaning battlefields and assisting displaced commoners. With gentle efficiency he contrives to send a message to the funeral home and another back to Koi Tower, requesting that a few of the junior cultivators be sent to inter the remains of the monstrous horse.
It is the husband who sets out into the woods with another cousin roused from his bed, and when they reach the clearing they find the girl neatly arranged with all the fear smoothed from her features. The father keeps his composure even as he kneels beside her and sets fingers to her bloody hair, whispering her name again and again. Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue offer all the correct courtesies and then withdraw to Jin Guangyao's side.
"It is all arranged," says Jin Guangyao.
"Thank you, A-Yao." There are shadows under Lan Xichen's eyes. He takes everything to heart, and Jin Guangyao hates to see it. He hates it even more when Lan Xichen notices that he hates it and with visible effort dons a small smile.
"Don't take it to heart, Xichen," says Nie Mingjue.
"Don't pretend your heart is untouched, Da-ge."
"We've done all we can for her." Nie Mingjue frowns over at the girl and her sorrowing father and cousin.
"That is cold comfort I fear," says Lan Xichen, and returns to the cousin to speak with him in a low voice. Whatever he says is the right thing to say, because the cousin bows low in thanks and there is true gratitude in his face by the dim light of the lamp.
It is the cousin who carries the girl to the funeral home, little more than a shack in such a small village, to lay her to rest. Jin Guangyao listens to several stories about her, from her fussiness about her appearance to her love for water chestnuts and her gift for impersonating others that often had the entire family in stitches.
To his surprise, it is Nie Mingjue who answers most of the cousin's stories. He shares tales of his parents, his father's exacting standards in matters of personal dress and his mother's ability to mimic the sound of almost any bird. He praises the dead girl's character and commends her family.
Suddenly Jin Guangyao cannot stand to hear any more. He exits the shack before the incense is lit, and expels the musty smell of old wood from his nose by drawing deep breaths of the cold air outside. Above the moon gives little light.
"A-Yao." Lan Xichen has followed him outside. Warm hands take his own, enclosing his frozen fingers. "You're cold."
"Not very." Jin Guangyao smiles up at him.
"Then something troubles you," says Lan Xichen, accepting the lie but tightening his fingers around Jin Guangyao's and warming them with his own.
"We're all troubled by the death of an innocent girl. And worse, to know it is preventable."
"A-Yao, you are doing all you can. Even if the watchtowers were agreed today they cannot be built in an afternoon. Remember not only Feng-guniang but that you have helped these people tonight: that warhorse will claim no more riders."
"Is that how you would feel in my place?" asks Jin Guangyao, and Lan Xichen sighs acknowledgement. But the goal here is not to make Lan Xichen feel worse than he already does. The goal is merely for this to be over as soon as possible so he has the chance to snatch some sleep before he must rise to begin the day's preparations.
Lan Xichen, it seems, is not thinking of sleep. There are furrows in his perfect brow.
"I am glad the three of us are working together even if it was somewhat clumsily arranged. Please don't be so hard on yourself. These things take time."
"I'm tired," says Jin Guangyao, setting the truth to work as he so often must. "That's all. I've tried to be civil. I've tried to be his brother. Er-ge, I really have tried, but he isn't interested. Half the time he won't look at me, and I'm scared to say anything because I don't know what will make him angry. Even when things feel almost normal I can't forget what he said, what he really thinks of me."
"That is not what he really thinks of you. Da-ge thinks highly of you and always has. He fears you might go down the wrong path and he expresses that fear poorly because he is so troubled by the sabre spirit. These past few weeks have not been easy for him, especially because he and Huaisang are still fighting. Please be patient, don't provoke him, and you'll see the difference in how he treats you."
Jin Guangyao wants to be angry; he should be angry. Lan Xichen knows perfectly well how much time and effort he puts into trying not to provoke Nie Mingjue. But he can see the exhaustion in Lan Xichen's face, and his anger refuses to take root. He draws a shuddering breath.
"I can't tell what will provoke him." He had intended to enact this scene at a more convenient time, but now will do. He wants to cry and he can allow himself to have what he wants. Tears run down his face.
"A-Yao, please." Lan Xichen releases his hands and cups his face instead, thumbs brushing away the tears and succeeding only in smearing them across his cheeks.
"I don't want to provoke him. I know he spoke in anger but it didn't come from nowhere. He wouldn't say it in anger if he didn't think it at peace."
Lan Xichen is silent. And Jin Guangyao does feel guilty, of course he does, but there are more important things than guilt or love. There is what he is owed.
He lets out a sob and allows Lan Xichen to take him in his arms for a blissful moment before he struggles free. Lan Xichen lets him go, and he tips up his tear-stained face and blinks wet lashes. Lan Xichen's expression is perfect agony.
"A-Yao."
"Perhaps he didn't mean it," whispers Jin Guangyao. "Perhaps he doesn't believe it and he said it only to hurt me. But it feels the same. It feels the same as when everyone else passes judgement on me because of my background. My mother couldn't change her fate and nor can I. No matter what I do, in the end even to Da-ge I'm only the son of a prostitute."
He will never know what Lan Xichen has to say in response to that.
"How dare you." It is Nie Mingjue, always light-footed despite his size, black brows lowered and red gleaming in his eyes. "How dare you!"
Always, always Jin Guangyao miscalculates when it comes to his da-ge. Always Nie Mingjue happens upon his most incriminating moments and he's never in his life bothered to wait for explanations. Jin Guangyao sees his own death in those crimson eyes. He stumbles back and quick as moonlight Lan Xichen stands before him, drawing Shuoyue in a silvery arc.
This is an old dance, but Lan Xichen changes the steps. He does not plead with Nie Mingjue. Perhaps he finally sees what Jin Guangyao sees: Nie Mingjue's honest desire to kill him. He addresses Jin Guangyao without looking back at him.
"Run!"
Jin Guangyao runs.
This is how he dies. He knows it. Mortal terror drives the blood through his veins so it roars in his ears and his breath tears at his chest. He survived Nie Mingjue in Langya, in Qishan, in Lanling. The fourth time is the curse. He will die here in this nameless village and he will be forgotten. His mother will be forgotten. His father will never be proud of him.
But no. There is screaming at his back, the berserker roar of a man who is as much sabre as human these days, but there is no bite of the blade into Jin Guangyao's neck, no strike to cleave his skull. He darts to the side, and turns his head so he can catch a glimpse of his pursuer through foliage and dim starlight.
Nie Mingjue is attacking the trees.
Jin Guangyao stops running. He circles through the dark as Nie Mingjue twists and turns as he hacks at trucks and low-hanging branches. Lan Xichen approaches from his other side, Shuoyue still drawn, face taut with anguish.
"Da-ge!" He parries a particularly violent blow. Nie Mingjue screams again and Baxia swings through the frigid air.
Jin Guangyao knows Lan Xichen will parry again. He knows Lan Xichen is one of the greatest living cultivators and is more than a match for another great cultivator whose precision and technique is crumbling under a qi deviation. But he cries out anyway, reaching uselessly as though he could somehow close the distance between them in an instant and snatch Baxia out of the air.
Lan Xichen does parry Baxia. But Nie Mingjue is already turning, towards the sound of Jin Guangyao's voice. He is advancing.
"Da-ge," says Jin Guangyao. He stumbles back. Nie Mingjue will not stop looking at him. He cannot stand the way Nie Mingjue is looking at him. "Please."
And Nie Mingjue stops.
It's nothing to do with Jin Guangyao's plea. It's because Lan Xichen has sheathed Shuoyue and is playing Liebing. The music is achingly sorrowful and the tune is not one Jin Guangyao recognises, but Nie Mingjue's head turns. The red light in his eyes fades and black blood rolls from his mouth to cover his chin. He sinks to the ground with Baxia's hilt in both hands, the blade shaking in his grasp.