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hulijingemperor2 · 2 years ago

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In the torture chamber 📍

Yao: *gags Zixun, then pulled him by his collar*

Zixun: mmfff!!! Mmfff!

Yao: shut up.

Xue yang: Jiggy, we could have carried this idiot for you.

You didn't need to do all these work.

Yao: xue yang. I was a Wen. And a master of torture.

Su she: have some respect for his qualifications, yangyang.

Xue yang: I got ya, Jiggy.

Mo xuanyu: where are your fox spirits, Jiggy?!

Yao: they're nearby.

Zixun: *terrified*

Yao: Don't worry, darling.

My fox spirits won't do anything to you.

*tightens grip* if I don't ask them to.

Xue yang: dark, savage Jiggy is sexy.

Mo xuanyu: i totally agree.

Su she: is he wearing high heeled boots?

Yao: they're a new pair, Shanshan.

Su she: oh my.

Mo xuanyu: how flawless.

Xue yang: dang, does calves.

Yao: when you constantly wear heals, your calves will be firm.

Team dimple: *instant nosebleed*

Mo xuanyu: give us something to do.

Yao: gladly. *grabs Zixun's hair, then threw him on the floor* chain him up. On that wall.

Minshan, I taught you how to use guqin strings, right? Tie it at his throat, right under the chin.

Su she: yes Huangdi. Will do. *bow*

Yao: xue yang, xuanyu. Chain him.

*sits and crosses his legs*

Mo xuanyu: you dare challenge our Yao gege!

Xue yang: I killed your goons.

Su she: *places the guqin string at Zixun's neck* stop flinching!

Yao: my hostage. That isn't so smart of you. If you don't stay still then the guqin string might pierce through your skin.

Stay still.

Xue yang: Jiggy literally called you a fidgety idiot in the most polite way.

Yao: yang. You read me. *smile*

Xue yang: obvi.

He's all chained up, boss.

Yao: *pulls out candy*

Xue yang: ah, the best reward! *snatches it*

Mo xuanyu: *kneels at A-Yao's side, and rests his head on his lap*

Yao: *strokes through his hair*

Su she: *standing next to A-Yao*

Xiying: here's your whip, Huangdi.

Yao: thank you.

Mo xuanyu: Yao gege has a whip? That's a dream come true.

Xue yang: oh hell yea, I want to be whipped by Jiggy.

Su she: that would be so marvelous. And super attractive.

Xue yang: I think Jiggy has like 50 types of whips.

But this one is his favourite one.

Su she: yea. That's the one he had back in the Wen sect.

Mo xuanyu: should we do something displeasing so that he can whip us.

Yao: *glares at them*

Team d: *trembling* we'll behave Jiggy.

Xue yang: I know, I know. We're supposed to look tough.

Su she: this is no time for simping. Forgive us, huangdi.

Mo xuanyu: sorry Yao gege.

But will you whip us?

Yao: if you continue simping in front of the hostage.

Xue yang: then we'll simp away, Jiggy.

Yao: *raises brow*

Xue yang: fine. We'll simp next time. Just don't give me that stern stare. It's too attractive and stern.

Yao: excellent.

*amused*

Yao: Zixun. I will be nice to you, during the interrogation. But if you dare insult me, then I'll be forced to act harsh.

Su she: you don't want to upset our master.

Yao: correct. Now watch your words.

Yao: xue yang.

Xue yang: I'm on my knees, Jiggy!!!

Yao: *confused* what is wrong with you?

Mo xuanyu: we're simps, Yao gege.

Yao: ungag him, Chengmei.

Xue yang: hehehe, right. I knew that. Jiggy!

Yao: are you henchmen or a band of simps.

Xue yang: both, Jiggy.

Yao: fair enough.

Mo xuanyu: *kisses A-Yao's hand* I'm married to a mafia boss! Yay.

And he's an emperor too. Double yay!

Xue yang: *ungags him*

Yao: hello hostage.

Zixun: it's Zixun, you bastard!

Yao: oh. I was just calling you by your affiliation.

Like for example, there's lianfang zun, Zewu Jun, Misty spell Master. Huangdi. Sandu Shangshou. Like that.

Zixun: what kind of affiliation is hostage then?! Ouch!!

Yao: careful.

If you shout or move too much, the guqin string will graze you.

That's why I had my henchman put it right under the chin, so that you can't shout.

Mo xuanyu: *grinning* shouting agrivates boss's migraine.

Su she: you don't want that, right?

Xue yang: he'll have you stabbed our lingchied.

Yao: then why should we even shout? Non of us are deaf here. Maybe you are.

I don't know.

Su she: Huangdi, I think he is. Because we warned him, to not mess with you.

Yao: hmm.

Now tell me. *continuing to stroke through mxy's hair* you wish to break out of jail.

And on top of that, your dear aunt is planning to invade my empire just to get you back.

That isn't cool.

Zixun: how did you find out?

Yao: dude. I'm the emperor. Nothing can be hidden from me.

Zixun: soon aunt Jin will send her troops here. And annihilate you and your empire. Then free me from this prison!!

Xue yang: dirty Zixun, are you home sick?! What's your problem!

You know you have been charged for treason and planning a coup.

Zixun: don't tell me what I did, you unhinged street child. Go dumpster diving.

Yao: *whips him*

Zixun: *screams*

Yao: not another word against my A-yang!!! I'll stab you!

Xue yang: *infuriated*

Do it! Just do it!!! *traumatized*

Yao: *slit his arm with hensheng*

Anything else to say?!

Zixun: *uncontrollable breathing*

Yao: *hands Minshan his hensheng* fine then.

Su she: *cleans the blade with a cloth*

(Minshan is the only one who can handle A-Yao's weapon, because of his trust and sms's loyalty)

Zixun: I will end you.

Yao: how would you do that when you're a hostage.

*takes a seat*

Su she: *hands him hensheng*

Yao: good job.

Yao: A-yang. Are you ok? *pats head*

Xue yang: this ass triggered my dark childhood.

Yao: I stabbed him for you. He's taken good care of.

Xue yang: can I pull of his fingernails, Jiggy?

Yao: whatever eases your pain. Do it.

Xue yang: hehehehehehe.

Yao: and put some salt on his wounds too.

Xue yang: got it.

~~~

Jinlintai 📍

Madam Jin: *talking to one of her personal general, Qingxu.*

Madam Jin: are you guys ready.

Qingxu: yes empress dowager!

Well go through a secret route and disarm the hulijing Huangdi's place.

Madam Jin: excellent.

Um...have you gotten any news about the other soldiers?

Qingxu: I heard that they would found with their eyes gorged out. Then someone said that it looked like they went insane.

Madam Jin: pesky hulijings!

Qingxu: taihou, why do you need Zixun back so desperately. So you see that our troops are being mauled.

Madam Jin: Zixun is only an excuse to take over the empire.

And he's the only guy who helps guangshan with his hemorrhoids.

Qingxu: ew, taihou.

Madam Jin: anyways. After our successful plot. I'll be the empress of peacock spirits again, while I enslave those fox spirits.

Qingxu: ahh. What about Xuan huangdi.

Madam Jin: Zixuan doesn't know much about politics.

(Zixuan actually do, but no one knows 😏)

Madam Jin: now leave! Prepare to attack that bastard's empire.

Thereafter a strong wind began to blow, and it knocked down Madam Jin. Then when she tried to get up, something~ or someone slapped her.

Madam Jin: *frantic* w...who...? Who slapped me?!!

Who slapped me?!

Qingxu: empress dowager, there's no one here to slap you.

Madam Jin: but I just felt it!

*she got slapped again, but harder*

Madam Jin: what kind of joke this is?!!! You useless henchmen! Do something?!

Qingxu: you want us to stab the air?

Madam Jin: don't be rude to me! And do as I say.

*gets slapped*

Afterwards, the forced tied her up with a a curtain. And then a silhouette of s woman, with nine tails appeared on the walls.

Madam Jin's henchmen: *running frantically* Jinlintai is haunted!!!

Madam Jin: you're supposed to protect me from that!

We....we can't possibly! What if we get killed by whatever that is!

Is that a fox spirit?!!

The nine tailed fox goddess!

Madam Jin: don't call that a goddess. That's just a mere fox spirit! Jin guangyao is playing a trick on us!

Within that moment, a furious Meng Shi walked in with a few fox spirits, which left Madam Jin stunned.

Madam Jin: youuuu!!!

Meng Shi: yes. Me.

Madam Jin: how dare you come come here!

Meng Shi: how dare you abuse my son.

Madam Jin: *grumbles* he isn't my child.

Meng Shi: ohh, so you like abusing other people's children? I really like your morals.

Does the dowager empress of peacock spirits give out autographs?

Madam Jin: keep that sarcasm to yourself.

Meng Shi: sharing is caring.

Madam Jin: then I'm not interested.

Meng Shi: fine. Fine then.

How would you feel if I abused your son!

Madam Jin: don't touch him.

Meng Shi: then don't touch mine.

Fortunately for you, I'm not that low.

Madam Jin: and I haven't abused Jin guangyao.

Meng Shi: my son, Yao Huangdi had cried to me every night. Telling me about your torture and abuse.

And I was waiting for the right opportunity to knock you out for hurting him.

Madam Jin: *rolls eyes*

Ah, now you wish to challenge me. Well, the floor is open for attempts.

But I must say, you still look. Seductive.

Meng Shi: and you still look, young.

Madam Jin: do you still want my husband?!

Meng Shi: ew. What do you want me to do with him?!

And the guy has hemorrhoids.

Besides, I'm happy being the empress dowager and goddess of Hulijings without some womanizer cultivator.

Madam Jin: Qingxu, start the invasion!!

Meng Shi: stop!

Qingxu and others: *on their knees, pleading*

Hulijing taihou!

Hulijing taihou, forgive us! Please don't kill us!

We're sorry!

Meng shi: I would never spare criminals like you. You have tried to overthrow your Yao huangdi on many occasions. In my opinion, that is treasonous.

Madam Jin: Yao isn't their Huangdi! You fools better not listen to her!

Meng Shi: then why are they in Jinlintai and in the Jin Sect. My Yao'er was their sect leader.

Madam Jin: WAS!

Meng Shi: because he wishes to focus on being huangdi.

And they should respect their former sect leader.

Oh yes, I forgot to remind you that he partially owns Jinlintai. Your husband is renting it from him.

Meng Shi: *to her Fox spirits* I don't want such criminals running around.

Imprison them.

Yes taihou.

Madam Jin: *infuriated*

Meng Shi: don't worry. I won't imprison you.

Madam Jin: are you scared? Hahahaha.

Meng Shi: I'm just not petty.

I have come here to solve the problem by imprisoning your conspiring limbs. Without them, you have no power.

Madam Jin: I could always ask my peacock spirits to end your empire.

Meng Shi: and Zixuan is close to A-Yao.

I don't think that the peacock spirit Huangdi will let that happen.

Madam Jin: *cursing her*

Meng Shi: *sighs*

*then erases her memory*

Madam Jin: ouch. Meng Shi what are you doing here, and why am I tied up.

Meng Shi: I don't know. Maybe it's some guangshan kink. I got to go. *disappears*

Madam Jin: that's strange.

~~~

Jing Manor 📍.

Xiying: Huangdi. Zixun's caravan is ready, to take him to Jinlintai.

Yao: mn. And make sure to guard the caravan, incase he tries to escape.

Xiying: will do.

Yao: Zixun shall be sentenced to house arrest.

Yi (A-Yao's eunuch): Huangdi orders Zixun to be under house arrest!

If he steps foot out of his room he'll get a death sentence.

Yao: you can just chain him. I won't go anywhere.

Feng (one of the jiangjuns): certainly.

Zixun: what?! House arrest!

Yao: yes.

Su she: Huangdi, my sect members will also guard Jinlintai.

Yao: thank you.

Xue yang: byeeee Zixun. We'll miss you.

Mo xuanyu: you should rot.

Xue yang: the dude has some guts to mess with Jiggy.

Mo xuanyu: Yao gege, what about the goons who were going to invade your empire.

Yao: I sense that A-niang took care of them.

Su she: taihou?!

Mo xuanyu: awww really!

Xue yang: wow! I heard that she badass just like you.

Yao: mhm.

Mo xuanyu: but how are you so sure?

Yao: my heart is connected to A-niang's. So I would get an instinct.

Mo xuanyu: that's really cute.

Su she: the Mengs are always glorious.

Huangdi, taihou and Song'er.

Mo xuanyu: the regal three!

Xue yang: exactly.

More like the three supermodels.

#the huli jing emperor #foxyao #dimpledlianfang #jin guangyao #jin zixuan #meng yao #part 2 #su she #the untamed #hulijing emperor 2

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curiosity-killed · 4 years ago

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For the " wish you'd write a fic" thing - JC takes in the Wens post Pheonix mountain, JGS realises that honey works better than vinnegar and tries to bribe wwx and MY has an ulterior motive to befriend WWX but it turns genuine and ends w WWX teaching JYL and JGY demonic cultivation so they can make a " weak/ no golden core" squad

LWJ is still caught in pine land, but the Jiang Sibs won't let him near wwx bcs they don't want to hurt him. JGY sees it and finds it entertaining

send me a summary for a fic you wish i’d write and i’ll write a tidbit

After the massacre of Lotus Pier, Wen Chao’s singular bloody victory, there were no elders left in the Yunmeng Jiang clan. It was obvious throughout the war, even as all sects moved with expediency over courtesy. Jiang Wanyin was alone at the head of his scorched sect with a head disciple grown unruly and overpowerful and a sister who had a charming smile but no true power except for her future marriage. And yet—

An old woman walks along the goldenwood boardwalk with a junior disciple supporting her right side.

Drawing his gaze back, Jin Guangyao finds Jiang Yanli smiling softly at him. She is a sweet woman, mild and considerate, and he hasn’t yet decided if she really missed all her mother’s legendary venom and steel or if it’s only disguised under the soft wrappings of silk and lotus petals.

“Please forgive my discourtesy,” he says. “There seems to be an abundance of new faces in Yunmeng Jiang.”

He couches it in polite bemusement, as if he doubts his own recollection. He doesn’t, of course. Su Minshan visited to pay his respects some months ago and reported strange crowds gathering under the nine-petaled lotus, servants sinking unwieldy bundles into the lake late at night. Jin Guangyao’s own memory is impeccable. If he has heard a song once, he will not miss a single note; if he has seen a face, he will not confuse it for another.

Wen Qing stood knee-deep in the edge of the lake when they arrived, her hair pulled up from her neck like a married woman.

“Refugees from the war,” Jiang Yanli explains with soft, sad eyes, “fleeing Wen Ruohan’s violence. So many have been in search of new homes, and after the war...”

She pauses, lips pressing together as her gaze dips to the side. It likely isn’t an act: Jin Guangyao has seen Jiang Yanli overcome with emotion more than once, tears pearling like drops of dew to break down her pale cheeks. Now, she draws in a steadying breath and assumes a pleasant look.

“We have room, you understand,” she says.

Perhaps this is all her pet project, a distraction from her failed betrothal. Jin Guangyao knows better than to brush women aside as too frivolous or petty for schemes and plots, but—contrary to all his hard-learned lessons, he can’t help thinking that Jiang Yanli is, simply, kind. She has so little power or say in her life, but she has always treated him pleasantly and always seems ready to open her heart to some unfortunate soul. It is, despite his efforts, difficult to truly believe that she might be engineering some strategy behind the guise of tearful smiles.

“Of course,” Jin Guangyao soothes. “Yunmeng Jiang’s hospitality is so generous, they must rejoice at the opportunity to join. It’s only that my father worries, you see. You must know how dearly he held your parents’ friendship, and seeing so many outsiders drawing close, he cannot help but worry that they are entering by exploiting a weak spot.”

Jin Guangshan’s worry might be more noble if it weren’t over the fear of losing his own place of influence with the unstable sect’s young leader, but then Jin Guangyao knows better than to expect nobility from gentry.

Drawing a breath, Jin Guangyao lowers his gaze to the tea sitting before him. When he looks back to Jiang Yanli, it’s with open worry in his gaze. The servants who sit behind her as chaperones share a look he can’t decipher in the moment, but he brushes it aside.

“After Wei Wuxian’s actions after the war,” he says as gently as a doctor placing needles, “Father fears that Jiang Wanyin may be the target of ambitious schemes.”

Jiang Yanli’s eyes widen just-so, and Jin Guangyao permits himself the smallest fraction of success. He isn’t really here to uproot the whole tree—only to nurture the seeds already planted by the war, by Wei Wuxian’s untamed recklessness during and after, by the very nature of being young and having centuries of legacy thrust into their safekeeping. It isn’t so hard to draw someone in, after all, if you make yours the only safe shelter from the storms of the world.

Sitting back slightly, Jiang Yanli dips her head briefly, and Jin Guangyao waits to see how he should arrange his next steps. Too heavy-handed and the fine struts of this work will shatter under the weight of the architect, but too light and it will slip away on the next tide. Jiang Yanli looks up, and it isn’t tears in her eyes but amusement, a secret joke in the faint curl of her lips.

“I thank you for your concern, Lianfang-zun,” she says, “but I assure you, Yunmeng Jiang is never stronger than when we are together.”

#fic summary ask game #mdzs #cql #jin guangyao #jiang yanli #my writing #this was hard LMAO #hit like separate 'never write' buttons in one go XD #so sorry i really just went 'oh wens in lotus pier? NICE' and then ran away adsjlhka

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bloody-bee-tea · 5 years ago

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Worthy of a god - Xichengclipse 2020 Day 7

This is entirely thanks to @ruensroad who humored me a lot and gave me so many great ideas for the prompts of ‘Loyalty’ and ‘Honesty’ because I had zero ideas for this. But then along came a savior and gave me this wonderful inspiration!

When Jiang Cheng wakes up, nerves are already churning in his gut.

Today is the big day. The day the gods come down to earth to choose their disciples. It only happens once a year and only those who are eighteen are eligible to be chosen. If no god chooses you on this day then there won’t be a second chance.

Jiang Cheng knows that there is a chance Chifeng-zun will choose him; he is the god of war and rage and ever since Jiang Cheng was old enough to scowl there had been talk at Lotus Pier, how well he would fit with that.

But Jiang Cheng also knows that there is a bigger chance of no god choosing him at all.

It is his biggest fear, especially since Wei Wuxian would stand right by his side during the ceremony.

Jiang Cheng eyes Wei Wuxian who is getting ready right next to him and dread pools in his stomach. Wei Wuxian will probably be chosen by multiple gods and then a fight will break out amongst them. Somehow Jiang Cheng will get dragged into this, he will end up at the centre of it, and in the end the whole thing will reflect badly only on him.

His father will be quietly disappointed, his mother will be loudly furious and his sister will simply smile her kind smile at him, while tending to Wei Wuxian’s injuries and congratulation Wei Wuxian for being chosen.

It has happened before, and it will happen again, too, because Jiang Cheng never knows when to just let his brother dive headfirst into danger.

But the fact still remains; Wei Wuxian will get chosen despite the commotion he will no doubt cause and Jiang Cheng probably won’t, since he will cause too much trouble defending his brother.

“Are you excited?” Wei Wuxian suddenly asks him, bumping their shoulders together and Jiang Cheng scowls at him.

“What’s there to be excited about?” Jiang Cheng grumbles. “I’m not the one who will get chosen,” he quietly tacks on, but Wei Wuxian still seems to hear him, because the excited smile slides right off his lips.

“Of course you’ll get chosen,” Wei Wuxian tells him, with so much conviction in his voice that even Jiang Cheng almost believes it for a second. “You’ll get a wonderful god, you’ll see.”

“Right,” Jiang Cheng huffs out. “Because the god of war is such a wonderful prospect,” he bitterly tacks on and then chastises himself for it.

He really shouldn’t be badmouthing the gods on any day, but this day especially.

“He’s not so bad,” Wei Wuxian tries. “Remember last year? How he laughed so loudly it sounded like thunder claps? Clearly he’s not all rage,” Wei Wuxian tries and Jiang Cheng has to admit that Wei Wuxian might be right.

Chifeng-zun is not entirely bad, Jiang Cheng knows that, but even though he never allowed himself to think about which god he would choose if he had the choice, he knows that he wouldn’t go for Chifeng-zun.

“Come on, it will be fun!” Wei Wuxian jolts him out of his thoughts and drags him outside, where half of Lotus Pier is already waiting for them as it seems.

Jiang Cheng takes one last deep breath and then he follows his family.

~*~*~

The ceremony itself is boring. There’s a lot of talk, reminders of how the disciples should always be the most obedient and helpful for their gods, before the signal is fired off and the gods actually show up.

Jiang Cheng inwardly wonders why they get to skip all the boring parts but then he’s blinded by the first light announcing the arrival of the first god and he found out long ago that it’s just easier to keep his eyes closed until all of them have arrived.

The gods that show up on this day vary from year to year, but the big ones, the ones that are the most powerful, are always there.

Chifeng-zun of course, but Zewu-jun, Hanguang-jun and Lianfang-zun are always amongst them as well.

There is another exceedingly boring portion where each god gets greeted individually before all the disciples that are eligible this year are called forwards.

Jiang Cheng steps up right next to Wei Wuxian and while Wei Wuxian beams at the gods, Jiang Cheng can’t help but to lower his gaze and worry the hem of his robe.

If he doesn’t get chosen this year, he’ll bring dishonour on his family, and his mother will never forgive himself. If he doesn’t get chosen and Wei Wuxian does then his mother will expect him to forever hate Wei Wuxian for taking this opportunity away from him and Jiang Cheng knows that he never could.

Jiang Cheng desperately wishes this day was over already.

When it’s time for the first god to choose, a hush falls over the crowd. All eyes turn to Zewu-jun, because he always gets first choice, mostly because it’s been centuries since he took his last disciple.

No one knows what exactly he’s looking for, who he is waiting for, but so far he never took anyone with him.

He’s the god of loyalty and the capacity of self-sacrifice and Jiang Cheng supposes in this time and age it must be increasingly difficult to find a selfless person like that.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t care much for the gods, if he’s being honest, but there is always something lonely in the corner of Zewu-jun’s eyes, and Jiang Cheng finds himself hoping that this year he’ll find someone to keep him company.

Zewu-jun gets up from his seat, and everyone is waiting for the annual head-shake they got so accustomed to, but instead Zewu-jun leaves his place.

He must have found someone worthy enough.

There’s a beat of dead silence over the place, before an excited murmur goes through the crowd. There are speculations, Jiang Cheng can tell, but he keeps his eyes on the ground, hoping that this goes over fast.

Jiang Cheng only lifts his gaze when white shoes step into his line of sight and then don’t disappear again. Still, Jiang Cheng is slow to react until Wei Wuxian elbows him into the side and only then does Jiang Cheng lift his head.

Zewu-jun is standing directly in front of him, looking right at Jiang Cheng, and Jiang Cheng swallows.

He wonders what he could have possibly done to upset this god—because this is the only possible explanation for his strange behaviour—and he falls into a deep bow.

“This disciple apologizes,” he gets out, acutely aware of all eyes on him and then he’s being lifted out of the bow by gentle hands.

“For what?” Zewu-jun asks him, and his voice is softer than Jiang Cheng imagined it to be.

“For—,” Jiang Cheng starts and then he helplessly works his jaw because he can’t think of anything to apologize for.

He doesn’t know what he did to upset Zewu-jun after all.

“For upsetting Zewu-jun,” he eventually carefully says and is completely taken off guard when Zewu-jun smiles at him.

“But you have done the opposite,” Zewu-jun tells him and his voice runs like a shiver down Jiang Cheng’s back. “You are delighting me.”

Jiang Cheng can almost feel how Wei Wuxian is vibrating out of his skin next to him, but Jiang Cheng feels strangely detached from himself.

“I’m what now?” he blurts out and when he hears a scandalized gasp from behind him, he slaps a hand over his mouth, his face burning with mortification.

“Xichen, you’re scaring the guy,” Chifeng-zun suddenly calls down to them, and Zewu-jun laughs lightly at that.

“That was not my intention,” Zewu-jun gives back over his shoulder and then actually slightly bows his head to Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng wants to die on the spot.

“I would choose you as my disciple,” Zewu-jun says, finally explaining what’s going on here, even though it barely does anything to make this situation more understandable.

“But you’re the god of undying loyalty and the willingness to sacrifice oneself,” Jiang Cheng blurts out, because this cannot be right.

“And you are the perfect disciple for me,” Zewu-jun gives back, endless patience in his voice and Jiang Cheng has to swallow at that.

He never dared to hope for anything like this, but standing here, in Zewu-jun’s gentle light; it already feels like he’s home.

“If you would have this unworthy disciple,” Jiang Cheng finally gets out, bowing low again like the custom demands, but he’s yet again stopped by a hand catching his wrist.

“There is nothing unworthy about you,” Zewu-jun assures him and then goes back to his seat.

He has made his choice.

Jiang Cheng isn’t sure he takes in anything past this point; he’s dimly aware that Wei Wuxian got chosen by Hanguang-jun, the god of everything that is right and the bearer of light, but apart from that the whole afternoon escapes Jiang Cheng.

He regains a bit of his senses when it comes the time to say goodbye to his family for now, for Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian won’t be allowed to return to the mortal plane for the first five years of their training, but even that mostly flows past him.

He only becomes aware of his surroundings again when it’s time to leave with Zewu-jun.

“Are you sure you’re not making a mistake?” Jiang Cheng can’t help but to ask Zewu-jun because he still has a hard time wrapping his head around this.

“Are you questioning my judgement?” Zewu-jun asks him, his voice mild, but Jiang Cheng still blanches.

“I am questioning my worthiness, Zewu-jun,” he quickly gives back and watches in awe as Zewu-jun’s face softens.

“I have waited a long time for someone like you, Wanyin,” Zewu-jun says as he cups Jiang Cheng’s face in his hand. “And my disciples call me Lan Xichen.”

Jiang Cheng swallows at that, because it’s a great honour to call a god by their old name and he can hardly believe that he’s already being granted that honour.

“Will you accompany me?” Lan Xichen asks him, his voice low and almost intimate. “Will you stay by my side?”

It is unheard of, that a god asks their chosen disciples for their opinion, and yet Jiang Cheng doesn’t doubt for a second that if he should say no, Lan Xichen would let him go without a word.

Jiang Cheng looks at this god in front of him—his god, should he choose so—and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what he’s doing but he’s slightly raising up on the tip of his toes, reaching out to cup Lan Xichen’s face in his hand in turn.

He sees how Lan Xichen’s eyes go wide, but how they stay soft and gentle, and Jiang Cheng nods.

“I will stay with you” Jiang Cheng promises his god—means it with everything that he is—and is stunned, when Lan Xichen briefly leans into his hand.

“Let’s go home, then,” Lan Xichen says and takes Jiang Cheng’s hand in his own, to safely guide him up into heaven and into their new home.

This now comes with a sequel

{Buy me a kofi}

#bt writes #the untamed #mdzs #xicheng #xichengclipse2020 #pre-relationship #au #god!lxc #mortal!jc

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imagine-mdzs-cql · 5 years ago

Note

Hmm, what do you think about reader trying to hide an animal of your choice from NMJ, LXC (and JGY if it's alright)??

3zun with adorable animals coming right up! Also those of you who know a thing or two about Zhu Zanjin (who played JGY in The Untamed) will see what I did there.

Also this is pretty long so it´s under the cut!

Lan Xichen: Pets were forbidden in Cloud Recesses. You knew this of course. But you also knew that Lan Wangji, the supposed living personification of the 3000 rules of Gusu had been keeping bunnies for years. So when you found an entire colony of otters during an exploration in the back hills, you were thrilled to find out that they were not only a curious bunch but also very friendly once persuaded with a few snacks. They were living in nature so they weren't technically pets, right?

It had been half a year since you'd made friends with this furry bunch. Xichen and you had been walking around Cloud Recesses completely immersed in conversation. It was too late when you noticed you had wandered a little too close to the riverbanks. You felt yourself tense up when you heard the little, familiar squeaks from the left. Seconds later they came wiggling their way up onto the path gathering around you excitedly getting the bottom of your clothing wet. When you dared to look Xichen´s face was frozen in an astonished smile.

“I didn't know there were otters in the back hills.” You felt sweat forming on your brow.

“Um, yes me neither.”

“Are you sure? They seem to be very happy to see you.”

He gave you that one smile. The ´I know you're lying but I'm going to pretend I don't so you can come out with it yourself´ smile. No one could fight that one. You slumped under the pressure. “Okay, okay I come down here to feed them sometimes. And you know… play with them and pet them and… but they're not pets! They're wild animals! Can't you see how wild they are?”

One of the otters flopped over right in front of you presenting it's fat belly.

“Oh yes, absolutely feral.” Xichen let out a warm chuckle before looking back at you. “Y/N, there is no need to worry. I will not tell anyone about this unlikely friendship you have formed. As long as you promise to take me with you sometime when you go to visit them again.” He winked. Zewu-jun had just winked at you.

“Of course, Zewu-jun! Thank you Zewu-jun!”

Jin Guangyao: “Y/N, what's in your sleeve?” You almost jumped out of your skin and whirled around holding your sleeve tight so your precious cargo wouldn't be jostled too much. The smile on Jin Guangyao's face was a pleasant one as always and yet you really wished he wasn't here right now. You saluted as was courtesy.

“Good evening, Sect Leader Jin. A lovely night isn't it?” Maybe, just maybe you'd be able to wiggle your way out of this one. Lianfang-zun stepped forward to stand next to you on the veranda.

“A lovely night indeed.” he hummed looking at the rising moon. “Still, you haven't answered my question.” Damn, better come up with something quick.

“Oh it's just… it's just some treats I nicked from the kitchen. I was too embarrassed to tell you. I apologize for wasting your time.” You dropped your head hoping he wouldn't catch onto the lie.

The pleasant smile hadn't left his face but his voice dropped slightly when he spoke.

“Y/N. I would really prefer it if you would refrain from lying to me.” That's it you were caught.

“You're right, of course. Forgive me, Chief Cultivator.” you said with a soft sigh. Then you reached into your sleeve and carefully presented to him the smallest, big-eyed animal he had ever seen. Jin Guangyao´s eyes went wide and his fake smile dropped.

“What is that??” He said softly as if to not disturb the tiny furball in your hand.

You spoke equally quiet not wanting anyone to overhear your conversation. “It's called a Sugar Glider. This one is almost full grown!”

The Jin sect leader smiled once more but this time out of pure excitement. “Where did you find him?”

You relaxed glad the situation had taken a turn. “He was found in a fruit box that came from overseas. I asked one of the sailors about him and he told me everything. He should be waking up soon... Do you want to hold him?”

Jin Guangyao´s eyes lit up. “Can I?”

“Yes, of course.” You showed him how to hold the small marsupial putting his hands together until they were almost completely surrounding the sugar glider. You stayed like that for a while watching the little furball slowly waking up and becoming more active. Eventually the Sect Leader gave it's fur a last careful pet with his thumb and then handed it back to you.

“Tell me, should you succeed in raising him. If you do I'll ask the harbor master to import more of them. He deserves a family after all, wouldn't you agree Y/N?”

Nie Mingjue: You had no idea how you had wound up in this situation. You had just wanted to rest for a second sitting down on a rock on the side of the road to Qinghe, when the rock had suddenly moved. Then completely baffled you had apologized to said rock and gone on your way to rest somewhere else only to discover that the rock was now following you. You had pinched yourself and then splashed water in your face repeatedly thinking you were seeing things from being on the road for too long. But the image wouldn't go away and when you finally approached, saber drawn to investigate you saw that this rock wasn't actually a rock at all. Instead you saw a large shell with four legs coming out the bottom and a dark-eyed face staring back at you. A large tortoise had been following you all along.You found yourself completely puzzled but decided that it would be best to ignore the large animal and just get back on your way.

Mingjue had been delighted to see you back in the Unclean Realm, though one could only tell when they had lived with him for some time. Soon you had forgotten all about your strange encounter.

That was until you awoke in your chambers late at night to a sort of chafing sound against the wooden doors. At first you thought you were just hearing things but as soon as you laid down again the sound could be heard again. You grabbed your saber from your bedside and slowly, quietly sliding the door open.

Okay, you had officially gone insane. Why was this tortoise here again? And how had it even gotten in?? The Unclean Realm was surrounded by high stone walls!

“What do you want from me??” You hissed looking down the hallway to see if anyone was there. Here you were talking to animals again. The tortoise just looked at you judgingly and then moved pushing you back inside your room to then walk over to the corner unbothered by your indignation to then retreat back into it's shell. You couldn't believe this. But what were you gonna do? You had no choice but to just go back to bed.

The next morning you were alone in your room. Had you just been having weird dreams? You got ready for the day and went down to the training grounds. You weren't ready for the sight of four Nie disciples trying to lift a giant tortoise, your giant tortoise, off the ground. Mingjue stood off to the side overseeing the “efforts”. You stood by his side.

“Sect Leader.” “Y/N, can you believe this? How did this thing get in here?” You nodded as you heard him say exactly what you had thought earlier. “Sect Leader, with all due respect. I think our efforts will be futile.” Mingjue´s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“This tortoise has been following me around since yesterday. I too have no idea how she got in.”

“You didn't see it?”

“No.”

Mingjue looked as if he was already ready for this day to be over. “Fine. Doesn't look like we´ll be able to move it anyway.”

“It's a she… at least I think so.”

I hope this last one was okay I got carried away. Hope you´ll still like it :,D

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henshengs · 5 years ago

Text

for the day 5 Whumptober prompt, “Rescue”, I decided to let my boy Su She have a little happiness, as a treat

cw: this is a “JGY in Gentian House” AU, there is background Xiyao dubcon. It’s not as bad as Su She thinks it is, but JGY is definitely a prisoner and it’s definitely dubious.

read on AO3, or below

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The waiting is the worst part, but Su She is more than capable of patience when necessary, and this is very necessary. In his mind he counts down the guard rotations, the disruptions to the wards he’d timed for very precise intervals. In his mind he uses the musical score he composed, to help him remember exactly. Lianfang-zun helped him develop that technique, years ago, a way for Su She to keep up with the Jin sect leader despite lacking his formidable memorization abilities. Humming a tune in the low back of his throat keeps him calm, as well. One second, and then another, and then-

He is proud of his skill with the Teleportation Talisman, thrilled every time he is called upon to use it in Lianfang-zun’s service, but it’s draining, every time, it feels like half his blood has been suddenly leeched, as the world around him swirls into flame and reforms unsteadily under his feet. The moonless night, the snowy forest, becomes a candlelit house, pale paper walls and elegant dark furniture. Once he’s seen enough to know he’s hit the correct target, the details of the house become irrelevant. His eyes search only for the treasure he has come seeking, and he finds it, a small figure in white, curled up on a too-large bed.

“Zong- zongzhu,” he calls, voice stuttering. It’s been so long, and now that he’s finally here he’s crushed in the grip of mixed shame and trepidation. The figure shifts, turning towards his voice, and his legs unlock, and his shoes are thumping across the dark wood floors as he races to Lianfang-zun’s side.

He pauses there for a moment, caught in horror and rage at the sight of the man he has come to steal away. Jin Guangyao’s hair falls loose around his face. He is wearing only a thin white inner robe, and it falls half off one shoulder. Su She’s eyes almost glance over the missing arm, he’s so distracted by the dark bruises dappling Jin Guangyao’s neck and shoulders, his bitten, bleeding lip.

“Minshan,” Jin Guangyao says, eyes wide, and the dull roar in Su She’s ears is temporarily broken, because this is the moment he’s dreamed of for six months, and now, impossibly, it’s here.

“Zongzhu,” he says, bending into a quick but deep bow. Straightening, he asks, “Zewu-jun?” He can taste his own anger in the words, bright and coppery.

“He just left,” Jin Guangyao says, and Su She isn’t sure whether to be disappointed or relieved by that, because he’s never wanted to kill anyone as much as he wants to kill Lan Xichen right now, but he doesn’t have time to find out if that’s something Jin Guangyao would want. “Minshan, you- you came. I thought, after the first few months passed and you didn’t come, I thought you must be dead. Or that…” His beautiful voice trails off, and Su She could listen to him forever but he’s glad that sentence wasn’t finished.

“I wouldn’t leave you,” he says, fervently. “Never!”

“I know,” Jin Guangyao says soothingly. He sits up, and pulls his underrobe closed, slowly, awkwardly with only one hand. “Of course not, it’s just it’s been difficult to think straight. Can you forgive me, Minshan?”

“Of course,” Su She says, he’d forgive anything, he’s so happy to be hearing Jin Guangyao’s voice again, seeing him, even so terribly abused. “But zongzhu, may we leave? There isn’t much time before the wards will be repaired.”

Jin Guangyao shakes his head, as though to clear it. “Of course,” he says. “We can leave as soon as you are ready.”

“There’s nothing here you wish to bring?” Su She asks.

Jin Guangyao is quiet for a moment, and then he says, firmly, “No, nothing.”

To use the teleport talisman in such quick succession is courting danger. Su She has practiced for months to make sure he will have enough stamina. With two passengers, the situation is safest with maximum physical contact, so, feeling himself flush a little, Su She pulls Jin Guangyao into his arms. He almost wishes, as the magical flames spring up around them, for Lan Xichen to come running in at that moment, so he can see what Su She is stealing from him. But the house is empty as it disappears around them.

As the flames die down, Su She can see the bare stones of the safehouse walls, and that’s when his legs give out from under him. “Minshan!” Jin Guangyao exclaims, and tries to catch him with his one arm. They both fall together onto their knees.

“I’m sorry, zongzhu, please forgive this servant,” Su She babbles, and then his words are stolen as Jin Guangyao presses a palm to his cheek. He remembers every touch he has received from Jin Guangyao and none of them have been like this. Jin Guangyao’s eyes are wet with tears.

“Minshan, please don’t apologize,” he says. “You’re my savior. Please, there’s no need to be formal. Surely you can call me Guangyao, now.”

Su She can only nod, unable to speak. Jin Guangyao nods with him, mouth lifting in a tremulous smile, and then his hand slides from Su She’s face to curl around his shoulders, and he leans forward to tuck his head against Su She’s neck, and Su She can feel Jin Guangyao’s body tremble as he whispers, “Thank you. I’m so glad to see you.”

The lonely months of hiding and planning and spying on the mountain that was once his home have all been worth it. Tentatively holding on to Jin Guangyao, Su She thinks that he has never been happier.

#su she #su minshan #suyao #jin guangyao #my fic #gentian house au

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isabilightwood · 4 years ago

Text

The Problem with Authority - Chapter 1

CQL!Verse, Wangxian and Yanqing, canon divergence with Qin Su sacrifice summoning JYL after Jin Rusong’s death. JYL teams up with NHS to fix things, starting with bringing back WWX. Wen Qing is alive because I said so, and LWJ gets in the way of plotting because he’s a romantic.

See my self reblog for the AO3 link/additional tags and warnings

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The problem with authority is that if you leave it lying around, others will take it. — Yoon Ha Lee, Ninefox Gambit

Qin Su was tired of the constant hovering.

Every time she set foot outside her own rooms, she was beset by disciples and the wives of subordinates, telling her over and over how very sorry they were.

It was all bullshit.

Fake, social climbing schemers, who were more concerned with the fact that Jin Guangshan’s legitimate grandson was once again the sect heir, than sorry for the death of her son. Her A-Song.

They expected her to sob constantly, to wail and tear her hair from her scalp. That they could comfort Qin Su by repeating the same trite, cloying words day-by-day. Earn a little status out of tragedy. If Qin Su had to listen to one more apology, she was going to be sick all other the offending madam’s embroidery hoop.

It was true that she still couldn’t go a day without crumbling into tears. But mostly, she was numb. Exhausted, in more ways than one. She wanted to go to sleep, and wake with her son tucked safely into bed, or not wake up at all.

The private treasury was the only place where she could be certain she would not be disturbed. Even in her own bedroom, it would only be so long before a maid was sent to find her. Only she and her husband could open the hidden entrance to the vault. Only in the treasury, could she be alone, to find something to distract herself, however briefly, from the avalanche of her grief.

There were still many items that had been claimed by her deceased father-in-law after the war that had not been cataloged. Priceless relics and weapons and irreplaceable texts alike sat neglected in trunks. Jin Guangshan had cared only for possession, occasionally touting one item or another out to show off. Ten months after A-Yao’s succession, shelves continued to sit empty. Neither she nor A-Yao had found the time, busy keeping everything running smoothly, as he made bids for projects he called progress with the gleam in his eyes that had first made her chase after him. Back when he seemed flattered by her attention, interested in her as more than a friend or colleague.

Qin Su herself managed the internal minutiae of the Sect and oversaw disciple training. The latter would traditionally fall to the Head Disciple, but they had lost one after another. The woman who had been intended to aid Jin Zixuan had resigned over some disagreement before his death. Her replacement, a second or third cousin to the main Jin Clan, married out to the leader of the Fengyang Hua Sect, a growing sect that bordered Gusu and Lanling. Their replacement died at Nightless City, along with the next dozen or so disciples in line. And so Qin Su was free to manage the training as she wished.

Or had been, until she was asked to take a step back from training, for fear her grief would destabilize her qi. It was true that she had been unable to focus. However, stewing in the unending reminders that she would never hold A-Song in her arms again was no help. Attending to her duties as a hostess only made it worse.

Sorting the looted relics was mindless work, that required none of the focus she had lacked for the forty-one days since A-Song’s death. But it was something to occupy her hands, and some small part of her thoughts.

She began with the books that day, sorting into titles that were common and could be sold, those that needed to be repaired, and those to dangerous to be held anywhere but the treasury. Qin Su moved to start a new pile, for useful, rare texts that should be copied, on a table, and a disorganized pile of notes and notebooks caught her eye.

It was the disorganization that stood out. A-Yao never left anything out like that. He must have been called away, but if he returned and saw it, that would trigger his own flood of tears. Qin Su had heard him sobbing, late into the night, from the next room over. But each morning, he greeted his work with his habitual dedication, no matter how puffy his eyes, or how little he’d slept. A-Yao would never forgive himself if his work was delayed by his composure crumbling over a small thing out of place.

She picked up the papers, intending only to organize them into an even stack, and place them evenly between the notebooks. But their subject caught her attention.

A circular array was drawn on each paper. Identical, to her unpracticed eyes, with varied notes printed in precise calligraphy in different locations on each page.

Qin Su had always focused on the sword, leaving talismans to those with innovative minds yet weaker cores, like her husband. Yet this array made her look twice.

Sacrifice Summon was written at the top of the first page, the one with the least writing. The soul of the caster is permanently exchanged for that of a chosen spirit or ghost, fully resurrecting the deceased. It was a complex design, meant to drawn in the blood of the caster.

Voices, from the other side of the portal. A-Yao must have wanted to show an item from the vault to a guest. Her heartbeat sped up, her hands shaking as she dropped the papers back onto the table.

The last thing Qin Su wanted was to have to greet her husband’s guests, while he smiled his disappointment in her for shirking her duties.

She raised the tablecloth and ducked beneath, knocking one of the papers off the table as she did so. Catching it, she pulled it to her chest, dropping the cloth back into place just in time. It was dark in the small space, and stuffy. Her heart hammered hard enough Qin Su felt certain it must be audible throughout the room. But her presence was not discovered, and so Qin Su did not have to answer as to why Jin-furen was hiding from her own husband.

“The remainder of the He Clan has been dealt with.” Su Minshan reported. His voice was easily identifiable from the obsequiousness with which he always treated her husband. She’d asked A-Yao what he saw in him once, and he’d flashed his dimples at her and said, unfaltering loyalty is a trait I cannot afford to lose. So Qin Su tolerated Su Minshan, though he made her skin crawl. And made certain never to be caught alone with him. “Xue Yang tracked them down to the last man.”

Why he kept Xue Yang around, on the other hand, was a mystery.

“Good, that’s good,” A-Yao said. Never shy of heaping praise on his subordinates, he would be smiling up at the other man. “Tell me, what did Xue Yang bring back with him?”

“A few urchins, from town. He said they were his payment for leaving the bodies alone.” Su Minshan scoffed, disgusted.

It didn’t sound like Xue Yang had brought the children to become disciples.

There was the slap of a forehead hitting a palm. A-Yao’s voice was slightly muffled as he gave an exasperated sigh. “I told him he could experiment with animals or dead bodies or not at all. Especially not children.” There was the slightest break in his voice at the word children. “Xue Yang has outlived his usefulness. Have him disposed of and left somewhere remote.”

The command was delivered coldly, casually. He sounded nothing like the warm, if more distant than Qin Su had initially expected, husband she knew.

“Yes, Zongzhu.” A pair of disciples said, their footsteps receding as they took their leave.

“Your research is not completed, is it?” Su Minshan asked, once they were gone.

“I have better means now. My dear younger brother is eager to please, and will not dismember the test animals for kicks and giggles.” A-Yao spoke as though this was an ongoing discussion, yet Qin Su, his wife, had never heard a whisper of research on animals before that day. Only of field testing of the Yiling Patriarch’s inventions. “Or decide to run tests on townspeople and dismember them, too.”

Just what had her husband been allowing Xue Yang to do? It seemed impossible that flighty little Mo Xuanyu could achieve it, whatever it was.

“Another headache eliminated, then.” Su Minshan said. “That’s nearly all the most dangerous ones out of the way.”

There was a weighted pause before A-Yao replied, incongruously. “I did love my son, you know.”

“I did not mean to imply otherwise.” Su Minshan rushed to assure him. “I am deeply sorry this step was necessary.”

Step? What was he implying about A-Song?

“If only that woman had told you the truth earlier.” Su Minshan snarled. “Keeping it a secret while her daughter courted her own half-brother? What a selfish bitch.”

What? Qin Su clapped her hands over her mouth, stifling a choked gasp.

“Now, Minshan, please. You remember what my father was like. We were all of us his victims. A-Su, me, and both of our mothers.” For the first time, Qin Su understood what Lianfang-zun’s detractors meant when they said he dripped insincerity. “Ultimately, A-Song’s death can be placed at his feet.”

But A-Song was murdered after Jin Guangshan died, she thought stupidly. Utterly frozen in place, the short, harsh pants of her breath the only sign she had not just been dropped into hell. The two men spoke for a few more minutes, but Qin Su didn’t hear a word.

It was some time after they left that Qin Su moved, her stiff joints causing her to fall onto her side on the edge of the tablecloth.

How was she ever supposed to face the court, knowing what she did now? Look her half-brother in the face without screaming?

The honorable thing would be to expose him, and to then take her own life to restore her own honor.

She couldn’t. She couldn’t do that to her father, to her older siblings. Half-siblings, now, she supposed, with a crazed giggle. The only real siblings, the only real father Qin Su would ever have. It would be better if they never knew what had happened to their mother. To her.

But she couldn’t carry on as she had, either.

The forgotten paper crinkled in her hands. The Sacrifice Summon. Exchanging her life for another��s.

Was that the solution she was searching for? Could she?

Qin Su remembered her husband’s - her brother’s voice saying especially not children. Only breaths before declaring his own son’s death necessary.

Her A-Song was lost forever.

There was, however, another child under Lianfang-zun’s care. Another mother whose son was not lost, but who had nevertheless lost the chance to see him grow. If Qin Su exchanged her life for that woman’s, perhaps her soul would pass on quickly enough to find A-Song in another life.

Jiang Yanli would see Jin Ling grow up safely, ensure Lianfang-zun did not keep the power he had married his own sister and murdered his own son to secure.

That would be best for everyone.

Qin Su shakily extracted herself from beneath the table, returning to the one room she could be certain Lianfang-zun would never enter.

Now she knew why.

Locking the door to her room, Qin Su emptied what little was in her stomach into the chamber pot. When she was through, she began to draw the array.

The first thing Jiang Yanli noticed was the silence. She had been on the battlefield at Nightless City, pushed A-Xian aside, and a sword went through her heart —

She had been dead. She was certain.

Oh, A-Xian. What did you do?

Slowly, Jiang Yanli sat up. She was sprawled on the floor of a well-appointed lady’s bedroom. In Koi Tower, by the color scheme, but its occupant had uncommon taste. Rather than gilded everything, there were accents of gold on the drapery and to emphasize ink paintings of the ocean and a palace she did not recognize.

There was also the matter of the array of blood that surrounded her. Demonic cultivation, which only supported her certainty that A-Xian was involved. But where was he? And if she was in Koi Tower, where was her son?

Yunmeng, something inside her whispered. Though she could not explain why, she knew it was true.

Checking herself for cuts, she found a gash across the palm of her hand. But it was already sealing, far faster than Jiang Yanli had healed from so much as a paper cut before her death.

She wasn’t an expert in raising the dead like her brother, but Jiang Yanli was fairly certain fierce corpses did not work that way. At the very least, she should have been bleeding black. Yet her blood was as red as ever.

Getting to her feet, she started to inspect the room for clues. On the way to the desk, she passed a mirror. Her gaze skipped past a mirror. And snapped back.

It was not Jiang Yanli’s face that looked back.

This woman’s face was rounder and softer than her own. Pretty, with a natural pink in her cheeks where Jiang Yanli’s had always had to be painted on, due to the frequency with which she lost her breath and grew dizzy. There, too, was a hint of the agelessness that came with a fully developed golden core. With a feeling of foreboding, Jiang Yanli felt along her meridians until she reached her core. No longer a weak, underdeveloped thing due to her inability to practice the heavily physical Jiang techniques, it shone bright and strong.

That was a point against this being A-Xian’s doing. He wouldn’t have stolen her a body, when he could simply bring back her own.

Why am I alive? Asked a voice in her head.

That would have been a reasonable question. Only it wasn’t Jiang Yanli thinking it.

Maybe resurrection came with the ability to understand spirits. The results were entirely untested, so it was possible. Yet the voice seemed certain it was alive. If her current state was due to demonic cultivation, she might as well do what A-Xian would: experiment.

“I could ask you the same question.” Jiang Yanli told the voice.

Jiang Yanli? It worked! But why am I in your head?

“Are you the one who brought me back?” She tilted her head back, trying to place the way the voice made her head feel. Almost like the moment at the start of meditation when she began to forget her body to focus on her spirit, but with a disconnect keeping her grounded.

Yes. And then, I can hear your thoughts, the voice said, you don’t need to speak out loud.

That was disconcerting. Is this your body? She thought at the voice.

Yes. The voice said. Stop calling me that. I’m Qin Su.

Strangely, it was a relief to have a name. It made Qin Su feel more real than anything else in this surreal afterlife. So it would be more accurate to say I’m in your head. Am I possessing you?

It was supposed to be an exchange. My soul for yours.

Well clearly, it hadn’t worked that way.

Responding to her unformed question, the woman continued. The array is on the desk.

This… It was obviously A-Xian’s work, copied out by a more careful hand. But it looked incomplete, a half-developed first draft or his scattered notes on an older text that he could always piece back together perfectly, but left out crucial details for anyone else. Utterly unlike the labeled, if nearly illegible, minutiae on his complete work. Jiang Yanli would never have cast an array with so little information. Especially not one of A-Xian’s.

I didn’t know the Yiling Patriarch. And I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.

No, she supposed not. Anyone casting this array would have to be desperate.

Everything fell apart and I just… used what I had on hand. There was the impression of a shrug, like her mind contorting itself into a new shape. My impulse decisions always have terrible consequences. That’s how I ended up pregnant and marrying the last person in the world I should have. Qin Su gave a short, harsh burst of hysterical laughter, startling Jiang Yanli into making the same noise aloud.

Telling whoever this abusive asshole was that her husband had died only a week ago, and she was certainly not performing any marital duties could wait until she figured out what Qin Su had done.

There are other pages with more notes in the treasury.

Jiang Yanli sprang to her feet. I’ll need to see them immediately.

She slid open the doors, and came face to face with a maid carrying cleaning supplies. Jiang Yanli quickly shut the doors behind her, so the maid could not catch a glimpse of the blood still staining the floor.

“Oh! Jin-furen.” The maid bowed deeply. “This one apologizes for assuming you would be out.”

It was something of a shock to be addressed by a title that had, from her perspective, belonged to her mother-in-law only yesterday. Jin-furen?

Ah, yes. I’ve been Jin-furen since Jin Guangshan… passed… ten months ago. The word “passed” came with a flash of embarrassment, telling Jiang Yanli enough for her to extrapolate the cause of death.

Jin Guangyao must be Jin-zongzhu then. Strange, he hadn’t seemed the abusive type.

Not abuse. Worse. Qin Su gagged in her mind, making Jiang Yanli do the same.

“Are you all right, Jin-furen?” The maid asked, hovering closer.

At least the gagging gave her an excuse not to allow anyone inside. “I’ll be fine. But please wait to clean until tomorrow. I’m afraid I’m not feeling well. Would you have some soup sent on a tray for my dinner?”

“Of course, Jin-furen.” The maid backed away, bowed, and hurried off.

Jiang Yanli turned to inspect the door, placing her hands on her hips. With Qin Su’s Golden Core, she could likely cast a locking spell. If she knew how, that was. She had always relied on A-Xian’s talismans, many of which he developed specifically for her. Unfortunately, she had none on hand.

That’s easy. Qin Su said. Draw the characters for lock, then modify it with…

It took Jiang Yanli a few tries to draw properly on her new core, but she was able to lock the door against casual entry. No cultivator with a sword would be kept out for long, but they would have to be willing to trespass in Jin-furen’s bedchamber.

The thin flush of victory faded the second she stepped through the treasury portal. Suibian lay on a shelf, visible from the door. A-Xian had not carried his sword for a long time. But he would never have handed it over to the Jin Clan, unless it was directly into Jiang Yanli’s arms. Something had gone terribly wrong.

Qin Su. Why is my A-Xian’s sword in the treasury? Jiang Yanli demanded. The answering silence was deafening. “Qin Su! Tell me why!”

He… died. At Nightless City. Not long after you did. Qin Su’s voice was hesitant, as though confused why she cared.

“No!” She let out a choked sob, clasping a hand over her mouth. A-Xian wasn’t — he couldn’t be —

Didn’t he kill you? I was told —

“No! Never!” A-Xian would never have hurt her. I tried to save him.

Silence, for a moment, other than Jiang Yanli’s own ragged breaths. Then, I’m sorry. I’ve learned a lot of things I believed were lies today. Perhaps what they said about him was too.

They were. A-Xian was bright, and good, and cared too much. He had never been what they thought. Jiang Yanli had not needed to ask to know A-Xuan’s death was a horrible mistake, likely the result of stepping in between his cruel, vindictive cousin and her brother at the wrong moment. If he had meant to kill Jin Zixun, A-Xian had had good reason.

I think anyone who had the misfortune of meeting Jin Zixun considered killing him. Qin Su said wryly.

Jiang Yanli had had those thoughts. She gave a watery giggle that was answered in her head. It was sweet of Qin Su to try to comfort her when she could feel that she was still reeling for her own reasons. The least Jiang Yanli could do in return was get her some answers.

On the table.

She found the stack of diagrams easily, along with a tattered notebook that appeared to contain A-Xian’s original work. Jiang Yanli flipped through that, knowing that unless had both gotten a hold of one of the few people that could read his note-taking scrawl — her, Lan Wangji, and perhaps Wen Qing, who had taken their turns as A-Xian’s sounding board in succession — and convinced them to help details would likely have been missed.

You can read that? Qin Su was incredulous.

Years of practice, she replied. Before Lan Wangji, Jiang Yanli had been the only person who took A-Xian’s inventions seriously, the only person willing to sit and listen while he bounced from idea to idea, eventually solving the problem himself.

The average person would not think it necessary to puzzle out the text under a sketch of Lan Wangji holding a child, assuming it was a caption. When it was, in fact, an absolutely crucial detail. A detail that had made A-Xian conclude the Sacrifice Summon Array should never be used.

There were perhaps a dozen variations on the array. Most worked in a similar way to what Qin Su had intended, summoning a spirit to take the caster’s place. The earliest could not target a specific soul, but A-Xian had worked that out. Luckily, Qin Su had used one of those arrays, allowing Jiang Yanli to be summoned, rather than causing the closest vengeful spirits to battle for her body. The very last caused the caster’s body to be torn apart, and replaced with a copy of the spirit’s own.

But every version had two things in common: a call for revenge, and the destruction of the caster’s soul.

In her mind, Qin Su went perfectly still.

Jiang Yanli had a theory as to why Qin Su’s soul had not been consumed by the array. It had started the job, pulling Jiang Yanli in, but Qin Su had not asked for revenge, and so the array spat most of her back out. What the consequences were, for either of their spirits, she could not begin to guess.

There was a distinctive air of panic to Qin Su’s continued silence.

Qin Su, Jiang Yanli prodded, if this had worked the way it’s written, your soul would have been consumed by it. What could have been worth this?

I didn’t know about that. I didn’t want that.

It didn’t happen. You’re still here. She attempted to reassure Qin Su, wishing there was a way to mentally pat someone on the head. That had always helped calm both her brothers.

I’m still here. Whatever the fuck that means. Qin Su giggled nervously. That wasn’t very ladylike.

I think it’s forgivable, under the circumstances. Jiang Yanli raised a sleeve to cover her smile.

You don’t know the half of it. Qin Su sighed. I didn’t think things like this happened, outside of stories.

Jiang Yanli waited for her to go on, gritting her teeth in response to a wave of bitterness.

Only a few hours ago, I found out my so-called husband is my half-brother and he murdered our son. And now here we are.

Oh. Jiang Yanli could not so much as think of a reassuring response. What the fuck is correct.

“A-Su,” Jin Guangyao said from behind her, before Qin Su could say anything more. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

#the untamed #cql #wangxian #yanqing #qin su #my fic

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stiltonbasket · 5 years ago

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a not-so-small preview of another twelve moons fic

no seriously this is over a thousand words y’all please comment/reblog this

**brief note for anyone who hasn’t read The Moon Was But a Coin of Gold; Jin Yun is Jin Guangyao’s reincarnation, born about ten years after his death at the Guanyin Temple as Jin Chan’s only son and Jin Ling’s nephew.

Jin Yun often thinks of the day Jin Guangyao's tomb was finally brought back to the Jinlintai, and of how he swayed on his feet and fell into a dead faint when Ling-shushu took him to light incense at the grave, and how he refused to enter the room where Lianfang-zun and Qin Su lay together in state until he was nearly twenty.

And now, faced with the evidence, Jin Yun can no longer deny it. All the proof is in front of him: his gut-wrenching agony whenever anyone called Lan Xiaohui the son of a whore, his strange, almost insistent fondness for spicy foods despite being born and raised in Lanling, where most dishes are mildly sweet, and even the dreams he keeps having of a young Lan Xichen looking at him in nothing short of adoration—and last but not least his own love for Zewu-jun, which was born the instant he first saw the man and has never faltered since.

Why was that smile so familiar to him, when he only saw it for the first time on the day of his formal naming ceremony? Why was he always so certain that Zewu-jun was a beautiful swordmaster, even though he never once saw him wield Shuoyue until the night he died? Why was he grieved by the fact that Lan Xichen scarcely ever laughed, when his laughter was always a rare and beautiful thing as far as Jin Yun can remember?

He thinks of what his Ling-shushu told him once, that Zewu-jun has been in mourning since Ling-shushu was a toddler, and wonders if Zewu-jun ever knew that the boy he gave up his core and his life to protect was the same man who broke his very soul more than forty years ago.

"You saved my life, and I repaid it with death," Zewu-jun whispered with his second-to-last breath, on that horrible cold night in the cave just after he regrew Jin Yun's missing hand. "It was all my fault, A-Yun. Forgive me, A-Yao, I...I'm sorry."

Suddenly, Jin Yin remembers being very small, wrapped in a length of embroidered golden silk and cradled in his mother's arms with laughter and talk echoing all around them...and then he recalls the feeling of his mother passing him to someone else, and being frightened when she let go of him.

But the arms he found himself in after that were just as warm as hers, just as gentle, and his tiny flailing fists had caught on a lock of soft black hair and tugged violently until the man bent down and kissed that little misbehaving hand instead of pushing it away.

He wanted to stay in that soft embrace, listening to a deep, slow heartbeat that was both completely unfamiliar and as well-known to him as his own. But then the warm lips pressed to his cheek were gone, and he was with his mother again: as heartbroken as a baby could be, crying at the top of his tiny lungs for someone he lost long ago before he could try to find them, someone he could never have and never, never keep, because he had broken their bond of trust before he was even born.

Lan Xichen caught that same hand in his and kissed it as he died, the same little hand that once tangled in his hair in a desperate attempt to cling to him when Jin Yun was only a bare month old, and he wonders if Zewu-jun knew what he had died for, and whom—if he would have hated Jin Yun if he did, and let the spider-demon take him, or if he recognized the sworn brother who betrayed him in Jin Yun's youthful face and gave up his life for him anyway.

But Zewu-jun had mourned Jin Guangyao, and it was said that he only ever touched Shuoyue again in the direst emergencies after it spilled his xiao-di's blood. He mourned Jin Guangyao as he mourned Nie Mingjue, whom everyone claimed had been his beloved, though never within Zewu-jun's hearing; and when Jin Yun met him again as a boy of twelve, he was mourning Jin Guangyao still, because Jin Yun saw him visiting the crypt where Lianfang-zun was buried with blue gentians in his arms and Ling-shushu at his side.

And then, as his grief-stricken dreams cloud over, he finds himself being pulled up into a familiar embrace, because Jin Yun seems to be a child again, cradled in the arms of a ray of moonlight made solid and clad all in white and silver—almost like a cloud reflecting fresh snow, or perhaps a single fallen star suspended in clear, cold water.

"I will come to you in life and in death, A-Yun," the kindly ghost tells him, wrapping Jin Yun's little body up in his own outer robe like he often used to do with his younger grandchildren before he died. "If you are ill, call for me and I will heal you, and if your heart is heavy, I will help you carry its burdens as well as I can. You were not at fault for any of it, and I would have held you just as dear even if you were."

"I was Jin Guangyao, wasn't I?" he asks, burying his face in Zewu-jun's soft gown and trying not to cry. "Wasn't I? Before, I mean?"

But Lord Mercy only holds him tighter, blanketing him in a soothing warmth that reaches his very soul despite the touch of his new healing flute on Jin Yun's cheek—a flute made of cracked ice clearer than diamond, in place of his white-bamboo Liebing—and sways back and forth like a willow bending in the wind, or like a sleepy mother too tired to sing her baby to slumber, but whose body took on the task of soothing the precious little son or daughter in her place.

"Jin Guangyao was my A-Yao, whatever else he was," he says quietly. "And Jin Yun has always been my A-Yun."

Whatever evil Jin Guangyao did, I loved him with all my heart, Jin Yun hears instead. And whoever Jin Yun is, or might have been, I love him, too.

"You should have hated me," Jin Yun whimpers, clinging even harder as a soft, satin cheek presses itself to his little forehead. "Why didn't you hate me?"

Lan Xichen is silent for a while, and then he speaks in a lulling, lilting voice that is both like and unlike the cadence it had in life; because the very sound of his breath brings healing to those who hear it now, and everything he says brings peace to Jin Yun, too.

"If my hand, of its own will, severed my own feet and left me lame, would I not still want to keep it?" he murmurs. "I could not be whole again, certainly, but I could try to be as whole as I could with what I had left. Do you understand, A-Yun?"

And somehow, inexplicably, Jin Yun realizes that he does.

#xiyao #platonic xiyao #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #heavenly official lan xichen #fic preview

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the-social-recluse · 6 years ago

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Trifecta

ChiFeng-zun

“You are referring to... you, me and Meng Yao taking an oath of brotherhood?”

The resplendence of Koi Tower has long been dulled by the setting sun, and yet Nie MingJue remains awake, scrutinising his friend’s suggestion. It’s not the first time he has heard it - XiChen can be very insistent on matters he considers worthy - but said idea does not sit at ease with him at all. Meng Yao. What has become of his humble deputy? Nie MingJue has always been intolerant to deceit, injustice and vanity. Once, he considered Meng Yao honest, but the man has since proven to be far too crafty to be so. Betrayed him rather then face rightful punishment... and yet, without his apparent help, the Sunshot Campaign would have still kept the land aflame, and Nie MingJue himself would have met his end at the hands of the Wen dogs. For one moment he tightens his grip on Baxia and sighs. Right now, it is time for peace, time to move forward. For the sake of his friend, his younger brother (too many members of his sect have met violent ends. He hopes HuaiSang would be strong enough to not wilt under the pressure when the time comes), and for a chance of change, he would take the oath and forgive.

ZeWu-jun

“Once we have taken the oath, you’ll become his big brother. This way, you will have the status and position to supervise him, just like how you discipline HuaiSang”

The moon shines brightly tonight, and Lan XiChen is in good spirits. His heart swells with pride at the thought of his dearest friend being accepted by his blood family, styled in the golden-filled ornaments of the LanLing Jin Sect. And his suggestion has finally been heard - they are going to swear an oath with Nie MingJue! It would strengthen the relations between all their sects, which would surely be beneficial in the wake of the passed war. There’s no question MingJue’s temper often matched the fury of QingHe Nie’s emblem, but these are calmer times. He would learn to curb it among the Triad’s company. And this oath, this companionship would do wonders for A-Yao. A smile played on Lan XiChen’s lips. Doesn’t he know A-Yao like no one else? Ever since before the Wens’ scorch has been brought under control, Meng Yao has been a selfless friend of his, risking everything to help him, protecting civilians on the front lines. WangJi’s the only one who has been closer to his heart. Now, looking to the future, with XiChen’s constant support and MingJue’s watchful guide, they would help Jin GuangYao let go of the blights of his past, together.

LianFang-zun

“Should there be treachery, so known by many, may his corpse be dismembered by five horses!”

The Venerated Triad is born the next morning. It brings him no joy. Jin GuangYao, he is called now. The new name feels heavy and fake, and has yet to matter in the eyes of others. He’ll get used to it, for it is a trivial burden for the life it promises. Yet how unfair it feels to hear his father to be congratulated instead of himself! Standing in the darkened hall of Koi Tower, away from sunlight, he observes his new brothers. XiChen is excited, while MingJue’s nervous. Oh? Hasn’t all been forgiven? It doesn’t matter, either. Being a member of the brotherhood and having privilege brings opportunities he could once only dream of! Now he can take time to plan his revenge on everyone who wronged him, however he wishes. Taking guqin lessons from ZeWu-jun would make a good respite in the meantime. And when revenge would be ready to be served... Speaking words of the oath, Jin GuangYao represses dread rising inside him. At least for his sworn brothers, it would be as inconspicuous as possible. It’s the least he can do to acknowledge the events that brought him here. And if he would be discovered, well. There are worse ways to die.

#Nie Mingjue #Lan Xichen #Jin Guangyao #魔��祖师 #Mo Dao Zu Shi #I don't know how this happened. Behold a 3zun fic

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a-very-fond-farewell · 4 years ago

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@lianfang-zun

I couldn’t stop thinking about this scientific theory of ours, but the only thing my brain was able to produce was this (I only had two colored pens and only 1 picture of an octopus on me, so forgive how bad this is). but yeah. the crabs looks especially bad bc it is supposed to sport a beard and that’s my headcanon for dwarves in this metaphor.

have a great day fam!

dwarfs and hobbits shouldn’t fuck. at least, not to have children. dwarflings are crafted, fauntlings are planted. that’s the natural order of things.

#niki answers #lianfang-zun #this shitpost got away from us at this point fam

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drwcn · 5 years ago

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haha this kid has it hard. There is not a single functional romance in this entire family. None. I wrote a little something :) I do take prompts, I just might not be very timely to respond, depending on my inspiration reserve and work schedule/exams etc. Again, btsf!verse (or post btsf!verse if you will, that’s where my brain is at these days), but can be read independently. Hope you don’t mind.

Warning: this is a fluff piece but a servant gets slapped in this. she is a minor, a trope frequently scene in historical dramas and traditional households.

When Jin Ling was seven years old, he developed his first crush. In the many years to come, he would develop many crushes - pretty girls, tall boys - but his first crush was on one of Jinlintai’s servant’s daughter, an older girl with shiny braids and soft dark eyes. And because he liked her, he found all sorts of reasons to see her (read: pester, command, annoy).

Jin Ling was a menace, and xiao-Rui had up until this point in time tolerated his behaviour, but this last straw was the one that finally broke the camel’s back.

Clack!

Jin Ling didn’t know the right vocabulary for it yet, but an older him would reflect on this as the moment he “fucked up”. The yin’er congee splattered across the marble floor and up the hem of his brocade robes, staining it. Beside the upturned cherry-wood tray, the jade bowl and ivory spoon laid in pieces.

Oops.

Jin Ling wouldn’t have panicked, because truly this was no big deal. He was sure the kitchen had lots of other bowls and could whip up another congee in no time. But then xiao-Rui slowly knelt down, curled up into a ball and began to cry.

Jin Ling felt all the calm instantly evaporate from his small seven year old body. Oh no! Crying girl?! What to do, what to do, what to do????

What did father do when mother cried??? Ah heck, what was he thinking? Mother didn’t cry. Crying was beneath Mother.

“What’s going on here?” A harsh voice echoed from down the hall. Jin Ling blinked, surprised. Nobody here ever dared use that tone of voice with him. At Lotus Pier maybe, he and his little sister Jiang Rao would get reprimanded for being particularly naughty, but that was usually their mother and she never needed to raise her voice to put the fear of immortals in them. Jin Ling swallowed nervously, looking over his shoulder, praying that Jiang Yanli didn’t somehow magically transport herself from Yunmeng to appear behind him.

She didn’t. Thank the gods.

From spring to fall of every year, Jin Ling spent his time at Lanling under the care of his uncle Lianfang-zun who he would one day succeed. After several months, Jin Ling had come to realize that his Uncle A-Yao was itching to spoil him due to having no children of his own. This meant outside of his daily lessons in cultivation and etiquette (sprinkled with just a little bit of politics), Jin Ling was allowed to run wild, something he was rarely allowed to do at his a-niang’s Lotus Pier unless his a-die championed on his behalf. Jiang Yanli was a gentle mother, sweet, soft-spoken, and loving. But everyone under the sun with half a brain knew Sect Master Jiang was a woman made out of diamond, forged by the war, beautiful and unbreakable. Up against her, even with his father and his two uncles backing him up, Jin Ling had no chance.

The voice that called out belonged to an older woman, a momo, neatly attired in pale orange and earth brown - servant’s colours - with her grey streaked hair tightly coiffed back into a severe bun. She walked briskly, back straight and face grim, until she came all the way up to them and their mess. [momo - an older female servant]

Once she saw who he was, she quickly relaxed her posture and curtsied deeply, “shizi*, shao-gongzi*, I apologize on behalf of the servants for not tending to your needs that you must trouble yourself to come down to the lower units. What may I do for you? What has this undisciplined yatou done to upset you?” [1)shizi = heir, 2)shao-gongzi = young master, 3)yatou = girlie, referring to a young girl, or a servant girl].

Jin Ling blinked, much confused. Surely, he was the one causing the upset. He certainly wasn’t the one crying.

“Uh....”

“Oh no, you stupid girl, that’s Qin-zhangshi’s yin’er congee and her favourite bowl!” The momo yelled angrily. [zhangshi 长事 - head of staff]

Qin-zhangshi? Oh yes, that was his aunt Qin Su, Jinlintai’s Head of Staff who handled all the internal affairs. This would be the duty of the Lady of Lanling if his uncle A-Yao had had a wife, but he didn’t, hence the burdening of his only sister to rise to the task.

“Zhao-momo, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to -” xiao-Rui squeaked as Zhang-momo pulled her up by the ear. A second later, a loud clap was heard and she cried out in pain. Zhao-momo had slapped her soundly across the cheek, leaving red to bloom where her hand had been.

That jostled Jin Ling out of his trance. “Hey!” He exclaimed, using all the power of his seven-year-old barely-cultivated body to shove the momo out of the way.

After that he barely remembered what he did.

Qin Su was having an exceptionally good day. Jinlintai for once was running like a well-oiled machine, so much so that she felt in the mood to call for a bowl of yin’er congee as a mid-afternoon snack. It was one of her favourite treats...but it was taking a rather longer time than usual to get here.

Before she could ring to see what was the hold up, the door to her study burst open, revealing her seven-year-old nephew, a servant girl he dragged by the hand, and a flustered Zhao-momo, the supervisor of the kitchen staff.

The front of Jin Ling’s robe was ruined by a large patch of food stain - congee from the looks of it. The girl, sobbing, had clearly been struck, and Zhao momo....

Qin Su took one long hard look at the situation and was instantly reminded of what Jin Zixuan had been like at this age. As Qin Cangye’s daughter, she had crossed path with him frequently all her life. She wasn’t quite sure how Meng Yao might’ve behaved at seven, and xiao-Yu had always been too timid for a Jin, but this...this had Zixuan’s bullshit all over it. Though, Qin Su internally rolled her eyes, even without his father, Jin Ling had plenty of bad examples to learn from:

Jiang Cheng, for one, never outgrew awkward, not with the way he still stared at Wen Qing every cultivation conference. At least it was difficult for most people to discern between his deathly stare of murder and his thirsty stare of sexual frustration.

Wei Wuxian and Hanguang-jun, as saccharine and grossly in love as they were now, only learned to communicate after one of them faked their death for a year.

xiao-Yu visited Qinghe every month and stayed for most of it. Qin Su never asked him what he did there, and frankly she didn’t want to know.

As for a-Yao, if Zewu-jun didn’t do more than play his goddamn instruments and talk about philosophy every time he invited A-Yao to Cloud Recesses, Qin Su was afraid her poor brother would soon physically combust.

Thus, with the full fondness of a doting aunt and the exasperation and wisdom of a woman who once almost married her own brother, Qin Su said, “A-Ling, my sweet dear, that is not how you treat a lady, and certainly not how you treat a lady you like.” Jin Ling dropped the girl’s hand like a hot potato. “San-gugu! I don’t - that’s not - I mean - I -” [san-gugu = third auntie] While she left the boy sputtering, Qin Su turned to the older servant. “Zhao-momo, you may return to your duties. You’re an efficient supervisor; I’ve always liked that about you, but if I hear of you hitting another one of the girls again, you and I will have words, am I clear?” “Yes, Qin-zhangshi. Of course, of course.” Zhao-momo backed out the room and fled. Softening her tone, Qin Su waved the girl over. “Come, child, come closer and let me take a look. My, you are pretty one. Now, now no more tears, or you’ll redden those lovely eyes. Oh geez,” she clicked her tongue as she tilted the girl’s face to examine it. “It’s a bit swollen. Luoti,” She looked to her handmaid. “Bring her down to get some ice and ah...some cream. For the inflammation.” “Yes, ma’am. Come on, xiao-Rui.”

“Thank you Qin-zhangshi! Thank you Qin-zhangshi!” Luoti led xiao-Rui away, shutting the door behind them with a click. Jin Ling, shame-faced and embarrassed, stood before his only aunt with his head bowed low. “Gugu...you’re not - you’re not going to tell a-niang on me are you?” His uncle never tattled. If Jin Ling did anything wrong, Uncle A-Yao would give him a stern talking to that would often turn to a long boring lecture. But then after, Uncle A-Yao would simply have a word with his a-die, and his a-die would just give him another Jin-styled talking to and then brush the whole thing under the rug so his a-niang would never find out. (She still does though, more than half the time, like goddamn magic.) Now his gugu, his gugu was the best, the absolute best, and he’s yet to receive any kind of reprimand from her.

Well there’s a first time for everything - as his da-jiujiu would say.

Qin Su rose from her dais, came up to him and lifted his down-turned chin so he could look her. “A-Ling. Are you going to tell me what happened?” “Uhm....” “Hm?” “Will you tell mother? I promised her I would be good.” And I haven’t been.

“Of course I will. She is your mother and deserves to know about your well-being. But, remember this: honesty will grant you forgiveness, but dishonesty will only see to punishment. Your a-niang has always been fair with you and your sister, hasn’t she?”

The boy visibly sagged. “I was bothering xiao-Rui. And I made her drop her tray. The congee spilled everywhere and the bowl broke,” confessed Jin Ling.

“And why did you do that?”

“Because...”

“Because?”

Jin Ling grumbled something incoherent.

Qin Su sighed. Taking his hand, she said, “Let’s get you changed, my love. And then after, you and I will have a long talk. Don’t worry, it’s not one of your Uncle A-Yao’s boring lectures. If you’re good, maybe we can go to town and I’ll let you pick out an apology gift for poor xiao-Rui. How does that sound?”

Jin Ling nodded fervently, his smile wide.

Qin Su chuckled, thinking that while her generation may have been thoroughly fucked over by the circumstances of their youth, there was no need to continue that tradition. Not when the times have been so peaceful. Tonight, she will write to her lovely sister-in-law who will surely have a good laugh over her son’s antics.

#cql #the untamed #qin su #jin ling #jin rulan #peaceful times #btsf #post btsf #corie prompt replies #corie fics #character fic

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