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robininthelabyrinth · 1 year ago

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The Other Mountain - ao3 - Chapter 25

Pairing: Lan Qiren/Wen Ruohan

Warning Tags on Ao3

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The evidence from the Fire Palace came in not long after, confirming Lan Qiren’s deduction.

Wen Ruohan still looked stupefied by the revelation, though he’d lived up to his word and believed Lan Qiren immediately, which was nice. He just hadn’t believed it of Jin Guanshan, Lan Qiren supposed.

That was reasonable enough.

Jin Guangshan might not be especially smart, but he made up for it by having cunning in spades. Lan Qiren could out-argue him nearly every time, particularly on matters of morality, but Jin Guangshan got his own way just as often, whether through schemes and maneuvering or underhanded tricks. He’d been pretty close to Wen Ruohan, too. The Wen sect never made alliances, it was part of their founding principles – the clan over everyone, the clan over the world, Wen Mao at what was either his finest or his worst depending on what commentary you were reading – but Jin Guangshan was good at flattering people, and Wen Ruohan liked to be flattered. He enjoyed not only the reality of being powerful, but the pageantry of it: he liked it when people bowed to him or recited phrases honoring him, he liked it when people thought about him, and he liked it when people praised him, even when they were smarmy sycophants obviously out for their own interests like Jin Guangshan.

(Having now spent a little more time with Wen Chao, Lan Qiren felt that he had a better understanding of Wen Ruohan’s character. Wen Ruohan was smarter, subtler, and far more experienced than his second son, and certainly more ruthless, but Lan Qiren could see that some of the same characteristics were there, writ miniature. Certainly some of the same flaws: Wen arrogance and self-absorption, a prickly competitive pride – though with Wen Chao, unlike his father, not quite enough cleverness and talent to justify it – and of course a tendency towards indolence and laziness, impulsiveness and excitability…not to mention, interestingly enough, a certain degree of gullibility, worsened by their tendency to think themselves above being tricked.

It was a little adorable, actually.

Wen Chao, at least, was young enough that Lan Qiren felt confident he could help ameliorate the worst of his flaws, or at least help him manage them better and with fewer awful tendencies than his father. As for Wen Ruohan…well, it was good for him that Lan Qiren liked him so much. He’d never met a man more in need of a beating. And that included Lao Nie.)

“Why would he be so foolish?” Wen Ruohan asked, not for the first time. He had started pacing – almost as if conjured up by his irritation, Cangse Sanren had appeared, this time with Wei Changze trailing behind her. “No Great Sect directly encroaches on another, not like this. We all refrain because we all know where it would lead…why would he incite war against me?”

“Not just a war, but a war in which you are the aggrieved party,” Wei Changze agreed. He looked worried, probably because of his natal sect’s potential involvement – the Jiang sect were formal allies with the Jin sect, close to the point of having arranged for a future engagement between Jiang Yanli and Jin Guangshan’s son, Jin Zixuan. The engagement had been mediated by their mothers, who had been close as girls, but even Lan Qiren, who did not gossip and tried not to listen to it when it was presented to him, knew the rumors that claimed that Madam Jin had utilized that very connection to help win her current place as mistress of Jinlin Tower. “It does seem rather implausible, not to mention irrational.”

“People act irrationally out of fear,” Cangse Sanren said. She’d perched herself on the stool again, with her knees pulled up in a dreadfully inappropriate manner; Lan Qiren was starting to wonder if she had difficulty getting comfortable unless she was contorting herself. “His conduct being irrational doesn’t necessarily mean that this is a trap.”

“It could be,” Wen Ruohan said.

“Anything could be. In this case, I don’t think it is. Qiren-gege is right: Sect Leader Jin decided to bet on a roll of the dice with Qingheng-jun, siding with him and trying to box Sect Leader Wen into a major loss. He probably figured that two Great Sects acting together were hard to stop, especially since he could bulk up their power by suborning Yunmeng Jiang through their alliance with his sect. And it’s a good point! With three Great Sects you can do a lot!” She shrugged. “But he didn’t realize that Qingheng-jun was insane, so his plan failed.”

“That’s not unreasonable. But it is unreasonable to go from there to ordering an assassination.”

“I suspect that part is likely my fault,” Lan Qiren said heavily. “Jin Guangshan has always been able to rely on his knowledge of people to manipulate them. With Wen Ruohan, he counted on knowing how to calm him down whenever he overstepped, whether through flattery or gifts or otherwise. But now, for the first time, we rejected his attempt to smooth things over…well, I rejected it, and Wen Ruohan endorsed that rejection. That may have spooked him.”

“Spooked him enough to try to kill me?” Wen Ruohan sounded offended, even though he himself had pointed out several times that his temporary vulnerability made it a perfectly reasonable time for someone to try something. “I understand that he had a relatively narrow window of opportunity at present and would need to act swiftly if he wished to take advantage of my impairment, but at the same time, it seems like rather a bold move, particularly for him. Maybe it is a trap.”

“Even if it is a trap, how can we avoid it?” Lan Qiren pointed out. Quite reasonably, to his mind. “I despise war. I would do everything within my power to avoid it where possible, but despite that, even I know that trying to kill another sect’s sect leader can lead nowhere else. If we do not respond in force, it would be tantamount to saying that anyone can try to kill the people in the Nightless City with impunity.”

“How bloodthirsty of you, Qiren.”

“He’s not being bloodthirsty,” Cangse Sanren objected. “He’s being logical.”

“He’s being terrifying,” Wei Changze said bluntly. “He’s not wrong, it makes sense, it’s the way it has to be. But wars aren’t bloodless, and they shouldn’t be started bloodlessly.”

Lan Qiren frowned. He was hardly being cold-hearted, he didn’t think – it really was only logical, and not just because his new sect happened to be the victim. The Wen sect was the most powerful sect in the cultivation world; its behavior set the standard for the rest, for better or for worse. If they didn’t take the strongest possible measures against someone who had ordered an assassination now, it would suggest that such things were acceptable, or at least not too objectionable, and setting such a precedent would be disastrous for the entire cultivation world, not just the Nightless City. Every sect would start thinking about how to target each other.

They had to stamp this out at once. They had to make it so incredibly clear that the consequences of this type of behavior vastly outweighed the benefits, that there would be immediate and overwhelming reprisals, that the only outcome would be utterly cataclysmic. The only way to do that was to go to war.

There was simply no other choice.

What had Jin Guangshan been thinking? It would be one thing if he were in the Wen sect’s position, thinking that he was strong enough to cast off the consequences or maybe even to intimidate whoever he had offended out of demanding justice. But they weren’t a small sect being threatened by a large sect, where they would have to balance accepting an intolerable offense against the risk of their sect being subsequently destroyed. The Wen sect was large and powerful and unlike most sects, it had an army. An army, and a powerful sect leader known for conquest and tyranny. It would never take such an insult lying down.

Jin Guangshan wasn’t strong enough to go against Wen Ruohan’s Wen sect, and surely he knew that. He’d done the equivalent of poking a bear with a stick and running away, expecting the bear to chase.

Under the circumstances, it was pretty obvious that there had to be some sort of trap involved.

Why get a bear to chase you if you didn’t have plans to deal with the bear once you got it to where you wanted it to go? Lan Qiren was perfectly willing to believe that Jin Guangshan was a little stupid, or even more than a little, but he wasn’t that stupid. He must have, or at least must believe that he had, some sort of ace up his sleeve that would enable him to turn the tables against them at the last moment, some final card left to play, something that he plausibly thought would let him triumph over not only a weakened Wen Ruohan, but the entire Wen sect army.

But what could it be?

“– need to look at who we’re dealing with here,” Cangse Sanren was arguing. “Don’t look at the situation as a general rule, what would normal people do and why would they do it. We need to think about why Sect Leader Jin would do what he did. ‘People are different, and different people react differently to the same stimulus.’”

That almost had the sound of a rule.

Actually, now that he thought about it, Lan Qiren thought he might remember having said something similar to Cangse Sanren all way back when they were still adolescents, back when she’d been frustrated by not being able to understand why people acted the way they did. He’d overheard her ranting about it one afternoon and he’d been struck by a sudden sense of kinship. As one person struggling with the same issue to another, he’d offered to share the benefits of his hard-won lessons on social norms. He hadn’t actually expected her to accept, but she had, and he’d spent a number of highly enjoyable afternoons explaining what he’d figured out to her, occasionally even supplementing his explanations with charts and the like. It had been fun.

He hadn’t realized that she remembered.

“I see your point,” Wei Changze said thoughtfully. “Sect Leader Jin is rich and powerful, and he was born rich and powerful. I doubt he’s ever haggled or been desperate for anything in his life. He doesn’t need to take risks, he probably never did before, and now, for the first time in his life…”

“Exactly! He’s exposed. It’s probably the weakest hand he’s ever held. Combine that with pride and egotism, and he decides to double down – ”

“It is still irrational,” Wen Ruohan said with a scowl. “Starting a war with another Great Sect – with my sect – is tantamount to suicide. Jin Guangshan may be foolish, but he is not that foolish. To act so recklessly is unlike him. I think – ”

“Qiren-gege,” Cangse Sanren interrupted, turning to look at Lan Qiren. “Can you call a doctor? I think Sect Leader Wen might be under the influence of some sort of severe fever or mind-altering drug – ”

“What?!”

“Or possession! It could be possession, we haven’t checked – ”

“Cangse Sanren, that is enough,” Lan Qiren said sternly.

She crossed her arms and arched her eyebrows. “Sect Leader Wen is refusing an invitation to go to war? A justified war, that no one will be able to object to? By the laws of the night-hunt, that definitely qualifies as aberrant behavior sufficient to necessitate a check for possession.”

“I am not refusing,” Wen Ruohan snarled. “I am merely – ”

“I think my brother might be involved,” Lan Qiren announced, deciding that the minor breach of etiquette involved in interrupting people and blatantly changing the subject was less egregious than allowing this conversation to continue any further. It wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed that Wen Ruohan was being unusually squirrelly about being handed an opportunity that he would normally salivate over and even scheme wildly to obtain, but he also had enough insight to be able to determine that his hesitation was more than likely due to him still being unnerved by their earlier discussion about Lao Nie rather than any actual anxiety over the notion of going to war.

After all, Lao Nie and Jin Guangshan had ascended to their positions at around the same time. To lose one would be an ominous sign for the other, and Wen Ruohan had already lived past the length of a human lifetime, had already lost every single person he’d known as a young man. He hadn’t yet prepared himself for more loss, more change.

Lan Qiren could sympathize with that.

“I do not mean to be repetitive on the topic of my brother,” he added, when everyone else had stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at him. “I assure you, I am not seeking to lay the blame for all my misfortunes in one place simply for convenience. I genuinely think that my brother may have played a role in what happened.”

“I doubt your brother has access to assassins,” Wen Ruohan said dryly, then smirked. “Unless – ”

“There are no secret assassins in the Lan sect.”

“Hey, Lan Qiren,” Wei Changze said. “Remind me again, what was that really cool skill that Lan Yi invented? Starts with ‘chord,’ ends with…?”

“…Chord Assassination is named that way because of its similarity to other already existing methods of combat, and the fact that at the time using a string to garrote one's enemies was considered the sole province of assassins,” Lan Qiren said, rubbing his temples. “We do not employ actual assassins.”

“But theoretically, if you wanted to – ”

“If I wished to assassinate someone, I would not use Chord Assassination to do it. I have a sword. I would merely stab them.” He scowled at the crowd of grinning monkeys in front of him. “As I very recently demonstrated, if you recall. Can we return to the subject at hand?”

“Right, your brother,” Wen Ruohan said. He was still smirking, but Lan Qiren was willing to give him a pass on account of smirking being better than the tight and angry expression he’d had earlier. “Explain your thought process. How is he involved?”

“He was always exceptionally talented, and he continued to improve both his cultivation and his swordsmanship during his time in seclusion,” Lan Qiren explained. “Having faced him, I would rank him exceedingly high, putting him among the greatest cultivators of our time, up there at the top alongside Wen Ruohan and Lao Nie.”

“From what I hear, you’re not that bad yourself,” Cangse Sanren put in, rather unhelpfully. “Especially once you factor in the element of surprise.”

“He’s magnificent,” Wen Ruohan informed her. Also unhelpfully.

Lan Qiren decided to ignore them.

“We know that my brother has not returned to the Lan sect,” he said. “We know, too, that he must have worked with Jin Guangshan to put together the plot that led to the mountain collapse in Xixiang, though presumably Jin Guangshan was only informed about the parts of the plan that involved causing Wen Ruohan to take a loss, rather than the parts that involved mass slaughter of innocent lives.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Wei Changze mumbled. “I’ve met him. He might not mind.”

Lan Qiren was also not particularly sure, having also met Jin Guangshan, and indeed having had to spend significantly more time around the odious lecher than he would have preferred. Still, the rules said Be easy on others.

“However it may be, we know that they worked together. It was likely one of the Lanling Jin sect’s spies that was used to set up the plot, and Lanling Jin’s support was critical to springing the trap by convincing the rest of the world of the truth of their claims – in short, for whatever reason, however he did it, my brother successfully obtained Jin Guangshan’s support. I propose that when my brother left Xixiang, he may have gone to ground in Jinlin Tower.”

“Jin Guangshan also left the battlefield early, around the same time that your brother disappeared,” Wen Ruohan said, nodding. “His absence was commented on at some length at the party. Wasn’t that why he was handing out those stupid trinkets? To distract everyone from that?”

“Trinkets?” Cangse Sanren perked up, resembling a magpie catching a hint of something shiny. “What trinkets?”

“Commemorative coins to celebrate the event.” Wen Ruohan wrinkled his nose in genuine disgust. It was adorable, though possibly Lan Qiren was biased. “I had my subordinates pick up a few extras, if you’d like some.”

“Ugh, no thanks. They’re probably unbelievably gaudy.”

“They are. They’re also made of gold.”

“We’ll take two,” Wei Changze put in at once. “Cangse, stop scowling. Even if they’re hideously ugly, it’s not like we’ll keep them for very long. We’ll sell them the next time we run out of cash.”

“Oh, all right…”

Lan Qiren pointedly cleared his throat.

“I believe I see where Qiren is going with this,” Wen Ruohan said, returning to the subject with the speed of a man who knew Lan Qiren’s temper. “If Qingheng-jun has gone to ground in Lanling, that may be what Jin Guangshan is counting on to defeat any attack that we throw at him…though that still seems unreasonably foolish to me. There is a limit to what one man alone can do.”

“That was the previous wisdom,” Lan Qiren said. “You just demonstrated that it might not be the case.”

Wen Ruohan looked pleased.

“So you think your brother, what, told Jin Guangshan that he could do something similar to what Sect Leader Wen did at Xixiang?” Cangse Sanren looked thoughtful. “And Jin Guangshan believed him, so he thinks that even if we attack Jinlin Tower, he’ll be able to fight back, or at least cause enough damage to the Wen side to make a siege not worth continuing. Not the worst plan, I guess.”

“No, but it is also not an especially good one,” Lan Qiren conceded. “But I think you had it right earlier in your analysis of Jin Guangshan: he placed his bet on my brother, and now that the risk has gotten greater and the stakes higher, he has chosen to double down on that bet.”

“Hold a moment,” Wei Changze said. “That was a gambling metaphor. Lan Qiren, you know how to gamble?”

Lan Qiren threw the nearest thing to hand at his head.

He expected Wei Changze to dodge, the way anyone else who knew him well would have, but apparently he’d managed to take him by surprise – he hit him dead on, the paperweight hitting his head and bouncing off.

“Owwww…” Wei Changze whined with theatrical pitifulness to his wife, who was sniggering unmercifully at his expense. “Cangse, don’t laugh! Your husband is injured…”

“I have a better question for everyone to consider,” Cangse Sanren said, eventually yielding enough to press a kiss to her husband’s definitely-not-actually-bruised temple. “What is Qingheng-jun getting out of this arrangement? Jin Guangshan gets a powerful weapon, but what does Qingheng-jun get? What is even his goal, now that his plan has failed?”

That was a good question. Lan Qiren had been wracking his brain for answers, but short of “trying to kill me” – which would involve explaining why his brother hated him enough to consider breaching the taboo against murdering one’s kin – he couldn’t think of anything. What could his brother’s motive possibly be? Why wouldn’t he go back to the Lan sect? What in the world could he still want, after having lost his schemes for power, lost face, and lost even his chance for revenge…?

“He wants to kill everyone, of course.”

Now everyone turned to stare at Wen Ruohan, who shrugged.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked. “It’s certainly how I would feel under the circumstances.”

“…please explain,” Lan Qiren said, still staring. “What do you mean, ‘kill everyone’?”

“I mean exactly that. If you put me in a situation where, to my perception, the whole world has seen my disgrace, I would naturally want to raze it all to the ground to cover it up.”

“That’s not natural,” Cangse Sanren announced. “That’s definitely not what most people would think…uh, right, Qiren?”

“Certainly not,” Lan Qiren assured her.

“It seems natural to me. Perhaps it is the assumption of rulers…?”

“You’re so full of yourself. Why are you like this?”

“It seems like a fairly wild assumption to me,” Lan Qiren said, turning back to Wen Ruohan before he could answer the question. He suspected that Wen Ruohan’s answer, whatever it would be, would be annoying enough to kick off a fight, and they should not waste time nor energy on that. No matter how tempting it might be. “That my brother would so swiftly go from wanting to damage the Lan sect but not kill it, to wanting to kill not just them but far more people…when you say ‘everyone,’ do you really mean the entire cultivation world? How would he even do something like that?”

“Oh, I know! Poison the water – I’ll be quiet now, Qiren-gege, please don’t throw anything at me.”

Wei Changze politely cleared his throat, possibly in an effort to save his wife from Lan Qiren’s wrath. “Is there perhaps some other goal that he could be seeking to pursue at this stage?”

“I can’t think of anything,” Wen Ruohan said.

Cangse Sanren thought for a moment, then shrugged in agreement.

Lan Qiren…was going to have to mention it.

“He may want to kill me,” he confessed, and winced at the expressions of alarm on both Wen Ruohan and Cangse Sanren’s faces. “To remind you: I am here, I am fine, there is no cause to worry.”

“He’s your brother. He wanted to kill you?” Wen Ruohan was scowling. “He tried to kill you?”

“I think you should have mentioned that earlier,” Cangse Sanren said, with a shockingly identical look on her face. “Say, preferably before you went to a party where someone else tried to kill you…?”

“I do not think that was related,” Lan Qiren protested. “It is my belief that the assassins wanted to kill me to avoid me taking over the Wen sect in the event that their attempt to kill Wen Ruohan was successful.”

They were still glaring at him.

“Why does he want to kill you?” Wei Changze asked, in what would have been a helpful breath of fresh air and logic except for the fact that Lan Qiren dearly did not want to answer that question.

(He’d moved from being embarrassed to being angry about it. How dare his brother question his integrity like that? How dare he question He Kexin like that? Wasn’t it enough that he’d forced her to marry him, that she’d borne his children despite being in seclusion…? How could he have thrown away ten years just like that, without a moment of regret…? Even Wen Ruohan had regretted ordering Lan Qiren to the Fire Palace almost immediately, and they’d only been married for the equivalent of a blink of the eye!)

“Yes, that’s a good question,” Wen Ruohan said. “I knew he hated you and would gladly see you dead, but most people would not violate the taboo of killing one’s own blood-related kin with their own hands. What could compel him to go to such extremes?”

“I…that is, he…” Lan Qiren was stuttering. He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply. Be strict with yourself. Stop bad habits. Do not tell lies. “He thinks that I seduced his wife.”

“He what?!” all three of them shouted.

Lan Qiren grimaced at the loudness. He hated to even repeat the slander, though in truth he felt a certain amount of relief at having shared the information with them, freeing himself of a burdensome secret. As always, the rules were right, and following them the correct path.

“Not just that,” he said with a huff that encompassed all of the complaints that had been weighing him down. “If that were not ridiculous enough – as if He Kexin and I did not barely tolerate each other! – he continuously accuses me of seeking to subvert him through violations of the rules against promiscuity and debauchery. His relationship with his wife, his alliance with Wen Ruohan… I do not know why he is so fixated on the subject, but he is.”

Cangse Sanren suddenly laughed.

Lan Qiren turned to look at her, feeling betrayed. What was funny about what he’d said?

“I’m sorry,” she sniggered, her laughter getting more out of control rather than less. “I’m sorry, are you saying that your brother thinks you’re some sort of – seductive vixen?”

“…I did not say that.”

“But you meant it! That’s what you meant!”

Lan Qiren thought back over his brother’s accusations. “Well. I mean, I suppose – ”

Wen Ruohan started laughing as well.

Lan Qiren tried to glare at him, but it was impossible, not with Wen Ruohan looking as overwhelmingly gleeful as he did. Even Wei Changze had hidden away his face in his sleeves, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Cangse Sanren was nearly in tears.

“You!” she kept chortling. “You! Lan Qiren! Harlot and seductress, a nation-destroying fox-face beauty…you. With – ”

She hiccupped.

“With – with your slutty, slutty thousands of rules…”

Wei Changze fell off his chair, now completely covering his head with his sleeves. Wen Ruohan was by now bent over at the waist, the volume of his mirth reaching that typically associated with chittering baboons – in fact, it was possible he was crying with laughter as well.

Admittedly, even Lan Qiren could see the humor of it.

“Please do not refer to the rules that way,” he still said with a faint sigh. The laughter seemed to be doing them all some good. “You may continue to poke fun, but please limit your pejorative comments to me.”

Tragically, all three of them were more than willing to abide by that restriction, and insisted on continuing in the same vein for some time. It turned out that they all had several additional and very colorful suggestions that they felt the need to express before they were willing to change subjects. Or, well, Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren produced the majority, while after a few contributions Wen Ruohan primarily spent his time looking at Lan Qiren with a hungry expression that suggested that he had a new idea for what they could do later when they were alone.

Possibly something involving a nation-destroying fox and an indulgent emperor.

After a suitable interval, once the giggles seemed to have mostly passed, Lan Qiren cleared his throat pointedly.

“Can we focus?” he asked. “Need I remind you all that we must now prepare for a war? I cannot imagine that such an endeavor will be an easy one.”

“Easier than you might think,” Wen Ruohan said. He was still smirking lazily, but the tension from earlier had completely disappeared – now he looked the way Lan Qiren would have expected, full of anticipation and ambition, eager for an opportunity to expand his sect’s power at the expense of others. “I gave all the necessary orders to mobilize the army already to deal with the situation in Xixiang, and no one has ordered them to stand down. On the contrary, I suspect my generals have been putting them through their paces in an effort to demonstrate their competence to me – it will take no time at all to get them ready to march.”

“They’re all eager for a fight,” Cangse Sanren agreed. “Or at least to go out and show off.”

“War isn’t about showing off,” Wei Changze reminded her, but she only shrugged carelessly.

“What actually needs to be done to prepare?” she asked Wen Ruohan. “I’ve never seen a war before…Ooh, will there be siege weapons involved? Can we take some?”

Wen Ruohan snorted and took up his brush. “I’ll put together the orders, and you can take them to my generals. We will depart in the morning. I will include that you have my permission to examine the armory – ”

“Yes!”

“– but you will need to clear anything you wish to use with me before you remove it.”

“Spoilsport.” She smirked. “You know me so well by now. Don’t you trust me?”

“Not with siege weaponry.”

“I don’t trust you with siege weaponry, and it’s because I know you,” Wei Changze put in, looking alarmed. “Cangse – ”

“Beloved husband of mine – love of my life – ”

“You do not need siege weaponry!”

“But my love, sometimes women want something really big and really, really destructive…”

Wen Ruohan finished what he was writing and held up the page. “Take this and get lost. I have something to show Qiren, and I do not require your company for that.”

“I bet you don’t,” she giggled. “Be careful, Sect Leader Wen, you never know what a sexy beast like our Qiren might do – ”

“Never say that again,” Lan Qiren said firmly. “Ever. Under any circumstances.”

“I do have to ask, Senior Lan,” Wei Changze said. “Has your brother ever…met you?”

Lan Qiren reached out and picked up the inkstone from the table.

Wei Changze fled the room laughing, hand-in-hand with his wife.

“You know, I’d been planning to find a reason to repurpose the Fire Palace,” Wen Ruohan remarked. “But it hasn’t been repurposed yet. There’s still an opportunity…”

Lan Qiren snorted and put the inkstone back. “That is unnecessary. Is what you want to show me the gift you mentioned earlier? The painting?”

“It is. I do not know if it will be to your taste, but I wish to present it to you nonetheless.” Wen Ruohan rose to his feet, gesturing for Lan Qiren to join him, then paused. “Do not ask me to explain the meaning behind it.”

Lan Qiren nodded, accepting the limitation, and followed him. He was immensely curious. Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji had told him about their conversation with Wen Ruohan on the flight from Xixiang to the Nightless City, and that had been funny enough – Lan Qiren had privately enjoyed the thought of Wen Ruohan interrogating two children as to the best method of apologizing to him – but he had been particularly captivated by their mention of Wen Ruohan’s claim of being an accomplished painter.

Wen Ruohan was notoriously vain. If he was an accomplished painter, shouldn’t his own paintings be everywhere in the Nightless City, given place of honor? Since they weren’t, what was the reason?

He’d even taken a little time to ask around with the record-keepers of the Nightless City, discovering to his surprise that Wen Ruohan had once been more famous as a painter than a tyrant or even a warrior, back when he was only a young master and one son among many. Only…he had also been assured that Wen Ruohan had given up the habit of painting long ago, so long ago that few people could remember it.

Lan Qiren wondered what it meant, that he’d picked up his brush for Lan Qiren’s sake now. Or even if it meant anything at all – perhaps it was just a whim, just a mindless impulse that was, as he himself warned, not susceptible to questions about his intent…

“Oh,” Lan Qiren murmured, stopping just inside the threshold of the secondary study. Wen Ruohan had just stepped aside, letting him see the painting.

It was – beautiful.

Wen Ruohan painted the way he wrote, bold and fearless, arrogance and self-assurance in every stroke. The painting was a masterpiece of the cultivator’s art, seething with deeper meaning: he’d captured both image and spiritual energy, the overwhelming feeling of the image pouring out at the viewer. The trees towered over the ruined earth, the blood and the ash, the remnants of war – devastating and grim, gloomy, despair tasting like soot on the tongue –

“I don’t explain my paintings,” Wen Ruohan said.

“I do not require an explanation,” Lan Qiren said, stepping forward and looking it over more closely: had Wen Ruohan really completed this in a single evening? No wonder it had taken him into the next day. It was exquisitely detailed, sparse lines coming together to suggest deeper meaning, adding additional complexity to the image. “It makes perfect sense to me. It is beautiful. Thank you.”

Wen Ruohan stepped up behind him. “I’m pleased that you like it.”

He put his hands on Lan Qiren’s waist. His breath was hot on Lan Qiren’s ear.

“Tell me, do you know what this scene depicts?”

A war scene, Lan Qiren wanted to say, but something stilled his tongue. There was something in there, something more than just a war. There was devastation, yes, the remnants left behind by a battle, grotesque in its intrinsic cruelty, the shadows all that was left of those that passed through and left this in their wake, but there was something else here. Something almost familiar…

“Obliteration,” he said, and that felt right. “A broken heart.”

Wen Ruohan’s hands tightened around him.

Lan Qiren tilted his head to the side a little, not looking away from the painting. “Is this my sect?” he asked. “My Gusu Lan…did we do this?”

“Mm. Your sect, and mine. There was a war between our sects when I was young.”

Lan Qiren traced the lines of the painting with his eyes. The way the trees loomed, tall and almost misshapen…he calculated the time in his head. The Lan sect records mentioned a war from over a century ago, though details were sparse. Perhaps deliberately: that war was not considered a point of pride for their sect, even though it had been instrumental in settling the borders of their territory where they presently lay. On the contrary, it had always been referred to with some censure, seen as an overreaction, though no one had ever mentioned what exactly the sect leader of that time had been reacting to.

If he had the dates correct, Wen Ruohan would have been very young indeed.

“Thank you,” he said once more, unable to say anything more than that. His chest felt full of feelings, which he could not bring himself to express aloud. One day, perhaps, his eloquence would return, and he would be able to put the feelings into words – or perhaps he would do what Lan Wangji suggested in the essay he had composed in response to Wen Ruohan’s request, and put to music the feelings that Wen Ruohan, who was not gifted in composition, could not.

Obliteration.

Obsession.

Perhaps other people would not appreciate such a gift. It was a war scene, after all, and they were about to march to war themselves – such a thing could have been a mockery, disdaining the sacrifice and destruction that awaited them, the pain that accompanied all wars. What sort of gift was this for a lover? One did not often associate war with love…

Well, perhaps other sects did not. But Gusu Lan did.

A broken-hearted Lan on the path of just revenge will not rest until they have obliterated the cause of their grief. Complete destruction, without mercy or regret. Whether external or internal, whether the target is another or themselves…such grief demands an answer, and Gusu Lan will answer.

If you have been consumed by love, if you are mad with it, then I am mad alongside you.

My feelings are just as strong as yours.

I will be your partner, as you have been to me. I will match you in this as I will in anything else.

Believe me.

Lan Qiren smiled.

Yes, he would need to finish composing that song for Wen Ruohan one of these days. He thought he might even know how it went, now, the difficulty he’d been previously having with it melting away in the heat of the inspiration. The heat of the sun, perhaps – it seemed apposite.

He thought Wen Ruohan would like it.

Wen Ruohan chuckled, resting his chin on Lan Qiren’s shoulder. “I assume I should resign myself to a lonely night of listening to you at your guqin? I know what inspiration looks like.”

“It will not be lonely,” Lan Qiren said peaceably. “I will be there.”

“All for the best, I suppose. I do have a war to prepare for – if I were to spend all evening in bed, I really would be letting myself get distracted by a nation-destroying fox.”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes and shook Wen Ruohan off. Where was his guqin? Back in the other room, right. He should make his way there at once…

The daze of inspiration did not lift by evening, when he went to sleep, and it continued throughout the morning. It even continued past the point when the army set out – Lan Qiren merely relocated himself from the bedroom to the carriage and carried on, slowly refining the song he was putting together.

By the time he actually managed to extract himself long enough to notice where they were and what was going on, they were already well on their way to Lanling.

He could hear the army singing as they went. Not musical cultivation, since the Wen sect didn’t do that, but rather just an ordinary person’s travel song, one of the ones from Qishan. It was surprisingly euphonious to hear them all together like that, even though Lan Qiren could tell that most of the people singing had never had any sort of training and many didn’t know how to hold a tune.

He shook off the lethargy of a particularly long period of creative activity, stretched out his aching hands, and got out of the carriage, intending to explore. He was quite curious.

Lan Qiren had not had much opportunity to date to interact with the Wen sect army.

The entire concept of a professional army of cultivators was an innovation of Wen Ruohan’s own making. Most sects did not have anything of the sort. When they went to war, they took only their sect disciples, armed with whatever sect treasures they happened to have, and it boiled down to being a battle of power and talent. Even the Great Sects, which went to war on a larger scale, had to rely both on their larger selection of outside disciples and on the subsidiary sects that swore loyalty to them to make up the numbers.

Wen Ruohan had not been satisfied with that. Contrary to the approach of most sects, which fiercely guarded their cultivation styles and resisted spreading them to others, the Wen sect had taken its cultivation style and broken it down to its barest essentials, until it was barely more than rudimentary, and then they’d taught it to all the recruits that joined their army. The truly talented were accepted as proper sect disciples, becoming outside disciples just as with all the other sects, but those that were less talented, the ones that other sects would have rejected outright, were offered the chance to learn cultivation in exchange for their service. For many, it was the only opportunity they would have to learn cultivation in their lifetime – many of them were people born in ordinary families, without cultivator ancestry or lineage, and they happily traded their loyalty for the chance.

No, to call it mere loyalty would be to understate it. Wen Ruohan’s army was fanatically devoted to him.

And why wouldn’t they be? Their families back home were able to boast to all and sundry that they had a cultivator in the family, an immortal who could touch the clouds, and borrowed their glory to better their own fates, while their hometowns grew bold and unafraid, each one feeling that they had a resource they could rely on for when evil spirits emerged from the dark. The common people were proud of their cultivators, prouder than most, and Lan Qiren couldn’t blame them one bit.

As for the soldiers themselves, however poor their personal cultivation might be – many of them could not even fly a sword – they still found themselves with a career, salary enough to let them marry a wife if they chose, as well as a home, a place to belong. Those of them that were talented were given resources that they could not find anywhere else. Cultivation was a rich man’s province. To progress in cultivation, one required both money and leisure: sufficient time to spend in meditation, contemplation, and art, whether the sword or an instrument, and also access to spiritual jade and other tools, a place with appropriate spiritual energy…the Wen sect, with all its power and wealth, was able to hand such things out more liberally than most sects could ever dream. There was a reason that many sects voluntarily came under the Wen sect’s banner, and why even those that hadn’t joined voluntarily often found that they had trouble extracting themselves later.

The Wen sect’s soldiers even had the glimmer of hope that they could one day exceed their relatively lowly station, demonstrate their worth through their talent, maybe becoming one of the Wen sect’s outer disciples – or even higher than that. The Wen sect was rather famously one of the few that voluntarily shared its surname, adopting in the best of the best so that their brilliance could shine light onto their clan’s glory. Lan Qiren had no doubt that the dangling prize of that goal was a feature of many of the surrounding soldiers’ dreams.

The end result of it all was an army whose numbers dwarfed the rest of the cultivation world.

Sure, any solid sect disciple, and certainly one from any Great Sect, could easily match themselves against three or four Wen sect soldiers, and a talented one would be able to defeat still more than that. But battles weren’t merely cultivation against cultivation, not when there were such numbers, not when the Wen sect army could bring to bear treasures and siege weapons and formations that utilized numbers as their basis. It didn’t matter if a talented cultivator could defeat ten Wen sect soldiers if they were up against a hundred.

The army must have been such a scandal when it was first proposed, Lan Qiren mused to himself. But who knew how long ago that had been? By now, no one objected on the basis of it violating orthodoxy. It was just accepted as being part of what the Wen sect did…

He wandered through the army, nodding at the Wen sect disciples who served as lieutenants as he passed – they saluted him in return, though they did not stop marching. He could not quite determine the way the army was organized, though he could see that there was some sort of division, with various smaller groups each being distinguished by the presence of a flag: either the one with the Wen sect name, white with red calligraphy, or else the symbol of the sun.

He had never noticed it before, actually, but the army’s emblem was black with a golden sun, a contrast to the white-and-red that was the Wen sect’s emblem in peacetime. He wondered if that was Wen Ruohan making a private joke to himself: that mysterious black sun that was the greatest weapon of his cultivation power, and the black sun of his army that was the foundation of his political power, too.

Probably. It seemed like him.

Lan Qiren wondered if Wen Ruohan expected him to accept some of these soldiers into his classes as well. Many of them were already adults, but surely they had children that they wanted to educate, and for those that came from common families, without a cultivation background, it was possible that even the adults would benefit from a solid foundation in orthodoxy.

He certainly wouldn’t mind if that was the case. He had started his classes by inviting second and third sons, branch members and cousins, all the troublemakers that other sects grew impatient with. It was only later, once he’d gotten a reputation as a teacher, that people had started sending him their talents, their geniuses and their heirs. It wasn’t unheard of for him to accept a particularly promising disciple even if they lacked a sect’s surname – he’d even agreed to take on servants as students a few times, though his sect elders had always given him an earful whenever he’d done so, looking down their noses and citing Avoid imparting knowledge to the wrong individuals with a disdainful sniff.

Not that he especially cared about what the Gusu Lan sect leaders thought right now. Especially ones like Lan Zhengquan, who had been one of the harshest critics of Lan Qiren’s classes. What a joke that turned out to be now! He’d always been unreasonably concerned that Lan Qiren was letting slip some of Gusu Lan’s secrets, rather than just helping people understand their rules and establish the moral basis they would need, helping them find ways to improve themselves as they went down their own cultivation paths.

Judging others by his own standard, Lan Qiren supposed. The hypocrisy was truly vile.

He’d have to find time to go to the Lan sect to confront them, and soon. Even though it had been ten years since the injustice that they had perpetrated, now that Lan Qiren knew about it, impatience bubbled under his skin – he wanted to go at once, wanted to fix it at once. He wanted to excise the tumor of that crime from his sect’s heart, wanted to cut out the rot and purify the whole thing, to remake the sect back into its original intended image.

He wanted Gusu Lan to be everything that it should be. His nephews deserved that.

Whether he would be able to achieve his aims, he did not know. But he felt compelled to try.

Eventually, Lan Qiren’s wandering took him to where Wen Ruohan was conversing with his generals, all of them sitting or standing around a map in a moving pavilion drawn by horses. He paused briefly before greeting them, enjoying the sight of Wen Ruohan in his element: he looked alive, spirited and enthusiastic, even as he lounged back indolently in the seat that was very nearly a throne and waved his hands as he spoke, smirking as he dismissed some idea or another.

After another moment, Wen Ruohan noticed him, and his smirk widened momentarily into a genuine smile as he waved for Lan Qiren to join him.

Lan Qiren climbed up onto the pavilion.

“We’re discussing strategy for dealing with Lanling Jin,” Wen Ruohab said, not bothering with a greeting – or indeed with any questions or teasing about the fact that Lan Qiren had just spent several days in non-stop composing. Presumably he understood the impulse. “It is complicated by the fact that Jinlin Tower is based in an urban environment, surrounded by Lanling City.”

Lan Qiren nodded. That was one of the unique features of Lanling Jin – the Cloud Recesses were nestled among the valleys between the mountains, while the Unclean Realm was built into the very side of their own mountains, both of them isolated from the nearest towns, and while the Lotus Pier was situated near a large trading town, both on the same river, it was not part of it. The only one that was remotely comparable to the urban nature of the Jin sect was the Nightless City, but even that was different: the Nightless City was a city, yes, but the entire place was under Wen Ruohan’s personal management as sect leader, with even the ordinary people belonging to the Wen sect in some way. Lanling City, in contrast, was full of ordinary people who might pay tax to Lanling Jin, but who were otherwise completely uninvolved with them: ordinary merchants, tradesmen, artisans, scholars…

It went without saying that if they simply ignored the existence of the city and attacked anyway, there would be tremendous loss of life. Ordinary people were no match for cultivators, and Lan Qiren couldn’t even imagine what they would do in the face of siege weaponry: large scale treasures with effects that stretched out well into the distance around them, formations that could bring down entire forests and shake mountains, and all of that not even bringing into consideration the sort of specialist arrays a master like Wen Ruohan could put together. It would be a disaster.

A disaster Wen Ruohan was currently trying to avoid.

(Lan Qiren did not flatter himself into thinking he was the only or even primary reason for that. Wen Ruohan was a canny politician, well aware of the importance of saving face in public – he would never go around blatantly slaughtering common people left and right, as that would risk drawing the ire of the entire cultivation world. Certainly he would not do so when it was easier to take precautions, and in so doing win admiration and praise for his restraint. But whatever the cause, it was nice to know that Lan Qiren’s lover was not, in fact, a bloodthirsty madman with no sense of conscience or self-control, as he sometimes treated himself in his worst moments.)

“What is your plan?” he asked.

“It depends on the circumstances when we get there, which won’t be long now – we’ll get there by this afternoon. You can already see the lights of Lanling in the distance from here if you fly up a little, and in another shichen you won’t even need to do that.” Wen Ruohan tapped the map with a sharp fingernail, indicating where they were. “If they took my words to heart and set up their shields, we will have no choice but to set ourselves around them. We can take measures to evacuate the city back by some distance, creating a buffer zone in which we will operate. However, we are hoping that they haven’t raised the shields at all – that they are still hoping for some end that involves negotiation rather than fighting. If that’s the case, we will send a delegation inside to confront them.”

“How will that help?”

Wen Ruohan’s smirk was vicious. “Once we have people inside their shield perimeter, everything gets a great deal easier.”

Lan Qiren frowned, disapproving – No dishonest practices, no concealing sharp weapons – but ultimately he decided not to object. The Wen sect was well known for their treachery and disregard for convention. If Jin Guangshan invited them into his city despite knowing that, it could barely even be called a dishonest practice.

Wen Ruohan was watching him, and his smirk broadened triumphantly when Lan Qiren refrained from speaking. He’d probably been betting with himself as to whether he would or not, and was very happy to have been proven right.

(If he mistakenly thought that Lan Qiren had set aside the concern entirely, he was going to be very disappointed in the future. What Lan Qiren considered to be appropriate under the present circumstances, when Jin Guangshan had literally tried to murder them both and scapegoat his own allied sect as the perpetrator, was most certainly not what he would be willing to allow for in other situations.)

“What is your plan for what happens after that?” Lan Qiren asked, deciding to move on.

Wen Ruohan waved at one of the generals, who stepped forward and began to explain.

The army rolled inexorably forward.

It was late afternoon by the time they arrived. By that time, the forward parts of the army had already settled into their pre-arranged places outside the city gates, setting up siege formations – the gates themselves were full of civilians from Lanling City, peering anxiously down at them.

Lan Qiren was pleased, if somewhat conflicted, to see that Jinlin Tower had not activated its shields.

That presumably meant that they really were planning to try to negotiate, rather than simply start fighting right away – a remarkably foolish move on Jin Guangshan’s part. This entire sequence of events had been one misstep after another for him. He should never have gone up against Wen Ruohan.

Or Lan Qiren, for that matter.

(If Lan Qiren ever managed to find that Wang Liu that Wen Ruohan had spoken of, the spy that had deliberately incited all of Wen Ruohan’s worst insecurities and set Lan Qiren up for the Fire Palace…!)

“Not long now,” Wen Ruohan observed. He looked smug and satisfied, as well he should. It didn’t really matter if his personal cultivation was temporarily weakened, not when he had his army there to wield.

“No,” Lan Qiren agreed, unable to refrain from a faint sigh. If only they could avoid going to war at all...! “Not long now. Will we send a messenger first, or shall we await them?”

“An excellent question. I expect they will try to make us wait…” Wen Ruohan’s voice trailed off, his eyebrows arching slightly with surprise as a lone cultivator flew out of Lanling City, clearly heading their way. “Or perhaps not. That seems rather impatient of them.”

Lan Qiren privately agreed. Putting aside everything else, displaying that level of eagerness for a conversation did not speak well for Lanling Jin’s negotiation skills – showing desperation was a rookie mistake, and not one Lanling Jin would normally commit. It struck him as odd.

He said as much to Wen Ruohan, who frowned and agreed.

Perhaps for that reason, he told his general “Send the messenger in as soon as he arrives,” when normally Lan Qiren knew that he’d likely make the messenger wait outside as a demonstration of power.

Not long later, the messenger appeared. He was a middle-aged cultivator, clearly of relatively high rank in Lanling Jin, wearing Sparks Amidst Snow – meaning that this was a Jin of the main family, no less. That was an interesting choice for a negotiator; it suggested a considerable degree of respect, above and beyond the sort normally afforded to enemies.

“Sect Leader Wen,” he said, saluting respectfully, and then, in a move that surprised Lan Qiren, saluted Lan Qiren as well. “Senior Lan. Thank you both for granting me an audience. I have a message for you from Lanling Jin.”

“Oh?” Wen Ruohan drawled. “And what does Jin Guangshan have to say for himself?”

“Nothing,” the man said grimly. “You see, Sect Leader Jin is dead.”

#mdzs #wen ruohan #lan qiren #cangse sanren #wei changze #my fic #my fics #Megafic

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