#Ning-ge's Little Kitchen

[greenflamedwriter]

I'm the protagonist, bitch!

What if SY transmigrated as Luo Binghe and had to go through the main trials and abuse under the scum villain Shen Qingqiu?

And in typical SY fashion, ends up deluding himself and no longer cares what Sqq is doing? Since Luo Binghe knows he's going to go into literal hell everything sqq does seem tame in comparison? He starts thinking "If being whipped is making me cry...how will I be when I lose a limb in the abyss!?"

Then he starts seeing this as inpromptu training, he gives SQQ the peerless cucumber roast of a lifetime JUST to get more punishment! He has to get stronger!

And of course in true Scum villain fashion, SQQ backs off and starts treating LBH as a disciple and just ignores him.

This is grossley unfair!

Shen Yuan AS Luo Binghe.

 So SY transmigrates as Luo Binghe and already doesnt feel comfortable as a grown ass man taking wives who were mostly Binghes age with the occasional milf thrown in there. So he decides fuck it, he’ll get stronger deal with he abyss when he gets to it and at first wanted revenge on SQQ then decided it was too much hassle. He just wanted to be left alone. But the scum villain keeps bothering him, and actually seems to like him- why? What changed!? The hell!?

-SY transmigrates as Luo Binghe.

Has the horror that as the protagonist his lufe is a living hell, continous tortourous chores, being whipped and beaten for the tiniest offense how will a millenial survive!

[Welcome Host you can you up! As the protagonist you are the workds child and no lasting harm will befall you-]

“Yeah but I’ll still be harmed.”

[An over powered protagnosit at the start if his journey is too unrealistic.

 Tasks for hosts are;

Create a harem.

Fall into the endless abyss.

Take revenge on Shen Qingqiu.

Merge the realms!]

“I dont want to do any if that!”

[System has heard users complaints and sees that Host will only do one scenario!]

Oh thank god

[System has taken the liberty of choosing the task- endless abyss arc!]

You fuck!

-SY stole a manual. If he wanted to survive the abyss he had to be stronger. Having an unstable core will do him no favours…

So far he was able to keep his head down but realised something. When he first transmigrated the first thing that happened he was beaten. And it hurt.

Then he was whipped and it hurt but…

Luo Binghe was going into the abyss- even with his demon blood awakened he would face a ton of horrors and so much pain his own arm ripped of.

“A-lou? You look pale,” His shiejie spoke placing a hand over his head.

 If he wanted to survive he would have to build up his pain tolerence…

Steadying his rabid heartbeat Luo Binghe smiled.

“This one is fine.”

He purposfully acts out, and tried not to cry- it was just intimidating okay! That he was being whipped while his Shizun supervised-

Did Shen Qjngqiu really have to sit there and watch the sadistic fuck!

Even so, he built himself up stronger.

He accidently proposed to Ming fan that he had no intention of seeing Ning Yinying that way as she was like a sister.

But seeing a man bully someone they percoeved as their little brother how would you react? If Ming Fan acted kind to Binghe he could also hang oht with Ning Yingying.

 “You can have one on one time with Ning Yingying, she’ll be happy that we’re getting along.”

“You just want me to help with your chores-“

“Of course not. This one will do extra and Ning Yingying likes to talk or gets bored easily you can stop and play with her instead.”

And just like that he matchmaked the two, and had all the wood chopping to himself.

It was frustrating coming from a modern eorld you’d think he knew hie to get stronger.

But that was all er-ge. He knew the difference between working out and only looking like a model but was weak and unfit. Meanwhile people who gained weight and looked bigger were often stronger.

Even so, Luo Binghe used the kitchens to his advantage while eating he would study and in his own time would train even dyring the night.

 And if he felt tired he would purposfully sleep in during his Shizuns lessons.

Extra points for snowing loudly.

Of course he rejoiced in the day he no longer felt pain on his back. He even told Shen Qingqiu himself that what point was the punishment if he now felt nothing?

So now he had to sit on pins, hanging off the mountain and not fall to his death because his arms got tired.

 Even so it’d make him stronger.

“Ah binghe can you take this to Peak Lord Shen?”

He blinked then stared at the food. 

And he suddenly had a wicked idea.

He may not want revenge kn his scumbag shizun, even though he deserved it. Lucky for him he was so lazy!

 But this would be the most sweetest revenge.

He decided to take the food up for Shen Qingqiu passing it to Mong Fan.

 “What are you doing with Shizuns food?”

“I was already in the kitchen, while the cooks told me to bring it.”

Ming Fan looked suspicious and Luo Binghe held the urge to roll his eyes.

“You can taste test it if you eant although, Shizun wont be pleased by the delay.”

To be fair, Shizun never ate. He never slept either. The only time he oerked was when he went doen the mountain. He sure had an addiction.

Luo Binghe almost said nothing then remembered he needed to get in trouble and punished!

 “Visiting the brothel, again, Shizun?”

The other gaped at his audacity, to be fair, Shen Qingqiu could kick him of the mountain, but after reassuring with the system that would never happen.

 Shen Qingqiu paused and only glanced back, cold eyes sneering down at Luo Binghe.

 Luo Binghe shivered, he sure was the scum villain alright, so scary!

Such a waste of good looks too.

 “Luo Binghe to the wood shed.”

He bowed, “Yes, Shizun.”

Unknwowing that to others he was practically going whth a slring in his step.

“Why do you rebel against your master so? Are you a glutton for punishment?”

Luo Binghe was forced to kneel before Shen Qingqiu, his legs bloodied and skin torn.

 The original goods would’ve broken Shen Qingqius legs for that.

But kneoing he may lose a leg in the endless abyss he was fine with it.

 “This disciple has nothing but respect for Shen Qjngqiu.”

Hah as if! He wished for nothing but Shen Qingqius castration!

 “This disciple is aware how…behind he is compared to everybody else and only wishes to be stronger. After being whipped to the point of no linger feeling pain?”

He missed the wide eyes of Shen Qjngqiu as he kept speaking.

 “This disciple knows many more trails are to come and this one has to be stronger to face them. So far the punishments have given this Binghe so much thatvhe can’t hope to ever repay. But as the years passed noticed less punishments…”

It was strange usually this was when Qjngqiu got worse.

“This Binghe never wanted to lose all that progress and so…to continue this disciple had to…escalate such things to get what I wanted.”

When he glanced up he blanched, he’d never seen Shen Qingqiu look so enraged!

Luo Binghe realised what he said then bowed, face red in shame.

“This disciple apologises! He should have spoken with Shizun first! And never went about his own training in such a way! This disciple was wrong!”

“Oh, so now you understand?”

Easy for you! Binghe was focused on survivng the abyss! Not your ego! 

 “It seems this Shizun was rewarding such behaviour. Are you truly a masochist?”

Shen Qingqiu used his foot to raise Luo Binghes chin from the floor!

Luo Binghe kept hos face impassive the only thing giving him away was a small twitch.

 He did not want that type of attention from his scumbag Shizun! God damn it!

“N-no Shizun this lowly one only wanted-“

The foot moved, and before Binghe could even relax, Shen Qingqiu rose as he stepped on his head pushing him intk the floor, Luo Binghe turned his nose just in time befkre it made contact.

He grunted, unable to move. Only riding it out until his scum Shizun got it out of his system. But this sucked.

 “What a degenrate beast, thinking he can take advantage of his Shizun. You don’t care aboht getting stronger only using that as an axcuse to get away with being disrespectful.”

Luo Binghe opened his mouth then closed it, to be fair…Luo Binghe did enjoy being able to clap back and roast Shen Qingqiu and even being beaten bloody and blue he thought-

Worth it!

Shen Qingqiu noticed then pushed his foot down harder.

Luo Binghe scowled.

 “With this type of punishment sometimes wonder werher you get off on this, Shizun.”

Shen Qingqiu paused, “What did you say?”

“Visiting all those brothels, and favouring Ning Yingying so, what if sineone where to walk in right now and see this, wouldn’t they jump to conclusions?”

Shen Qingqiu gripped his fan- ha a reaction! Even the original goods had never made him break his fan!

Luo Binghe wanted a record, lips twitching.

 “Whose the degenerate now? Pervert Shizun.” 

 Shen Qingqiu grabbed his hair yanking it back then slammed him into the floor.

 It was too quick to hurt.

All Luo Binghe knew was the blood pouring down his nose all over Shizuns lamenated flooring.

 “Clean yourself up. Then come back and clean this mess and if this stains this master will,”

Luo Binghe looked up at him tiredly, raisng an eyebrow.

 He’ll what? Beat him, burn him?

Kill him?

Ha! he can try he’s the motherfucking protagonist!

 Shen Qingqiu paused, eyes narrowing and Luo Binghe had to inwardly cackle.

Ha he did it! He broke Shen Qingqiu!

 Who knew his tried and true method of pissing of trolls online was apathy and not caring! Peerless cucumber for the win!

 Luo Binghe bowed, “if that’ll be all Shizun, this Binghe will return to clean his mess.”

That you made, he left unsaid.

After that things went…wrong.

Shen Qingqiu ignored him.

No one bullied him, no one hit him. Even when Luo Binghe poured tea all over Shen Qingqius head, it was scalding hot too!

He wasn’t punished.

No. No. No. no-

 The endless abyss was only a year away! 

And are you freaking kidding me! What wanting to get punished made Shen Qingqiu finally act like a decent Shizun!?

That asshole.

Whenever he saw him Luo Binghe couldn’t help but glare his scowl darkening and saw the smug bastards smirk.

 It was awful, Luo Binghe was so used to being on the attack and on guard.

So now he jumped at the slighest sound, thank god no one was there to see him flinch away from a bunny!

And his workload was depleted! He barely had any chores and suddenly realised he had so much free time!

Damn that scumbag!

 Its funny, the lriginal goods would give his left leg to be treated this way…as an actual disciple of Qing Jing Peak and yet…

 It felt wrong. Luo Binghe was completely thrown off it almost affected his appetite!

…

Wait.

Luo Binghe paused, the endless abyss was a matter of survival.

He was going to have to get used to not drinking water or finding food as well as fighting.

 Luo Binghe, who was going through the motions as he sparred with the rest of the disciples, going through the qing jing peak forms-

He never did before, too busy doing chores to never realise his manual was fake.

…he could’ve went to Mu Qingfang but knew his meridians were healthy and could easily be called a liar.

So he instead left two manuals on Shen Qingqius desk and wrote in the best caligraphy to ever grace the earth;

“I know this is a fake asshole.”

Of course Luo Binghes writing was awful in lessons! But now that Shen Qingqiu was no longer punishing him. Luo Binghe didnt hold back or doodle anymore.

Instead writing as many pages as he could neatly and was done befkre the glass.

The only irritation when Shen Qingqiu realised was a slight eye twitch.

 As well as other lessons, easily able to create the object they were supposed to paint before Shen Qingqiu could even critisice him Luo Binghe beat him to it.

 “The perspective is off and the bounce light is coming from the wrong direction. This disciple apologises for wasting paint.” He spoke in a bored tone.

The other disciples whose work was way worse felt themselves drop in shame.

If Luo Binghes was bad how in the fuck where they going to compete!?

 With all this three time, he decided to spend every moment in the library and study demonic beasts.

His memory was good and he of course knew every single weakness how cluld he not? The monsters were the only redemable thing in PIDW.

Poor Binghe he deserved better!

 He could train with Liu Qingge? Maybe say hey my Shizun is better than you and I can prove it fight me!

 Huh thats a plan. 

But the fact that Liu Qingge was alive was weird, after asking around it turns out Shang Qinghua had something to do with that…

 It was strange- but he didnt have time for that he had to focus! And being hungry was really making it hard.

Even so better doing this now in an enviroment where the wkrst thing that can happen is him collapsing.

Other than the abyss where he might end up dying.

 His head was splitting, he could barely sleep because of the pain.

  There had to be good spots in the abyss for water but airplane skipped it!

Oh no the porn was more improtant than survival! Dumb fuck!

Even so, he had to be lerfect in class, as well as remain consistent in his spars and able to face off against disciples.

And he was doing great! He wasnt hungry as much he could still fight okay the headaches he had grown used to so its fine!

 If he couldn’t fight hand to hand with a freakin disciple then how the fuck was he going to last one day in the abyss!

What Luo Binghe didnt know was he was the world child and the abyss wouldn’t be so bad in the sense it was supposed to make him stronger.

In the original story, Luo Binghe only clawed his way out for his hatred for Shen Qingqiu.

The system was very aware that this Luo Binghe…had no ambition.

 With nothing to keep him motivated, Luo Binghe may give up and so the system had no choice but to make the abyss easier.

Although technically it wasn’t unlike the original goods who was tossed in unprepared, terrible base, and ignorant.

This Luo Binghe has been training so of course it was going to be easier.

 But seriously host was damaging himself!

Luo Binghe, was panting harshly, his hands weak.

 He had to pace himself.

He knew his stomach would shrink if he stopped eating, he couldnt over indulge or he might hurt hinself or his stkmach might explode.

He had to get used to smaller bites.

 And learn how to ration food.

It got to the point where even Shen Qingqius food which used to smell heavenly just smelled.

It was still good. But he didnt want to eat it.

He knew logically his food tasted good, he just didnt care for it.

 When he delivered placing it down before his Shizun.

 Remebering the time Shizun found out his meals were cooked by Binghe! Was pricless he looked like he could cough up blood! 

The truth cane out when Binghes hands were injured, and of course he couldn’t train so he bawled telling Shizun not his hands how will he cook for him!?

 Thats when Shen Qjngqiu found out, and he had the most darkest mood ever.

The disciples of course took it out on Binghe, then he remembered oh yeah, Luo Binghe lost a limb in the abyss! Ergo more training!

So he was able to dodge and fight his way out with just his legs!

The fact that he was in a tree when Shen Qingqiu found him, with a ton of disciples tormening him he almkst laughed at Shen Qingqius face!

 Oh if only he still had a cellphone.

Ah if only his hands could work and take one too!

Instead Luo Binghe decided to paint Shen Qingqiu and it had to be his best work yet!

He had to admit it was the only healthy way to get the aggresion out his system. 

Art was therapytic no matter what Qingqiu said!

 And his woodshed was…covered.

On one hand he wanted to hide them, on the other?

He wanted someone to see and get pissed and punish him for it.

Now, Luo Binghe thought bored, he never gets punished. He was starting to miss it.

 doodling another Shen Qingqiu, his fault for being so handsome!

He drew Ming fan occasionally as well as the other male disciples.

Ying shijie always pouted that he never drew her as his french girl.

But he couldn’t!

Knowing the relationship the two had, anything could trigger a romance he did t want to risk it!

Men were safer!

He just said drawing ugly people was better to learn, Ning Yingying is too lretty unfortunatly!

She flushed then decided to say nothing else.

 Even so, Ming Fan was growing into his looks, he wasnt as gokd looking as Binghe but he no longer looked like an awful mini Scum.

 Luo Binghe was so tired he found his limbs shaking.

 His clothes were too big and he kept tripping on them.

And his head was pounding.

 One foot then-

He blinked his eyes open to see a ceiling, what?

 He tried to get up until a hand grabbed his head and lushed him back down.

Luo Binghe yelped, looking up to see Shen Qingqius dark face.

What? Was he upset Binghe was still alive? Well sorry oh great and bountiful Shizun this Binghe will try harder next time!

Shen Qingqius lips twitched into a sneer.

“Luo Shizi. Please don’t try to kill yourself no matter how much you want praise from someone.”

 Luo Binghe blanched, did he say that outloud?

“Now, might want me to explain why Luo Shizi is neglecting hinself?”

Mu Qingfang asked sktging before Luo Binghe.

It was…weird seeing two peaklords staring him down…

“Um, This Binghe wanted to be prepared in case…at any point found himself somewhere with no food or water and had to survive.”

He spoke, it was a very valid fear! Anything can happen to a cultivator!

“Why would you think that would happen to you- to take such an extreme risk such as this, to prevent it?”

 Luo Binghe’s eyes flickered to Shen Qingqiu for a split second but it was enough to make Shen Qingqiu snap.

“You really believe this Lord will do that to you?”

Luo Binghe stared at him and Shen Qingqiu looked more annoyed.

“Stop looking at me like that!”

Like what? Was he pulling a face?

(He was, he always gave Shen Qingqiu that look when he thought the kfher was being fumb)

“Luo Shizu has Shen Qingqiu done something to make you act this way, has he hurt you?”

“No.”

Both spoke at the same time, Shen Qingqiu looked surprised at Luo Binghe who stared straight ahead at Mu Qingfang.

 “This Binghe, has never been harmed by Shizun. In fact this one has been spoiled! This Binghe only wants to get stronger and prove that Shizun didnt make a mistake in making me his disciple!”

Mu Qingfang melted “Oh Shizi, you don't have to prove yourself. Afterall most of the peak knows that you are a gifted young student!”

Now Luo Binghe paused, sorry what? Since when!?

 “So theres no need to push yourself. You are a growing boy! And developing an eating disorder in this stage could damage your cultivation!”

Luo Binghe blinked, well…no it won't matter to a heavenly demon.

To a human sure, maybe but he was the protagonist he would be fine!

“Shen Qingqiu, you’ll have to watch him.”

Oh sweet! Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t give a shit! As long as Luo Binghe was careful and ate a little bit he wouldn’t collapse and be more careful he should be fine!

Both noticed Luo Binghe perk, Mu Qingfang felt something ease to know how much the disciples loved their Shizun.

Meanwhile Shen Qingqiu gave the other a narrowed eyed stare on why the thought of Shen Qingqiu watching him would being him delight?

As soon as they walked back to Qing Jing Peak, Luo Binghe turned in the direction of the wood shed to continue reading his books until he choked as the back of his collar was tugged yanking him back.

 “Where do you think you’re going?”

Shen Qingqiu asked, lightly fanning his face while holding Binghe by the scruff like a misbehaving dog.

 “My…room?”

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes twitched.

“You really believe this lord is going to leave you unsupervised?”

Luo Binghe gave him that look again.

 And Shen Qingqiu’s first impulse was to slap him.

 He held back, knowing his wayward disciple probably enjoyed that!

“Since this Shizun has been so neglectful of his poor student,” 

Luo Binghe twitched, tensing up waiting for the guillotine.

What was his Shizun up to?

 “This Lord will have to personally take care of you hinself.”

Luo Binghe blinked then froze.

Shit.

Shit!

He had no idea this could happen- but to be fair he thought his Shizun would bite off his own tongue rather than pretend to be caring for someone like Binghe!

 “From now on you will be living with me in the side room at the bamboo house.”

If Shen Qingqiu wasn’t holding him Luo Binghe would’ve fell on his ass.

 What?

“Come on, what meagee things did you need at your room that you were in a hurry to get?”

Luo Bknghe grit his teeth and had to turn stiffly as he walked towards the wood shed and entered.

Shen Qingqiu stayed at the doorway not entering, and instead watching Luo Binghe gather his books and manual.

 He checked the contents making sure it wasn't another fake one the shoved it in a quirken pouch.

 He wasn't stupid or had an eating disorder for christ's sake!

 He just could be reliant on constant fokd only to die of something silly like starvation or hunger day 3 in the abyss!

 And Shen Qingqiu did not even comment on the wood shed being his room other than the dorms.

The bastard.

 “I’m ready, Shizun.”

Instead Shen Qingqiu didn't move, baring his exit while he stood on the doorway.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

 His eyes flickered to the back wall.

…that was full of his paintings and charcoal sketches of Shen Qingqiu and…others.

Okay sure after fighting Liu Qingge he had to draw him too!

 Luo Binghe didn't move.

“The disciples can use it as tinder for the fire if needed. So why move them?”

 Luo Binghe tilted his head, “And Shizun does not expect this disciple to live in the side room for the next foreseeable future this Binghe will return back to the woodshed in no time so why move them?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

Shen Qingqku snapped his fan shut and turned with a flourish of his robes.

How unfair, Binghe was still in his disciple era and can't do that yet.

 With each step he followed Shen Qingqiu to his new home, mulish expression on his face.

  The other disciples scowled darkly at him in envy.

Afterall its the first time any one other than the head disciple had been so close to the peak lord.

 Luo Binghe went straight to the side room and started tidying.

 He’ll have to sort out the linen sheets and wash them, dust, then wipe the floor, open the window for ventilation-

 He ended up washing the sheets outside and once they were dry with a tailsman he brought then back then paused to see his room was done.

Somebody had already cleaned and wiped down the floor.

The window was open allowing a nice cool breeze in the warn room.

“Ming Fan had finished your room. All you have to do is put your things away. You are under direct orders from Mu Qingfang not to over exert yourself.”

Luo Binghe scowled “Yes, Shizun.” 

It was a nightmare.

His Shizun would demand lunch and watch Luo Binghe eat then would make sure he didn't go to the bathroom to throw it up-

Like he would!

 Shen Qjngqiu even told him to stop eating when he seemed to realise it was too much for Binghes recovering stomach before even he knew.

 Even so he was monitored, made sure he slept and didn't read well into the night.

When Shen Qingqiu learned this he ended up tying Binghe in immortal binding cables and laying him in bed.

 Shen Qjngqiu was more aggrieved to learn that's why he was sleeping through his lessons.

 He couldn’t train as much, and usually Luo Binghe would act cool and aloof.

 But this was killing him.

Ming Fan was taking some sick delight out of this he knew it.

 And Luo Binghe’s temper was growing short, the immortal alliance was coming up soon and with the way this was going he was not going to survive.

 [Host! In order to complete the endless abyss arc- user has to prove he can enter the immortal alliance conference or he may be dropped from the list!]

…what?

“I- I can skil the abyss?”

[Luo Binghe must enter the abyss. Failure to do so Hkst will be ejected from his body and restored to the original one]

Luo Binghe blinked, placing a hand over his chest at the thought.

 He had to get better or he wont jump to his possible death?

What was the point?

 Luo Binghe clutched his arms, and made himself smaller in the room.

Okay. Okay he can deal with this.

The next morning, Luo Binghe felt as if he was run over by a truck.

 His emotions were all over the place… probably from his fucked up diet. 

 He glanced up at Shen Qingqiu who ate with poise.

Mu Qingfang told him it was better if Binghe ate with someone. And that someone had to be his scumbag shizun.

He really didn't understand him…you'd think he’d encourage this type of behaviour? 

 “Stop staring and eat your food, mongrel.”

What a dick.

Luo Binghe was pushing his food around and forced himself to take a bite.

“Shizun?”

“What.”

Luo Binghe stared down at his food.

“If this disciple regulated his eating habits only to then fall back into the same habits later down in the future- what would happen?”

“You would die.”

Shit-fuck!

“So this disciple should stop eating now instead-“

He was hot with a fan.

It was less painful that anything Shen Qingqiu has done to him before. It just surprised him.

 “Why prepare for something that may never happen? Why not just build your own grave then lie in it and be done with it? Theres no point wasting this masters time by making you a disciple just to watch you throw it away. You can’t be trusted, that is no longer your body. It’s mine, not one scratch, not one bruise and not one bone protruding without my say so.”

Luo Binghe scowled down at his food.

So now he cares? 

 “This one can still function as a disciple discreetly if you're worried about what others think. Contrary to popular belief I don't want to die.”

Shen Qingqiu looked unimpressed,

“Then what do you call this? Do you miss those punishments so much you would reduce yourself to self harm?”

Luo Binghe blinked, “Self harm? This is only to get stronger, now this Binghe can function without headaches after skipping meals compared to before-“

“Stop.” Shen Qingqiu really looked irritated.

“You are a cultivator, if you don't want to eat work on your core instead, so you have inedia.”

He would but Meng Mo told him if he pushes his core anymore his demonic cultivation will throw it out of balance. So far he’s been working on building that up. 

 By the systems calculations he wouldn’t be able to unlock that ability for the abyss.

To make it more angsty for the readers.

For fucks sake.

So now he was back at square one. Couldn’t train like before and had to go back to the same amount of chores as the others. Finishing quicker but befkre he could even help Shen Qingqiu would aopear like his fucking shadow and punish the ones Luo Binghe helped.

Shen Qingqiu realised he was fine with punishments but when others got hurt on his account Luo Binghe would back off!

Why!?

The original Luo Binghe would be ecstatjc to have such a kind and caring Shizun! But he had to wonder what the fuck changed!?

 Luo Binghe in PIDW did everything to get Shizuns approval but was kicked into the abyss for it! He was punished for breathing!

Now Luo Binghe would give anything to chop wood till his fingers bled or feel the burn of the whip on his back!

And it wasn’t weird he was just under stimulated! 

 He needed to do something!

So he ended up in the kitchen aggressively cooking deserts.

 And it smelled nice.

He already over cooked a ton to feed the entire peak!

He sighed after pulling out his last batch.

 May as well give them out, wouldn’t want to waste food.

“Strange how you can cook such delicious foods yet treat them so callously.”

Luo Binghe flinched, fuck me!

He didn't even hear the devil come in!

Luo Binghe glared, another thing he would’ve been punished for, and yet Shen Qingqiu only seemed amused by it.

…was his Shizun bipolar or what!?

 Luo Binghe glanced away.

“This disciple was only stress baking, I bought the ingredients myself so it's not wasting Qing Jing Peaks resources.”

 Shen Qingqiu picked up one of the steam pead flour cakes he just baked and tasted it.

 Luo Binghe waited for the verdict.

 He hoped Shen Qingqiu wasn’t going to make him eat all this food he may actually develop an ED if he did.

“Eat this.”

Luo Binghe fucking called it.

Before he could even reach for one, Shen Qingqiu pushed the food towards his mouth, Luo Binghe had to eat otherwise it would make a mess.

 Suddenly flavour exploded on his tongue.

It tasted so good, of course it was the protagonist cooking!

 He slowly chewed  then swallowed it.

 “How did it taste?”

“Good.”

What was Shen Qingqiu getting at?

“So what is the problem,”

Luo Binghe tilted his head. Was it bothering him that much that Binghe refused food?

 “Its not the taste of the food. Its the fear that I’ll grow so dependent on it and find that I suddenly cant have it.”

“But getting stronger and studying beasts, what's the point in that if you run your body into the ground.”

Luo Binghe had enough, throwing the tray of food to the side.

“Why do you suddenly care!? You whipped me because I talked back but you dont do that now- I starved in that wood shed you never cared, my back was bloody my hands mangled you did not care. So why start now? You may be fine with acting like the kind Shizun. The great Xiu ya Peak Lord Shen, but excuse me for not buying it. For waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

 So what will it be next? After this would it be sleeping? Is that going to be our new thing once this is done? How many mkre ways do you need to torture me.”

“You torture yourself. I did nothing.”

Yet.

But he will throw Luo Binghe of a cliff into the abyss to kill him.

 “You hurt yourself then blame me. You enjoyed those punishments as training, so I stopped realising it was teaching you the wrong lesson. You’re different from other disciples, stupid. To think this is how any respectable cultivator would train-“

“I’m not a cultivator.” Luo Binghe spoke tiredly, looking at Shen Qingqiu with a bored expression on his face.

 It riled Shen Qingqiu up.

“This one was an unwanted disciple, a waste. All because Ning Shiejie wanted a shidi and you wanted to win one over Liu Qingge. Because he wanted me first.”

 Shen Qingqius eyes widened and Luo Binghe looked down.

“You never wanted this disciple, and this Binghe is fine with that. But after giving me a fake cultivation manual, making me fight elder hammer with posion that could kill me. How can you blame this one for flinching waiting for a third blow?”

Shen Qingqiu looked shocked that Luo Binghe even knew that much.

He walked past, ignoring the food plans of distributing it around the peak forgotten.

 Luo Binghe sat before Shen Qingqiu. Forgetting that he had to eat with the devil.

The only thing that gets Luo Binghe through the day is karma.

Everytime something unfortunate happens to Shen Qingqiu (who had such unfortunate luck) 

 He would bare witness to it.

Being bested in a duel by Qi Qingqi. He ended up cheering her on the loudest.

 Seeing Shen Qingqiu try to practise sword fighting and making a huge hole in qing jing peak.

He acted like he did it on purpose but Luk Bknghe was fascinated by his tells and knew the man was embarrassed.

Dropping a tea kettle on his foot he even hopped up and down with a yelp.

That was the best one!

Thoughts like that got him through.

He ate mindlessly not tasting anything. And had to stop when his stomach ached. 

“Keep eating.”

Luo Binghe paused, “What?”

“Keep eating. After all this Shizun is cruel and would force poor Binghe to starve so keep eating.”

What a petty bitch.

 Luo Binghe did staring right at Shen Qingqiu and kept eating. Until his bowl was finished.

His stomach was killing him.

But he ignored it.

 Then he began to swallow more, saliva pooling in his mouth, and-

Luo Binghes eyes widened, he dropped his bowl into the floor and lunged for the bathroom, even Shen Qingqiu flinched at the breakneck speed then grimaced when he heard Luo Binghe throw up.

 Luo Binghe didnt eat the next day.

And Shen Qingqiu was begging to lose his temper.

“If you don’t eat properlly you’re not going to the immortal alliance conference!”

God dammit!

 Luo Binghe had to admit defeat.

He had half a year left, it would make it more difficult but he had no choice.

 He started slow, eating fruits out in the open after training where everyone would see.

Starting off small.

 Sharing snacks and eating them himself, and when it came to big meals, would still leave food left but not as much as before.

Its fine, when he’s in the abyss he knows what to expect.

 He faces monsters in the beginning, has to keep moving into the centre where he finally finds some springs for water, but no food. Maybe he can prepare a quirken pouch to take supplies.

After all what if water is stored in things, like plants, or trees or even rocks!

It can happen!

 If he has tools to store water, and food and make it last then thats eight out of ten problems.

 Then theres madam meiyans adventures with the succubus clan…hmm, he really wants to skip it.

Losing his first time in an abyss is not the best place, but he would need new clothes…

He had no idea while he was recovering eating, passing Mu Qingfangs bill of health.

 Everyone even peaklords praised Shen Qingqiu for being there for his disciple and helping him through somethimg so trying.

It pissed him off.

No one gave a shut ablut his eating habits, he sweats mu Qingfangs care for his own disciple than his fellow maritial sibling.

 And Shen Qingqiu knew Luo Binghe.

That look in his face when he was alone, the anxiety, and panic before settling down.

 It was refreshing. Before Luo Binghe would always show that fake smile and act friendly but underneath Shen Qjngqku knew something was wrong with the kid.

The relief when he finally showed his true colours and stopped pretending.

If its one thing, Shen Qingqiu hates its liars.

 But no, Luo Binghe may be showing signs he was okay maybe he really is over this bad habit.

 But now its when a new habit appears.

He mentioned sleeping so now Shen Qingqiu is more vigilant making sure he goes to bed on time and stops studying those demon books.

Why is Binghe even writing notes on how to defeat a monty python rhino? 

 He’s too young to be fighting that- he was given a list on what to fight in the alliance why was he studying something else!?

“Maybe he’s trying to copy you?”

Shen Qingqiu paused, lowering the tea cup from his lips.

“Excuse me?”

Mu Qingfang only looked at him cooly.

 “Its not a secret that Shen Qingqiu doesnt sleep, is a bright young man but is weak in his cultivation, and is too skinny.”

Shen Qingqiu scowled. “Thats ludicrous and untrue. He’s never went to a brothel.”

So there!

“Not yet, maybe it’ll happen in time.”

“Why would Binghe copy me?”

“Most do, to someone they respect, or idolise. Maybe wanted to understand you better.”

No. Mu Qingfang is definitely wrong at this.

“Binghe is making his own mistakes. He’s not following mine.”

Mu Qingfang hummed, “Its only a theory, unless he starts showing…signs. Maybe you might have to have the talk.”

Shen Qingqku stared then his eyes narrowed “Certainly not. That's the hallmasters job!” 

“Maybe there's a lot of things he doesn't know-“

“He had a mother. She would’ve told him.”

…

“What?”

As Luo Binghe came back ho- the bamboo house he wanted to collapse onto his bed.

 He wanted to skip dinner so bad but he had to eat now.

Like a respectful adult ugh! 

 “Binghe!”

“I have moon cakes! I’m eating moon cakes from Ning Yingying!”

He snapped back, he just got into bed! Now he had to stomp because Shizun would want him face to face.

The typical parent yelling for their kid then not answering when they respond.

 “Not that, impertinent brat. Sit.”

Luo Binghe sat. What? What could his bipolar Shizun want now?

 “If you visit brothels or make nong yingying pregnant I will castrate you,”

Whoa- what!?

Luo Binghe blinked “Shizun, this disciple must have hit his head at sparring today and didnt hear you right. Can you please repeat that?”

What the fuck?

Shen QingQiu sneered down at him.

 “Someone brought to my attention that you like to copy me.”

Luo Binghe started looking around and Shen Qingqiu scowled.

“What are you doing.”

“Looking for my fan. But I can’t seem to find it.”

As well as tge stick up my ass but thats not there either so clearly he’s not copying!

“Being a recluse, hiding away from others and assuming the worst of others and your strange relationship with food then you mentioned sleeping habits….”

Luo Binghe glanced back up, surprised.

 Even Shen Qingqiu…?

Luo Binghe glanced back down then realised where Shen Qingqiu was going with this-

“I don't need the talk!” He yelped face red. He did not-

He stood up walking away.

 “I’m not copying you- I’m not going to end up in a brothel with tons of women-!”

Although original Binghe would’ve-

That wasnt him!

He wasnt interested in a harem! Maybe find some girl settle down study beasts get a bet one.

Oh how cool would that be?

The protagonist with a giant fucking wolf as his companion?

Yeah a big heckin chihuahua. 

 Luo Binghe had to start cooking something or he was going to go nuts.

 …Shen Qingqiubeas seriously starting ti scare him.

When his diet was back to normal, his workout began again. And now he was studying arrays.

 Fucking stupid, he was.

Why didn't he think of this before? Keeping food hot or frozen to last longer.

And even have inside pockets so he wint lose his shit willy nilly!

He soent all his tike studying, and sewing and-

Bang!

Most of it exploded in his face.

“Shizun!”

“Don’t tell Shizun!”

It was an accident! It wasn’t on purpose!

But Nong Yingying snitched and now he had to go over sewing techniques and arrary work with the hallmaster again.

 And when they saw what he was trying to make they laughed. Claiming it was impossible.

Luo Binghe gree mullish, fuck you he’s the protagonist he can fucking do it!

 After hiding away from prying eyed and working on smaller fabrics was able to make a heating AND freezing charm.

He experimented with cold foods first to see if they stayed frozen in the pouch then crowed with delight that it worked!

Now to make it bigger!

 And just like that he was able to store large amounts of food in his pouch oldest at the friend newest at the back sk nothing got too spoiled.

 He was so giddy.

After making tons of pouches and even showing them off and how they worked and why they existed.

Shen Qingqiu cleared his throat.

 “Write your progress into a report. We’ll place your findings in the library with the rest.”

Huh…huh!?

“And Binghe.”

Luo Binghe stood at attention as Shen Qingqiu gazed down at him.

“You are approved to go to the immortal alliance. Do not disappoint me.”

 What oh- oh fuck YES!

-he wanted to ditch these disciples why join kf they’re going to struggle!?

Then the demons arrive! About time! Ah these were mich better to fight than the easy ones!

Even the spiders were easy!

 “Everyone! There is a snow flower that is a deterent to demons! Up this way!”

Once they were safe did Luo Binghe sigh with relief.

 At least now, its all on him.

“I’ll go find help!”

He left the disciples before they could utter a word.

Now alone all he had to do was wander aimlessly until the abyss opened.

 He was nervous, like exams, dentist, and blood tests all into one.

 He just wanted it over with. As soon as he was in the abyss the better.

 “Binghe.”

“Fu- Shizun!?” He nearly died- what the hell? 

Oh yeah, Shizun was supposed to toss him in.

 “What is Shizun doing here?”

Shen Qingqiu scowled, “Rescuing disciples such as yourself. Come on.”

Mobei-jun comes in, and Luo Binghe feels his hands shaking as he watched as Shang Qinghua was hit into a tree.

 This was wrong.

Shen Qingqiu was actually fighting a demon and telling Binghe to run?

“Hmm, what a weak cultivator.”

Shen Qingqiu growled, “You demonic spawn- this Peak Lord is the Xiu ya sword! And you will fall by my blade!”

Shizun was hurt.

Shen Qingqiu evaded the most of the ice crystals, but was pinned to a tree by a viscious one.

Shen Qingqiu may die.

Luo Binghe moved, not even aware just lunging for the ice demon with a yell, swiping his sword down.

 He’d forgotten all of his training, only using his bare hands as Mobei-jun looked at him with interest.

“Binghe- run stupid boy!”

Luo Binghe wasn’t paying attention, instead he evaded even getting slammed into the ground, almost breaking his arm he ignored it, until Mobei-jun grabbed his head.

“Hmm, human but not.”

Wait- the monty python…

Luo Binghes eyes widened as a clawed hand reached towards his face, he screamed at the pure agony in his forehead as he was dropped to the floor. 

 He clutched his skull feeling the mark of sin burn into his forehead his whole body becoming liquid fire when his demonic core burned through his meridians along side his spirtual veins.

 Luo Binghe panted, fuck he felt awful.

Mobei-jun replaced the rhino… why was it different?

“Beast.”

Luo Binghe looked up, eyes drooped and out of it. Until a sword touched his neck.

Luo Binghe stiffened, remembering where he was and what he was supposed to do.

“Shizun? Want to tell me what your doing?”

“Who are you calling Shizun, demon mutt?”

Ah back to pet names huh? Luo Binghe hummed, “This disciple is just as surprised as you.”

He glanced to the side and saw Zheng Lang destroyed.

 “Shizun, can you do this one a favour?”

“No.”

Luo Binghe shifted back, and stood up, Shen Qingqiu held his sword high, green eyes almost black with the dark scowl on his face.

 Luo Binghe took another step back, then another.

  His eyes remained on his sword, he really…wanted to take the sword with him…having a sword would be easier in the abyss now he can’t.

He missed the wide eyes look of his Shizun, missed the panic as Binghe took another step back.

 “Shizun, can you fix my sword? Say…Luo Binghe died…a human.”

Shen Qingqkus eyes widened, his sword faltering, as Luo Binghe took another step back.

 Then felt the ledge under his foot and paused.

 “This one has always trained for this…You were never a good Shizun, but this past year…” Luo Binghe turned to look down at the abyss, his chest suddenly tightening, it was terrifying, he was scared. Who wouldn’t be?

 He was procrastinating at this point, the timer ticking down.

 “I think I might miss you. Shen Qingqiu.” Luo Binghe smiled, showing all his teeth no different to how he looked before he did something to piss Shen Qingqiu off.

Then he fell, falling back into the abyss, eyes squeezed tight breathing heavily to hold in his scream.

 The rift shut with a snap.

Leaving Shen Qingqiu with his hand held out, eyes wide in shock.

 He fell to his knees, wounded, in pain…and numb.

All this time he wanted to do away with that brat, he dreamed off it-

Now?

“Shen Qingqiu!”

“Shen-Shidi!”

His eyes slid over to the broken sword…he moved and began to pick up the pieces.

 He may as well honour that brat. And do this one thing for him.

____________

Luo Binghe almost collapsed against the broken stairway, almost there.

 He lost track of time of how long he was in the abyss. He barely had time to think or feel, just respond to each attack and survive.

The only reprieve was when he found a little oasis when the system would pipe up.

 And tell him hints with b-points that he earned in the development arc Disciple days.

Luo Binghe almost slumped with relief, food and water was scarce, it was worse than Qing Jing Peak, he knew if he woke up he would be halfway down a beasts mouth.

 -gets a dog

-loses a dog

System makes him go to madam meiyan.

“You upled the difficulty on purpose!?”

[stop doing side quests and go to madam meiyan! You need new clothes and then you can get Xin Mo!]

Luo Binghe paused, Xin Mo?

“Why didn’t you say so?”

Like an autistic stuck in a closet and forgotten about, Luo Binghe was actually getting used to the abyss.

 But after the loss of Pear…

Yeah, he wanted to call him mini peerless cucumber but that was a mouthful in the abyss. But he wanted it affiliated wkth fruit and thought Pear was a good name.

 When Pear was ripped to shreds in front of him, Binghe drove off any cute baby animal that got too close.

He thought that as the protagonist- he really wanted to go home with lear, watch him get bigger and be an intimadating badass!

 The system knew he was dodging basic Luo Binghe plots and waa dojng his own thing so to give him angst it decided to make him break down.

Losing his pet, his one stability, his confirt in this wasteland. Shen Qingqiu never betrayed him, so he had to accept loss in one way or another.

It just sucked!

And so after finally trudging up to Madam Meiyan, reluctently, then felt bad because she was nice.

He told her he didnt want anything to happen in the abyss, not until he was safe.

 She patged his hand yet still helped him get new clothes.

She didnt act like the femme fatale side fling of Luo Binghe. She acted like a caring older sister.

He slumped in gratitude, and finally adorned the black and red robes.

He checked himsekf oht in the mirror lerking up. 

Now that is a protagonist!

 Complete lady killer! But not in this world!

Luo Binghe, as a reader, always thought if at any point he would have to marry?

It’d be Liu mingyan.

She was smart, strong and cool. Best girl.

 Even so Madam Meiyan was so kind, it almost made Luo Binghe cry.

 Even so, he couldn’t stay in the den long, thats just inviting disaster.

 He began his journey again, rationing his food and thankful that other than the beggining, at least food was no loner scarce and he could eat and not have to worry.

 [That could also be inedia]

Or that too!

Even so, the monsters had to get stronger thats how you level up!

And Luo Binghe wasted no time grinding he wasnt a newb!

He was going to keep fighti bf every single demon he could lay his on to get stronger.

 [Host is procastinating to avoid Xin Mo]

He was not!

…maybe- even so he needed duel cultivation to deal with it.

And he didnt want to deal with it.

So when he finally made it up the stairwell, leaning heavily on the wall and leaving blood and ichor on the pale stone,

He saw Xin Mo in tge centre of the room.

 Before he was scared, now he had to get over it.

 He beat his training, he was literally having a vacation in the abyss, after Xin Mo magbe that will no linger be a problem.

He approached extending his hand and grasped the handle.

Quiet.

Then a sudden flood of screams, intense rage and anger swarmed into him.

He grimaced falling to his knees, breathing his throat aching when he realised he was screaming too.

[Host! Soend b-points to temper Xin Mo?]

Yes yes a hundred times yes!

The screams didnt stop, but dulled down to a feint baackgfound noise.

God how did Luo Binghe deal with this.

He raised his arm and sliced downwards into an arc and a portal opened up.

Luo Binghe gazed at it like the first sunset honest delight on his face.

He didnt think it would work the first time!

 As he stepped through the portal still open he glanced at the sword and three it back into the portal.

“Yeet.”

Instead it slung back missing his neck to slam into the tree behind him.

The portal closed.

[Host and Xin Mo are bonded for life. Only destrkying Xin Mo can release its hold.]

Luo Binghe brushed a hand over his face, really?

At least that was his new goal. Destroy Xin Mo.

The system even had the nerve to make that as a bullet point on his list lf tasks.

[What else will host do now that he’s free?]

Well other than the abyss, he didnt have to do the other plot points.

 He didnt have to return to cang Qiong. Or even go to Huan Hua.

 He coukd just wander PIDW to his hearts content and fight monsters, rescue damsels, without marrying them.

It sounds like a dream-

[Warning! Character arrival! Task: defeat important character!]

Mobei-jun appeared even seeming surprised to see Luo Binghe.

What? Why? Why!?

[To fix plot holes ;)]

You tricked me!

Luo Binghe leaped back, evading Mobei-Jun attack- it was weird.

How weaker Mobei-Jun was.

He could kill him, just use Xin Mo and sate it for now…but Mobei-Jun was a loyal fighter…

And he wont be able to spar with Liu-Shishu again. As Luo Binghe kept dodging, considering expression on his face, he was unaware it kept pissing off Mobei-Jun.

“Take this seriously!”

Oh? Ah he was being rude. Compared to when he was a child, he was easily slammed into the ground.

Luo Binghes claws extended as he grabbed Mobei-Jun by the throat and slammed him into the ground.

Mobei-Jun grunted eyes wide to see Luo Binghe straddling on top of him heavenly sigil glowing with red demonic eyes looking down at Mobei-Jun like he was an interesting bug he decided to play with knstead of squish into the dirt beneith his biot.

“Do you lield and swear your loyalty to me, or should this one kill you know and save myself ghe trouble?”

Mobei-Jun swallowed eyes bright.

“This one will follow you, Junshang.”

[Congragulations! Luo Binghe is now a lord! Next task- defeat the saintess Sha Hualing to claim title as demon emporoer!]

Luo Binghe stood up leaving Mobei-Jun on the ground, onlivious to the ice kings new sexual awakening-  

And stared at the system.

“Are you telling me that I HAVE to do those plots?”

[Yes! Become a demon emporer! And also be adopted into Huan Hua! Investigate plot points! Revenge on Shen Qingqiu is optional!]

Oh?

[Merging the realms is also optional!]

Hmm.

Even so, the reason Luo Binghe merged the realms was because of paper work.

 He’ll need people, unlike the og Binghe who couldn’t trust anyone and had to hold his empire himself but also going on adventures and picking up flowers every five minutes? Garunteed his rule wouldn’t be great especially since Mobei-Jun kills his spy who also HAPPENED to be tge advisor.

 “Mobei-Jun.” He glanced over, time to start planning.

 “Not to be a pain, but this Binghe is tired. Can you be accomidating and give me a room? Prefferbly in your northern palace of course.”

Mobei-Jun looked stiff then nodded with a small bow.

“Of course Junshang.”

He opened up a portal and and was soon making his way to his new home.

Luo Binghe never liked the cold, in his former life or this one.

 But he’ll have to deal.

____

First order of buisness after dealing wkth Mobei-Juns unruly court.

 Linguang-Jun had to go.

Any infatuation Mobei-Jun had fizzled. Luo Binghe only sneered down at the blood smear of what was left of his uncle and said.

“Just some cannon fodder who didnt add to the plot, bound to backstab for further gain when given the chance.”

He had a point but still.

Then he demaded to see Shang Qinghua.

“Relax, Mobei. This lord only wants to reunite with his precious Shang-Shishu.”

Mobei-Jun kelt giving excuses, making Shamg Qinghua overworked on purpose so he would never meet their ecentric demon Lord.

Luo Binghe must have grown tired breaking Mobei-Juns hand and warning him that he was being polite but now enough was enough.

The three kf them sat at a table together, Luo Binghe spread like king, relaxed. A contrast to both Qinghua and Mobei-Jun who sat stiffly.

“So your the spy who ruined the immortal alliance and backstabbed Cang Qiong to align with demons! Never knew you had it in you Shishu!”

Shang Qinghua looked like he was going to vomit.

 Hmm, the man was always…different.

More cold. And evil.

This guy was a gerbil.

“Hmm, first order of buisness. Mobei-Jun.” Luo Binghe looked up glaring at him.

“No killing Shang Qinghua. No matter what, even if he betrays yourself or this Lord being him to me to punish, understood?”

That seemed to surprise both.

“J-Junshang? Thank you for the order on my behalf, but ks there any reaoson…to…”

Shang Qinghua lost his vouce the more Luo Binghe stared at him.

What? Whys he so scared for- he doesnt know me yet or how string I am-

[Host has a resting scary face]

That was just cruel.

“This lord…likes paperwork.” Luo Binghe spoke aving his sleeves and moving forward to pour tea.

 “Its calming, helps keep my thoughts organised. Excessive paper work, redundent paper work, incompetant paperwork is something I’d rather not do. If this lord plans on conquering the south or even plans on dessimating Huan Hua-“

Here Shang Qinghua twitched.

Other times he would’ve missed it.

But in the abyss any movement reflects so much.

“Havkng a base in the human realm and demon realm garuntess my hands will be full. Shang Qinghua is managing the northern realm as well as Cang qiong. Someone that competant will lighten the load.”

After making the tea he sliced his hand calmly watching the blood pour into the cup.

 He saw from the corner of his eye, Shang Qinghua breath hitched, his face pale.

“Here Shishu, drink. Swear your loyalty to this demon lord.”

He wondered why Luo Binghe never did this to his close subordinates in the first place.

Make sure he’d never get betrayed and reward people under his emply with healing beneifts.

Join Luo Binghe we have health care!

“Hmm, why so hesitent Shang-Shishu. You wont bettay this lord so what worry is there?”

Shang Qimghua gulped then grabbed the cup chugging it down.

Luo Binghe laced his fingers together as he gazed at Qinghua.

“Hmm? Does Shang Qinghua know something?”

Shang Qinghua was back to his pale trembling self.

 “N-no Junshang. This Qinghua knows nothing.”

…he’s lying.

Luo Binghe dropped the playful act and tilted his head.

Shang Qinghua immedietly started sweating buckets.

“Do you like reading Shang Qinghua?”

The other nodded “Y-yeah?”

Hmm.

“Theres a book this lord can’t stand, the worst literay piece ever known to man. I regret laying my eyes on such drivel. Its called Proud Immortal Demon way, has Shang Qinghua heard of it?”

It was instant, Shamg Qinghua almlst stopped breathing.

“Yes.”

Luo Binghe felt himself relax, and in turn Shang Qinghua looked like his strings were snapped.

Luo Binghe almost felt nad for him.

“Yes I didnt like that story, so I decided to change a few things in it.”

Shang Qinghua began to oerk.

And in turn Mobei-Jun began to glower-

Itvwas strange woth how a fee words he had Qinghua relaxing and leaning in closer.

 Mobei-Jun would’ve guessed it was the blood but he felt no different.

…or maybe…

No. He felt no different.

Of course when Shang Qinghua came running to him screaming he of course hid him out the way until it was junshang trucking towards them.

“Airplane!”

“Ah dont kill me!”

Mobei-Jun stood stiff “Mobei-Jun get out kf my way.”

“No killing Qinghua. Your order.”

Luo Binghe blinked then scowled at Qinghua who stuck his tongue out at him.

The killing intent was string even Mobei-Jun almlst buckled from it.

Luo Binghe scowled “Fine!”

“If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve used my blood parasites dipshkt.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Hmm hmm.”

“Your inside me-“

“What? Ew why are you like this!?”

A/n:

Shen Yuan: Luo Binghe was influenced by Xin Mo it wasnt his fault.

Shen Yuan as Luo Binghe with Xin Mo: does nothing inappropriote and is a distinguished gentlemen.

-Shen Qingqiu trial

Luo Binghe wanted nothing to do with the scumbag and just let the consequences of his actions continue their course.

 As Luo Binghe was investigating the origins if his parents (since the system was adament ablut it for some reason) he didnt think his inlut mattered.

 But then  it was his reputation that came into it.

 He realised he should have….maybe…thought this through.

 “Is it true that Shen Qingqiu abused his disciples?”

 If it was one thing, Luo Binghe wanted to be fair. Shen Qingqiu never abused him, but he may have murdered Qui Haitangs brother.

But if Luo Binghe expressed nothing was wrong then the whole cultivation world will see him as a backstabbing disciple!

 Luo Binghe was also…curious, why the original goods never invaded both dreams to see what really happened. Verify the evidence so to say.

 “This Binghe has his own personal reasons to remain here at Huan Hua.”

Not to mention, Shen Qingqiu could blackmail him as being a heavenly demon.

 Luo Binghe already felt like he could t relax and retire not with this threat looming at him.

“And Shen Qingqiu has never abused me.”

Here he saw Shen Qingqius twitch, and ignored it.

 “But his past with Qui Haitang is something I am unfamiliar with.” He could tell the tide was changing against him.

 To stand aside while his Shizun was being condemned? How unfilial.

“And so this Binghe has decided to personally investigate this case as a neutral party.”

Qui Haitang looked his way-

“What!? So you can hide evidence and help your scumbag Shizun!?” She yelled and Luo Binghe spoke.

“On the contrary, a rogue cultivator claiming a Peak Lord had murdered her entire family with only servants to survive? Where are such servants why is there not more witnessed to confirm this case? This could just as easily paint you Miss Haitang in a poor light with just the right defense.”

Luo Binghe gave her his best charming look, hoping to give off friendly big brother vibes to aplease her.

“Dont worry Miss Haitang. This Binghe will only uncover the truth on what happened that night and help you find peace.”

[Congragulations! +50 Charisma points for Miss Haitang! Possible love arc begin-]

No no no- it wasnt- no! Cancel love arc CANCEL!

-uses his dreams and finds out the truth from both.

Speaks to Shen Qingqiu in the water prison.

Hunts down servants. Who are scarred and reveal the abuse of Qui Jianlou and his crimes. How they speak kindly lf Shen Qingqiu who got them out.

 How Luo Binghe accidently saved Shen Qinqqiu-

“Why help this Master? It can’t be because you want to play the part pf a loving disciple? After all,”

Shen Qinqgiu leaned close, speaking softly so others wouldn’t hear.

“This master tried to kill you three times after all.”

Luo Binghe smiled, “This Binghe knew he had bigger threats to face, after knowing the trials I had to overcome…you didn’t seem that scary all of a sudden. And this Binghe knows of worse things to come that taking revenge on my scum Shizun seems like a waste of time to me.”

After Luo Binghe removed the red immortal binding cables, tenderly holding Shen Qingqius hand and unwrapping each rope, his eyes furrowed at how thin Shen Qingqius wrists had become. Shen Qinqqiu had lost weight-

“Luo-Shizi.” Luo Binghe straightened, “ah Sect Leader Yue!” He bowed hastily.

“Apologies, this unfilial disciple never meant to disrespect Cang Qiong mountain-“

Instead the sect leader took his hands and made Luo Binghe look up, the look on his face was stra ge and made Luo Binghe uncomfortable.

And the worst thing happened.

The sect leader bowed to him!

“It was Cang Qiong who has done a great disservice to Luo Binghe.” Everyone in the room heard such a thing, Huan Hua bristled but all the lthers practically hungered for the drama.

 “That we had failed in such a way that you felt that you couldn’t return and felt undeserving. Cang Qiong doors will always be open to Luo Binghe, he doesnt have to prove his worth or fear rejection to come home.”

Oh- oh!

 He had to admit, Yue Qingyuan was similar to him, killing them with kindness. Making it seem as if they were the perfect sect family outside, and creating this humble narrative that Luo Binghe didnt deviate and spit on Cang Qiong but it was in fact a simple miscommunication!

 Then Shen Qingqiu spoke as well, “Yes. Qing Jing Peak is your home, unless Luo Binghe doesn’t want to return to the mountain that took him in?”

Oh, now everyone was watching Luo Binghe.

 But…they both could accuse him of being a demon, so why not use that instead?

Even so, both of them were looking at him expectantly, they all were.

“This Luo Binghe is grateful, and relieved to know that his worries were unnescary and that Cang Qiong still accepts me.”

Shen Qingqiu smirked, looking like he was about to win- until…

“But this Binghe is ungrateful. Huan Hua took me in after I was injured and this one wanted to repay that debt, maybe even foster good relations to both sects. And further more…This Binghe wanted to learn more about his past, the Luo River is closer to Huan Hua where I was born and wanted to learn about my past.”

 Luo Binghe gave them both beseaching looks.

“Can this one still stay at Huan Hua until I find the answers I am looking for?”

Shen Qingqiu looked annoyed, the Palace Master even inturupted.

“Yes! Why Luo Binghe was forced to find sanctuary here and never returned to Cang Qiong is a mystery! And Shen Qinqgiu! You claimed he had died at the immortal alliance!”

Shen Qinqqiu gritted his teeth, and the others became more rowdy.

 “Luo Binghe will remain here, until he feels comfortable speaking the truth and has no fear of the power and influence both of you have.”

Luo Binghe was touched this father figure was coming to his aid, but he couldn’t be more wrong, he was a demon emporer. He had a lot of power and influence.

________

“Afterall I’m the scum Shizun! And you are the victim! Always blaming me when in reality you hurt yourself,” luo Binghe paused huh?

 “What? No- never ind that.” Why was Shen Qingqiu upset anyway? “Look I’m at Huan Hua now, far away from you. And we can both pretend the other doesn't exist!” Then Luo Binghe paused.

“What are you doing taking missions so close to Huan Hua in the first place?”

Shen Qinqgiu ignored him.

 “What this master does with his own time is his own buisness.”

Okay.

Even so, Luo Binghe figured Madam Meiyan may help with Xin Mo, he can only spend so many b-points on suppressing it, but if it acted up in Huan Hua he may accidently trigger a papapa scene with one of the women and he didnt need that!

Why was it that no matter what mission and what he wanted to do, Shen Qingqiu was there!?

Always in trouble, always causing trouble, really playing the petty scum villain and being an overall pain in the neck!

Xin Mo kept telling Luo Binghe to just kill him and one of these days he may just listen to it!

 -wife plot with SQQ

 He had no idea why, Luo Binghe was on his way to another peak to investigate his mothers origins Meng Mo found a lead of a familair disciple who knew Binghes ‘mother’

Also the imposter syndrome he figured Origianal goods would lose face but this Luo Binghe was only looking into the plot, if his parents were alive he doubted they would be close, 

_____________________

And this is where I lost steam and had no idea what to write next, that LBH/sy is ignoring sqq and focusing on himself but when the others in trouble he goes "Ah well its the scum villain who cares...but I have to ask questions I'm the protagonist, and I want to ask questions about this plothole and such-" accidently uncovers Sqq past and reveals it was self-defense.

Whoops?

Now SQQ wants Luo Binghe back at Cang Qiong NOT because he cares about the little beast- it looks bad on HIM as a Peak Lord that he has some unruly disciple avoiding his peak like he's some abused little maiden running away from her husband.

Shen Qingqiu would break his fan at the thought, that little brat loved it! Shen Qingqiu has never raised a hand to the beast in years!

Luo Binghe even claims he hates him, that he's a scum Shizun and never cared so why does Binghe go out of his way to save Shen Qingqiu? instead of washing his hands of him, it doesn't make sense....

_______________________

Yeah I do want SQQ and Binghe to be end game, like SY is fascinated by SQQ as a character and has more interest in him than the women of the harem.

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Quality Time

[Main Fic] [Lavender and Free Love Series]

Behold, the thing I randomly finished last weekend and finally had time to edit today! Almost 2 years after the original fic was posted, here's the promised 'Lan Wangji takes A-Yuan shopping' extra scene for my 1970's artist AU 😌

--//--

As a general rule, Lan Wangji and Wen Qing don’t tend to play host.

Their home is certainly nice enough. Modest, but elegant and tastefully decorated in a fairly even mix of their individual personal tastes. Thankfully Lan Wangji’s preference for asceticism doesn’t seem to bother Wen Qing much, though she does tend to soften his influence with touches of her own. Slightly haphazard stacks of books on their otherwise impeccable bookshelves when she’s in the throes of a new research project, or a wine-red throw blanket for the sectional when he would typically choose white. On the rare occasion that Lan Wangji considers what their house must seem like to outsiders, he thinks that they’ve adequately created the image of two people happily in love sharing a life together, but typically neither of them are too keen to have their personal lives observed so closely by the near-strangers they work with who would attend such things as house parties hosted by two of the most unapproachable professors in their entire university.

That being said, Wen Qing’s family is an entirely different matter, and Lan Wangji hasn’t yet minded playing host to any of them who pass through their door (though he will admit that he has a preference for their current guests as well as Wen Qing’s grandmother).

Mere moments after he shuts the front door behind him, he feels a gentle tug of tiny fingers on the leg of his trousers. “Rich-gege, up please,” little Wen Yuan says sweetly in the way of toddlers (where ‘please’ sounds more like ‘peas’ and is paired with a grabby hand up at him in clear expectation of being held). Lan Wangji bends without hesitation to scoop the boy up onto his hip, where he promptly clings on with tiny fists in his nicely starched collar, and Lan Wangji offers the boy a smile in return for his wide grin, tongue just barely poking out between his little teeth.

“A-Yuan, you shouldn’t call him Rich-gege,” Wen Qing admonishes from the sofa, her brother beside her and the both of them cradling cups of tea. They’re clearly in the middle of supervising A-Yuan’s playtime judging by the way the perpetually tidy family room has apparently been hit by a tornado made of multicolor wooden blocks and a small menagerie of stuffed animals. 

“I do not mind,” Lan Wangji reassures, as he always does. He turns his attention back to A-Yuan tugging insistently on his collar. “Hello A-Yuan. Have you been good for Popo and your Ning-ge since I saw you last?”

A-Yuan nods vigorously as Lan Wangji carries him into the kitchen and the boy starts lisping through a story that Lan Wangji has some difficulty following but that seems to be about a game he played with Wen Popo the day before. The rules of it as explained by A-Yuan are as incomprehensible as one would expect, but he makes a point to hum at the right moments as he pours himself a glass of water one-handed and sips at it as he listens.

A-Yuan is still chatting away when Lan Wangji sets the empty glass in the sink and returns to the living room to settle down in the arm chair to the left of the sofa where he re-settles A-Yuan more fully on his lap so they can look at each other as they ‘talk’. A-Yuan is an excellent conversational partner, as far as Lan Wangji is concerned; he never seems to need much feedback in order to continue.

When A-Yuan runs out of new stories to share for the time being, Lan Wangji helps the boy down off his lap so he can go back to his blocks only to find himself otherwise alone with his brother-in-law.

Wen Ning is a quiet man, unlikely to fill silences or to necessarily want them filled for him, and so Lan Wangji simply unbuttons his suit jacket and gets comfortable, one leg crossed over the other primly as he watches A-Yuan play and listens to the sound of Wen Qing muttering to herself over something in the den around the corner, most likely one of her new lesson plans that she’s still aggressively editing.

When the sun has nearly set and A-Yuan’s activity — which is now directing Wen Ning to move his stuffed animals through some sort of self-written and -directed theatrical play with the building blocks forming the ‘stage’ — has become interspersed with glances towards the kitchen, Lan Wangji stands to go find Wen Qing where she’s hunched over their shared desk scribbling furiously in her notepad.

“Would you like to go out for dinner?” he offers after a gentle knock on the door frame. “It has not begun raining yet, we will likely beat the storm.”

“Hm? Oh. Dinner already?” she sighs when she glances up and out the window to her left. “That’s alright, Popo sent them with enough food to feed us all for the entire weekend if we want to stretch it that far. The fridge is about to burst.”

“Mn. I will begin heating it, I believe A-Yuan is hungry.”

“I’ll be right in.”

Lan Wangji simply nods and turns to head back out through the sitting room to the kitchen, slippers quiet on the carpet. He’s methodical and precise as he withdraws enough containers from the fridge — glass casserole dishes and startling amounts of obviously new Tupperware both (Wen Qing has so far avoided every invitation to a Tupperware Party but her grandmother has apparently not been so fortunate) — to provide them with more food than they’ll likely need. He knows that A-Yuan apparently doesn’t remember the brief stint he spent going hungry before moving in with Wen Popo, but Lan Wangji is still painfully aware of it anytime it’s his responsibility to take care of the boy.

Dinner passes happily, A-Yuan’s cheerful chatter softening the silence that might have reigned without his presence. The moment he’s finished with his food he clambers his way into Lan Wangji’s lap and it’s impossible to keep a tiny hint of a smile off his lips as he tucks one arm securely around A-Yuan’s waist to hold him steady and continues eating with the other hand. Wen Qing’s admonishments for him to get down fall on conveniently deaf ears, and when Lan Wangji simply snuggles him a little closer she gives up with a fond sigh and returns to plying Wen Ning with another helping of vegetables.

Lan Wangji can feel A-Yuan growing more relaxed as his chattering peters out into yawns and, most likely, blinks that are getting longer and longer, and so when they’ve finished eating he takes A-Yuan upstairs to get him changed into his pajamas and tuck him into the side of the guest bed further from the door, leaving Wen Ning plenty of room to get settled in easily when he retires later. 

And all of it feels so natural.

As Lan Wangji has grown and matured into adulthood, he’s come to terms with the fact that very few things, if any, can be truly black or white. Despite what he’d thought he’d learned at his uncle’s knee, nothing in this life can be conveniently divided in two. Us versus them. This versus that. Right versus wrong. Black versus white. It all sounds so good in theory, nice and clear cut. But it isn’t real. As much as he doesn’t care for the messiness of it all, he’s learned over the years (thanks first to his brother’s gentle teachings and later his own experiences) that there are always exceptions, there are always contradictions.

As a young man recently thrust into the wider world of a public university education, he’d learned that lesson the hard way, and utterly in silence, when he’d long accepted the truth of his sexuality but was finally at the age to hold it up against the harsh reality of his yearning for a family of his own someday. The two desires can’t possibly coexist, yet he’d wanted them both. A man to share his life with, and a child or two to raise together. It hadn’t taken him long to tuck both desires neatly away in a mental box he shied away from at all costs, but now with at least part of the equation in front of him it’s becoming more difficult to keep everything else in the box with it.

Though A-Yuan had been the first to go to bed, the rest of them aren’t far behind him and Lan Wangji is still turning the issue over and over in his mind in ponderous investigation far past the time he would usually fall asleep as he listens to Wen Qing’s breathing even out and deepen on the other side of their bedroom.

The storm that had been threatening all day finally breaks in the small hours of the morning as he lies awake, first with rising winds that shake the trees and knock branches against the window and then, all at once, with a crack of lightning and a nearly instantaneous boom of thunder that feels as though it shakes the house down to its foundations.

“A-Zhan?!” Wen Qing gasps as she sits straight up, eyes wild in the stark white flash of the next bolt of lightning.

“I’m here,” Lan Wangji soothes — to this day he isn’t entirely sure why Wen Qing is afraid of storms, only that she is and, though it doesn’t happen often, it’s something that she requires his help with when the storms are particularly vicious. He’s already slipping out of bed as the next peal of thunder rolls through and he hurries to wrap her heavy dressing gown around her shoulders and pull it tightly around her arms, treating it more like a blanket rather than trying to push her to wear it properly.

“A-Yuan! A-Zhan, you have to help A-Yuan,” she pleads next, a little more sense creeping into her wide eyes though she’s clearly still afraid. She slips one hand free of the robe to grip at his wrist, and whatever she’s about to say next is cut off by the boy in question wailing from down the hallway.

Lan Wangji gently extricates his wrist from her iron-tight grip with a little squeeze to her fingers as he says, “I will get him, stay here.” The moment he’s free, he stands and strides from their room and down the hall. The lights are still off in the guest room but the lightning is thick and fast enough that Lan Wangji doesn’t need them to see A-Yuan sitting up in bed scrubbing at his face as he cries. Lan Wangji keeps calm, of course, but that doesn’t stop his heart from jumping in his chest, nor from breaking in the next moment in response to the raw, screaming cry that sounds like it’s coming from the tiny depths of A-Yuan’s soul, heedless of Wen Ning’s attempts to comfort him.

“I’m here,” Lan Wangji says, his arms already reaching for A-Yuan who practically flings himself off the foot of the bed and into his chest. Lan Wangji catches him easily, cradles him close with a protective hand pressed to his head, one ear blocked by his chest and the other under his palm in an attempt to muffle some of the noise of the storm. “Wen Ning?”

“J-jiefu — I’m alright. It’s only jiejie and A-Yuan..”

“Mn. A-Yuan may sleep with us tonight,” he offers, and when another burst of light flares through the window he spots Wen Ning nodding quickly, sitting up straight and staring at him with wide eyes.

“You are sure you’re fine?”

“Yes, jiefu,” Wen Ning is quick to reassure, barely stammering this time over the title. “I can sleep through it.”

“Mn. Come find us if you cannot. I can make calming tea.”

Wen Ning offers another furious round of nodding that Lan Wangji returns with a single nod of his own before he turns to take A-Yuan back down the hall to the room he shares with his wife. He nudges the door open carefully with his foot to reveal Wen Qing still sitting huddled in the robe, though she’s at least turned on the little lamp next to her bed, the red silk scarf draped over it diffusing the light enough to not be too bothersome.

“Wen Ning is fine,” he reports, nudging the door shut again softly with his heel behind himself. “A-Yuan is frightened.”

“Popo told me a few weeks ago that he’s still afraid of rain,” Wen Qing sighs softly and extends a hand from her terrycloth cocoon to reach out for them. Lan Wangji crosses the room to sit on the edge of her bed so she can reach A-Yuan’s hair to pet gently as the boy continues to shake and cry pitifully into Lan Wangji’s pajamas. “He’ll feel better with a bit of soothing-“

“I will do it.”

Wen Qing levels him with a look that he meets without flinching. Wen Qing is as stubborn as he is, but she’s also exhausted and clearly still a little rattled herself, so this time she caves first with a huff and a glare at the wall on her other side. “Wangji, it’s too much-“

“It is not too much. I have said I will treat your family as mine. I promised.”

A-Yuan turns more firmly into his neck. He’s still wailing, though he seems to be losing steam quickly, hiccuping sobs interrupting each outburst for longer and longer. The matter settled to his satisfaction, Wangji stands slowly from the edge of Wen Qing’s bed to pace in slow, steady circles in the open space between their halves of the room, gently bouncing A-Yuan’s fear-sweat-sticky weight and murmuring softly to him. He doesn’t know the sorts of stories people tell to children to soothe them, so he simply begins reciting the first of his own lectures that comes to mind: an examination of the symbolism of the four gentlemen beginning with East Jin dynasty literature and progressing onwards through time. It’s far from a nursery rhyme (though he does deign to recite certain relevant rhyming passages where necessary for context or illustrating a point he’s made) and it’s hardly the sort of material a child as young as A-Yuan would likely find entertaining, but that’s fine. The goal isn’t to entertain, the goal is to soothe him until he stops flinching and whimpering every time lightning flashes with its accompanying rolls and booms of thunder or, barring that, remind him throughout the entire ordeal that he isn’t facing the storm alone.

“What a ridiculous husband I have,” Wen Qing eventually murmurs, surprising Wangji into pausing mid-stanza. He finishes the couplet before he turns to face her, one eyebrow raised in silent question. His palm is growing unpleasantly overstimulated from the constant circuits of it over A-Yuan’s back but he doesn’t stop, and as he stands there in the middle of their bedroom with Wen Qing’s sleep-fuzzy gaze on him he feels a little silly. He must not be doing this right; A-Yuan is still crying, though he’s quieter than before, and Wen Qing looks like she’s trying not to laugh at him from what he can see of her in the dim red glow of her covered lamp.

“Mn?”

“Mhm. You’re good with him, Wangji. It’s ridiculous you ever worried the universe wouldn’t allow you to have the child you want so much.”

Lan Wangji finds himself startled again; he’s never heard before that Wen Qing has any sort of belief in cosmic or divine power, whether God, gods, or the mysterious desires of a semi-sentient universe, the great cosmic balancing scales of karma.

“The universe simply is,” he finally says, feeling out of his depth with such an esoteric subject when there’s already so much else on his mind. “My worries lie with mankind, not any higher entity. It’s the laws of men that decide whether or not a man like me may have a child, not the universe.”

“That’s true,” Wen Qing yawns. “Go lay down with him, he’ll calm down some more when you hold him under the covers.”

Lan Wangji blinks at that and now he really does feel silly. Of course, he should just lie down. When he was a boy, after the loss of his mother, the only thing that would soothe him when the nights felt endlessly long and terrifying was crawling into bed with his brother under the cover of the darkest hours. It was only in the safety of the soft, dark cocoon under the blankets, squished between his brother and the wall, that Lan Wangji had felt like he could let go of all the feelings he was always told to hold so tightly in his chest that his whole little body ached with it. Lan Xichen had hugged him and told him not to cry, but he hadn’t said it like their uncle had; he’d said it like he understood why he couldn’t stop himself, and that that was okay too. Lan Xichen had soothed him when Lan Wangji couldn’t do it on his own anymore, and although grief had still made him tongue-tied and serious as a child his brother had loved him — does love him — wholeheartedly.

Lan Wangji turns without a word to return to bed, settling down carefully on his back with A-Yuan perched on his chest and pulling the covers up over them both. Wen Qing clicks her light off when he’s settled in, and there in the dark Lan Wangji finds himself unexpectedly confronted with the old yawning ache in his chest. It’s always been there for as long as he can remember, but he’d learned how to grow around it, the shape of it becoming as familiar as his own hands, or his face in the mirror.

It’s a fact of Lan Wangji’s life that he only knows how to carry love like grief, but as A-Yuan relaxes and falls asleep on him, finally soothed even as the storm continues battering at the windows, he finds himself more determined than ever to ensure little A-Yuan never has to learn how to do what he did.

–//–

Jenny hates summer break.

Summer break means no classes. Summer break means long, dragging shifts at the department store where people talk to her like she’s just some stupid kid and kick her around from department to department, since she’ll never be there long enough to pick a position and claim it for herself like the others.

Most of the time she gets stuck in Children’s Clothing, which is actually fine. Kids are funny, and she likes talking to them like adults to see them light up like little Christmas trees. It annoys the moms and delights the kids, but as much fun as it is it just reminds her that if she had her way she’d be studying to be a schoolteacher. Even with the painful reminder, though, it’s more fun than being stuck in Women’s Clothing or, heaven forbid, Men’s. She shudders involuntarily to think of it, fingers snapped at her like they’re calling a dog and being made to fetch this tie or that, these shoes or those, and tell them it looks good no matter what in order to stroke their egos enough to make a sale. Ugh. 

She’s just here for the summer to make enough to pay for her apartment during next school year, she doesn’t really need the extra commission money the rich assholes from the suburbs can shell out. She’d rather have to pick up a second job, honestly, than stoop that low.

As has become a habit when bemoaning her current situation in life, her thoughts turn towards Professor Wen. One of these days she’s going to get up the courage to ask her how she managed to get to where she is, and take every single little piece of advice to heart. If she has to go into something “worthwhile” to please her parents, then she’d like to do it like Professor Wen. People respect Professor Wen, even if they don’t like her very much. (Though Jenny maintains her private opinion that anyone who doesn’t like Professor Wen is just afraid of her and/or jealous of her.)

Jenny sighs and muses on the incredible force of nature that is a 5-foot-nothing Asian woman in a pantsuit standing there with her arms folded, stone-cold glaring as she tells the president of the university to his face, in no uncertain terms, that she will absolutely refuse to teach the new incoming med students a single page of their textbook if the nursing students aren’t also allowed to sit her lectures. It had been clear to Jenny and all of her classmates that Professor Wen didn’t want to teach the new medical students at all, but since that clearly wasn’t an option it looked like she was going to use the opportunity to make sure the women in the field weren’t swept under the rug in the process.

God she’s just the best. All the boys in Jenny’s class are terrified of her, Jenny and her group of friends love her, and she thinks that says all anyone needs to know about the goddess that is Professor Wen.

Her wandering attention snags on a bit of movement at the entrance to the department and she suddenly remembers there’s actually one more thing to know about Professor Wen, and it’s very important — she’s married to the most beautiful (yes beautiful) man Jenny has ever seen, which is exactly as it should be. Professor Wen shouldn’t have to deal with some random man who snaps at her and expects her to give up her career to stay home and take care of him, she deserves someone exactly like–

“Professor Lan,” she calls, more startled than anything to see him so unexpectedly. Her surprise at seeing him only grows when she glances down and sees a toddler hiding shyly behind his trouser leg, holding onto cream-colored linen in both fists like his life depends on it.

“Jennifer,” he greets, apparently as obstinate about refusing to use her nickname as he’d been when she’d taken his Introduction to Classic Chinese Literature lecture as a freshman. “How are you?”

“Groovy, thanks,” she replies, trying and failing to tamp down her curiosity. There’s no way Professor Wen and her husband have a child, there’s just no way, but the boy currently peeking at her with one wide eye around Professor Lan’s knee is clearly familiar with him. It’s also clear that he isn’t going to let Professor Lan walk any further into the department without causing a fuss, so she makes the executive decision to step out from behind the checkout counter and approach the pair so they won’t have to try to hold a conversation from across the department.

“My wife informed me you had taken summer work here,” Professor Lan says when she’s stopped a few steps away. “Do they treat you well?”

“Well enough. It’s just a short gig so it doesn’t matter much,” she shrugs, privately marveling over Professor Wen not only remembering her plans for the summer but sharing them with her husband as well, who Jenny hasn’t really interacted with at all in the years since she finished his class.

“It matters,” he disagrees, placid and calm as ever. “We may require your assistance, if you are available.”

“Yeah of course I am!” she’s quick to reassure. “I didn’t know you and Professor Wen had a kid.” Alright so her curiosity got the better of her, whatever!

For the first time since he stepped into the department, Professor Lan looks down at the boy clinging to his trousers and rests a gentle hand on top of his head, petting his hair gently as the boy hides his entire face in Professor Lan’s leg to avoid their combined stares.

“A-Yuan is her cousin. He is visiting.”

“Ahhh I see. Is Professor Wen with you?” She can’t quite keep the hopeful note out of her voice but she refuses to be embarrassed by it. It’s a valid question, too! The other shoppers, who have snobbily declined her help to browse on their own for the moment, are all mothers either shopping on their own or with their children in tow; it makes sense that Professor Wen would want to spend time with her cousin and take him shopping even if she would be the only woman in the store with her husband with her as well.

Except apparently not, because Professor Lan says, “She is at home,” and Jenny swears she sees some heads swivel towards them out of the corner of her eye. She can just see it now, these nosy suburban housewives scenting fresh meat and offering up their unwanted advice or criticisms for a man shopping for a child alone — Professor Lan would hate that, and Professor Wen would probably be upset about it, too.

“Oh that’s good,” she chirps a little pointedly, and when Professor Lan’s eyebrow twitches up just a little bit she glances at the nearest nosy housewife inching her way closer like she’s desperately interested in the rows of tiny denim overalls. Professor Lan follows her gaze and she sees his mouth tighten like it did anytime someone in her class gave a particularly obtuse answer to one of his questions during a lecture. She continues, still just a little too loudly, “Professor Wen works so hard, I’m glad she’s getting to spend some time relaxing this summer! I heard about her having to come up with an all new syllabus for the med students, I was worried she wouldn’t get a holiday, and it’s nice for Yuan to get to spend some time with you!”

Professor Lan thankfully seems to realize what she’s done as his mouth softens again as he gives his usual, “Mn,” that she always takes to mean he’s heard but has nothing further to add (or argue with).

Reasonably sure that the moms have been put off by the knowledge that she wholeheartedly supports Professor Lan being the one to mind a small child for the day, Jenny drops down to one knee to direct her attention to the boy once more peeking at her from the safety of Professor Lan’s knee.

“Hello, Yuan” she says, nice and quiet — and then she waits.

No one ever really listens to kids, she’s found. The amount of times she’s seen people talk at them or over them like they don’t have little lives and thoughts of their own is sickening; she always tries to be someone kids feel like they can talk to and actually be heard, even if adults think she’s a little nuts for trying.

Professor Lan, unsurprisingly, stays quiet and lets her do it; he’s got a hand on top of the boy’s head, still, but he doesn’t try to force him to face her directly, or tell him to respond. He’s as quiet and steady as she would expect him to be, and eventually her patience is rewarded with the tiniest little, “Hi,” she’s ever heard.

“My name is Jenny. Are you scared of me?”

A-Yuan studies her for a long moment before he tips his head back to look up at Professor Lan.

“Jennifer is Qing-jiejie’s student,” Professor Lan says, and Jenny tries not to look too excited to have understood how he’d referred to Professor Wen. It’s been a while since she took his class and had the luxury of free time in which to study Chinese culture even though it’s got nothing to do with her future career, but it’s good to know her fleeting interest in picking up at least a little bit of Mandarin hasn’t gone completely to waste.

Her extremely minimal knowledge of it isn’t enough to make sense of the question the boy rattles off next, though, but she doesn’t mind. She glances at Professor Lan for a translation and is surprised all over again to see him smiling more than she’s ever seen before, his entire face softened by it (even if it’s still a smaller smile than other people would give).

“I do not know,” he responds to the boy in English. “She may. Would you like me to ask her for you?”

The boy nods but he doesn’t hide again, so Jenny’s willing to count that as a success.

“A-Yuan has asked if you will hold his hand to take him to the clothes that will fit him.”

Jenny very carefully doesn’t let her excitement to do exactly that show on her face. She smiles, nods once, and says, “Of course, I’d be happy to,” as she stands up to her full height again. She holds her hand down to A-Yuan, who takes it very cautiously at first and then a little more firmly when she curls her fingers around his snugly but not so tight he can’t pull away if he wants to.

“What kind of clothes do you like, A-Yuan?” Jenny asks him as she starts walking slowly into the department, and she’s pretty sure she sees Professor Lan’s shoulders relax under his ever-present suit jacket. “We have clothes you can play in like you’re already wearing, or we have fancy clothes like your Uncle Lan is wearing, or we have nice soft pajamas..?”

As it turns out, A-Yuan is only shy at first. As Jenny shows him every single piece of clothing they have that’s blue, at his request; as she helps him try on little tennis shoes to match; and as she takes care to make sure none of the gossiping, glaring moms get close enough to be able to say anything judgmental to Professor Lan about letting a child have so much of a say in what he wears, A-Yuan chatters happily with her in a confusing mix of English and Mandarin that Jenny tries her best to keep up with in spite of her limited vocabulary. When she can’t, Professor Lan gently prompts A-Yuan to try again in English if he can, or translates for him patiently if he can’t.

It’s altogether a much more enjoyable way to spend the day than she’d expected upon waking up that morning. She’d enjoyed her walk from her summer accommodation into town of course, admiring the way everything always looks so clean and fresh after a good downpour like they’d had a couple hours before dawn, but the nice weather had just made it even more difficult than usual to dredge up enthusiasm for work. Seeing Professor Lan (and A-Yuan) and discovering that he (and, she assumes, Professor Wen) shares her unusual belief that children deserve to be listened to and consulted about their own life is such a welcome change from the usual rhythm of her days. Of course the enormous commission she gets when A-Yuan eventually tires of shopping certainly helps as well, and after all of that it really is just the cherry on top when A-Yuan pouts to be picked up and stoic, scholarly, buttoned-up Professor Lan immediately scoops the boy up into one arm to leave the other free to hold their staggeringly large haul.

“Do you need help carrying this all outside, Professor Lan?” she asks, trying not to laugh. (Who knew he would be such an affectionate pushover??)

“No need, I will manage.” He looks entirely relaxed as he begins threading his free arm through the looped handles of the bags, unbothered by their heft. “A-Yuan, please say thank you to Jennifer for helping you today.”

A-Yuan dutifully picks his heavy head up off of Professor Lan’s shoulder to wave at her and yawn as he says, “Xiexie Jenny-jiejie.”

“You’re welcome, Yuan-didi.” She says it carefully, wary of mispronouncing her tones, but Professor Lan nods at her in clear approval of her attempt and that’s more than good enough for her.

“Will you assist Professor Wen next year with her practical lab work?”

Jenny blinks, surprised once again that Professor Wen must have mentioned her to Professor Lan, even in passing. “Ah..I’d really like to! I’m not sure if I can though, I know the position is competitive..”

“Hm. You applied?”

“Yeah, of course! It’s better to at least try, right?”

“She will accept your application. She values your work and your input.”

Professor Lan leaves it at that, nodding his thanks and hauling their bags off the counter with the noisy rustling of paper to settle them in the crook of his arm not occupied by a toddler in need of a nap. Jenny manages to pull herself together enough to say goodbye and wave to A-Yuan waving at her sleepily over Professor Lan’s shoulder, but to say she’s poleaxed by such quiet, unshakeable confidence in her — from both of them — would be an understatement. She’ll never in her life understand how anyone could dislike those two; they’re the best professors in the whole damn university and everyone knows it.

(In the fall, on the first day of classes, Jenny walks into Professor Wen’s Advanced Physiology lecture and has to brace herself against a thoroughly unexpected smile, soft and warm in a way that lights up Professor Wen’s whole face.

“Jenny, welcome back. I’m looking forward to your help with the biology practicals this year.”

It’s at that moment Jenny officially decides she would move heaven and earth for Professor Wen and her husband, and when they have to take a day off in November to sign A-Yuan’s adoption papers Jenny nearly can’t teach the lessons Professor Wen left her in charge of as her excitement threatens to get the best of her.)

[snarkivistfic]

Tagged by @heyholmesletsgo Thanks so much!!! I am so sorry to take SO long to do this! It's such a fun idea!!

Rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to ao3. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

Sizhui sat glumly on his bed. The sun was fully in the sky and soon it would be time for the elders to come to Zizhen's house for the goodbye ceremony. Even though he had sat up all night with Zizhen, he couldn’t sleep. Peril In Yilling

"Zhen Zhen?" Clan Leader Ouyang called out from the downstairs landing of the Ouyang Mansion. "You're never going to believe what I won at the game tonight!" Zhen Zhen and A-Ning

Meng Yao had the day off, luckily. Well, to be honest, luck had nothing to do with it. Even when he worked terrible and demeaning retail jobs (and there had been so many of those) he had managed to take December 21st off even if he had to purposely give himself food poisoning. The Weighted Blanket

Tay stood at the door, he was afraid to knock. His father almost never acknowledged his presence, let alone requested his company. This could only mean he was in trouble. Common People

"I have a secret mission for you," Kinn said. He has casually walked up to Big in the gym as he was doing his cardio on the exercise bike. "Don't tell anyone, come to the garden after your shift with weapons and ammo and clothes for at least a week." Tonight the War Is Over

Tankhun knew he was probably too old for sleepovers. But Kinn had insisted he come to this one because he was so worried about Tankhun's lack of friends.  You Went and Saved the Best For Last

".... and then we were talking about this romantic book and Wen Ning was like, 'I could really relate to the peasant girl pining for the son of the Lord.' And then I think he gave me like a meaningful look? Maybe? I think it might have been wishful thinking. Like maybe he saw the romantic pining as a metaphor for pining for acceptance from other cultivators because he's a fierce corpse? Thaw My Heart

"My contact was very forthcoming!" Huan-ge said with a smile as he breezed into their kitchen fresh from taking off his hat, coat, and boots. His cheeks were rosy and his lips cold from the Toronto February wind as he gave Meng Yao a peck on the cheek.  The Birthday Surprise

They all knew that they were walking into some kind of trap. It had been a little too easy to get as far as they had into the grounds of the abandoned mansion. Some of you was light

It all started when Tay went to visit Kinn and Porsche to distract himself from another massive argument with Time. Talk To Him

Not tagging anyone because that makes me really anxious but if you think this is fun and want to do it, please do!!

[heymeowmao]

2022.04.02 - https://weibo.com/l/wblive/p/show/1022:2321324753885637247075

Ning-ge hasn’t got anything better to do...

LYN: Hallo everybody, good evening. I’m Modern Brothers Liu Yuning. I really haven’t got anything better to do.. Other than stream, all I do is... stream. XD

Comment: You even dressed up. Is it for the trending topic? LYN: It’s not. How anxious for it do you think I am??

LYN: We’re trying to go for an early class and a late class thing. I did the early class already (4/1) and now we’re working on the later class. 

Comment: How do I get this big strawberry to go away? LYN: Don’t you think it brightens the mood? Why do you want to get rid of it? Why don’t you just get rid of me??

LYN: I saw a comment this afternoon that I thought was really nice. The person said that they’re really bored in quarantine and they knew I was going to stream so at least it felt like they had a friend somewhere out here to accompany them. All of a sudden I felt like my stream had been upgraded. It’s so meaningful that it’s able to give you a sense of accompaniment. In that case... let me stream a while.  LYN: There was someone asking this afternoon, if I would be streaming tonight. I even replied to them and asked them if they thought I didn’t have anything better to do than to stream for you all the time. But alas, when night fell... here I am. 

Comment: Are you not busy? LYN: Are you worried that I don’t have any work to do? I’m quite busy- there are a lot of things to do. But I just think that nothing is more important than you.  LYN: Oh? What’s with the sudden cheesiness? 

Comment: Ning-ge, you’re trending. LYN: See? That’s why I have to thank weibo and all of you for tuning in. I haven’t even gotten started yet and I’m already trending. Comment: How long have you been streaming for? LYN: I just started- we’re only five minutes in. You came in at just the right time. 

Comment: What a dedicated anchor. LYN: This... makes me feel a little conflicted. They said I was an anchorman... which is not WRONG, but why do I feel a little inferior? Other than streaming on weibo I’m also a singer! I’m a singer, my friends. Don’t forget, ok? LYN: Other than singing, I’m also an actor- should I act out a little scene for you too? Comment: Since you said you’re a singer, why not a song? LYN: That was my intention exactly. LYN: /in a funny voice/ Let’s go! Uh.. what should I sing? Comment: You’re already hoarse. LYN: /still in that voice/ No~ No, I’m not. My voice is normal. It’s not hoarse!

LYN: Let’s sing something... something from a singer I like very much. His name is Liu Yuning. Let’s see what songs he has, that I can sing for everyone. Comment: My favorite singer is HZT. LYN: Yeah, alright. I like him too. Hm... what should I sing... Comment: Beggar. LYN: I haven’t sung that in a long time! Let me see if I have the accompaniment.... because I have to go to JT’s drama to play a beggar... Alright, let’s go.

 -- 乞丐

Comment: Keep going! LYN: This person’s already too into the music. They enjoyed that first song too much and want me to just continue with another. First of all- this isn’t a concert. Even if it was! It’s not like you had to buy a ticket!! [..] You didn’t buy a ticket, so what right do you have to make demands? If you had spent some money to come here, and THEN asked for another song, then I wouldn’t be right to refuse. But you didn’t.... let me rest a bit, at least!

Comment: Aren’t you a professional singer though? LYN: I’m not. I’m just a music-lover, not a professional singer. Professionally, I learned how to be a chef. If you were to ask me how to make a dish, I can sit here and walk you through the whole process. But as for singing I can only count as a lover of music, not a professional- because they all have certifications and have gone to school for it. I learned how to cook. LYN: Someone really did make an order! Crispy Sweet and Sour Pork!! Red Braised Pork! LYN: Uhm... /puts on some ~cooking music~/ Let’s talk about how to make crispy sweet and sour pork, my friends. /really explains the whole process - even two methods of seasoning it/ Comment: Honestly, I’ve never had it before. LYN: Next time I’ll make it and invite you to my house. Wait for me. Wait for my call.  Comment: Oh, you learned professionally? LYN: With me- I love whatever I do. 干一行，爱 一行，一行行行行行. - purposely messes up how to say it; bc ‘行‘ can be read two ways (xing or hang). See more: here.

Comment: Ning-ge, there’s a reflection from your glasses. LYN: That’s the air of mystery I want. I don’t want you to see my eyes- so you can’t figure out what I’m thinking. 

- someone asks him about another dish LYN: Look it up online! You really came here to learn how to cook??? Should I change my stream title to “Ning-ge’s Little Kitchen”? I just wanted to prove that I was a professional, not that I really wanted to teach you how to cook... 

Comment: Why is your streaming room so dark. LYN: It’s the mood. It’s the late-night mood. If you want it brighter I’ll grab a candle for you. Comment: To make it romantic. LYN: That’s right. Let me find some romantic music. LYN: ~ Honestly, sometimes.. every person is an innocent child. When you can't sleep at night...~ Doesn’t this music fit this type of mood? Music is a very important part of making an environment. Comment: This type of music doesn’t suit your stream. LYN: My stream should be loud and noisy? Because I am a loud person.

Comment: Ning-ge, turn off the mood lights. LYN: I saw that, too. That the lights hurt your eyes. But the streamer in that case had the lights pointed directly at their face- mine are behind me. They’re shining on you. They can’t hurt MY eyes, but they can hurt yours. /laughs/ I’m fine, but YOU be careful.  Comment: AHH MY EYES! LYN: Stop messing around. My light, in your screen is only a blue stripe, it can’t hurt you. Unless.. there’s no “blue” in your world? I just said it to scare you, and you’re really playing along. It’s fine as long as it’s not shining in my eyes. Comment: It’s purple. LYN: It is blue, just that my filters are on. I’ve adjusted the color settings, so that the blue might look purple. Over here- is a rose red but right now it looks pink. Comment: Is the blurring filter on max?  LYN: :( How can you guys be like this. Why do you think that filter is at max?? /scoffs/ You’re kidding me.. /shows his screen settings/ Look at how high the blur tool is. [t/n: it’s at max.] It’s... oh, it is at 100. /denial/ The max is 1000! I’m only at 100 right now!! Comment: Is the “big eyes” filter on? LYN: No, that one really isn’t on. My eyes are small enough. LYN: ... LYN: Why do I feel like I’ve been cyber-bullied? I came here with good intentions, but you’re all criticizing me. I’m not happy. :(

LYN: Alright! What song do you want to hear? Let me know. Tonight’s for entertainment- I’ll take you out clubbing later.

Comment: I heard you signed into YY’s agency? LYN: You must be new. Welcome. I also welcome everyone else who is watching my stream for the first time today. How many of you are there? Can you type “me” into the comments? I want to see how many. LYN: There are quite many- you’re all typing ”me”. You can stop pretending. I’ve seen some of your IDs so many times already. Thank you for coming to watch my stream- I know a lot of you may have just clicked in through the trending topic. Let me introduce myself. I’m a singer/actor. My name is Liu Yuning. I’m a singer and recently- even if you haven’t watched my dramas- I’m sure you’ve heard of them. Comment: You’re an artist (yisu). LYN: 去你的. You flatter me. I’m not buying it. I’m not an artist. LYN: I only have skills (jisu). I’m not too bad at cooking. 

LYN: My O My? I haven’t sung that in a long time. Let me try. It’s a song off my first album. I just saw the track... But I don’t really want to sing it, because this song is a little sad. I want to sing more lively songs and then later in the night I’ll sing the slow songs.

Comment: You didn’t finish talking about the agency. LYN: I talked about this maybe last year? All the tabloid accounts make up stories that are a year late. I already laid it out last year, and they only got around to writing the rumor now. It’s a good agency, and I also really like YY, and if I were to be signed into it it would only be my honor. But the thing is- I am NOT signed with them. I used to have an agency, and it’s been about a year since my contract with them ended. So now I’m my own boss. I saw that the tabloid said I wanted to sign with a few big projects, and that’s why I needed to sign with an agency. But I am my own boss- I have my own studio and it’s quite nice. We have a lot of work already, so I don’t see the need to sign with a bigger agency. LYN: But this rumor came around because I have worked with YY’s agency- Yuetai Entertainment. My first concert, I signed with them and worked with them to accomplish. My second album that I’m working on right now, I also gave to Yuetai to take care of. It’s a partnership, not that I’ve signed under them. I won’t sign with anyone. LYN: A different company came to me recently and wanted to know if I would like to sign with them. My first reaction was of course, not to sign. I’m my own boss now and I have a lot of freedom- I can do what I want to and take the jobs I want. Thankfully I have a pretty good reputation in this circle, and a lot of people are still WILLING to give me work. Sometimes I can go to a wrap party and get a job out of it- do you think I need a company... I don’t need one. Also- I saw the company doesn’t have any work for its own artists, what do they want to sign me for? Some of my friends are part of their company- they’re all at home doing nothing. I don’t want to go and give you MORE pressure. It isn’t worth it.  LYN: I’m not likely to sign with any company, but I will work with them. For my music and my concerts, I’ll work with Yuetai. I didn’t sign with them, though I’d like to... well, I wouldn’t. This is hard to say. If I had the chance, it would be my honor. There’s nothing wrong with saying that, right? I can’t let anyone get leverage over me with those words. It’s ok, right? Not problematic?

Comment: Ning-ge, can you make the sound louder? LYN: Can you make your own audio louder instead? Please, I’m begging you. I already need to shout to get you to hear me. Comment: The sound isn’t loud or quiet. LYN: Fine. I’ll speak like this- straight from my mouth. I’ve adjusted the volume of my mic now. When I sing I’ll turn it down.

- someone asks about his hair LYN: It’s been a while since I’ve cut it, since I need it for my drama... Someone asked me when I’m going to be in a crew. They must not follow me very closely- I’m in one right now. I hope to shoot three dramas in one year, so I’m all set. Three dramas, one variety show, and one album.

Comment: When are you going out tomorrow? LYN: I know someone who sells the schedules for all celebs, do you want his contact info? LOL. No- I have to go out pretty early tomorrow. It’s a full day of fight scenes. I’ll definitely stop streaming before 11p too. I need to make sure I get enough sleep or I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep up tomorrow.   Comment: Why do you have their contact info. LYN: I was making a joke! D: Why would I? To buy my own schedule?? Or to buy someone else’s- I’m going to chase the stars? No. I was just joking.  Comment: You can buy other people’s. LYN: Why would I?? I’m a part of this industry, my friends.  Just because I’m sitting here streaming with you, don’t forget that I am a part of the entertainment circle. If I wanted to know someone’s schedule I could just ASK. Are you under the misunderstanding that just because I chat here with you that it’s my job? Please don’t forget I’m a singer and an actor. If you’re going to be like that I’ll leave! 

LYN: The last stream, didn’t I bring up the Fox Spirit Matchmaker? And then I saw someone say I mentioned it just for clout. If I ever find them I’m gonna give them a flying kick. Let’s talk this out. If I mention this drama in my stream, what good does it bring me? Nothing. LYN: If I really wanted to gain something I’d bring up any artist and then diss them. For example, “Get LYN out here.” “I’m here, what do you want?” “LYN sucks.” If I tell him off a little I guarantee I’ll be the talk of the town. LYN: I stream for my fans. For the ones who’ve been with me for five or more years, since I was still on the streets. For the fans who just got to know me three years ago when I first debuted. And for the fans who got to know me the past 1 or 2 years from the variety shows or dramas. I need to make them feel like chasing this star is a unique experience. Also, I really do just want to talk. Honestly, I don’t really have a lot of friends. Streaming is the only way for me to let off steam. LYN: People who like me or people just stopping by can watch a little. But if you REALLY don’t like me, stop watching. Don’t watch AND be angry about it. It’s like walking down the street and seeing some dog poop. You’re not going to say it stinks but also get a closer look to see HOW much. If you don’t like me, just go around- you don’t have to pay me any attention. LYN: Not to say that I am calling myself dog shit... that was an example. Maybe not the greatest example...  Comment: Why did you diss yourself... LYN: Human nature. If you don’t want others to hate on you, you have to hate yourself first. If they can’t diss me any worse than I diss myself then they’re going to give up trying. If you’re bullied at work, just start slapping yourself. From the moment you get off the elevator until you get to your desk. I guarantee no one else is going to bully you again. Because you’re already doing it to yourself. Don’t you think this is logical? They’re probably going to think you’re crazy and if they mess with you again, that you’re going to off them. LYN: Maybe my explanation was a little extreme, so please don’t actually do that. Just diss your self before other people get the chance to. That’s all I’m trying to convey. Comment: You can diss yourself but not hurt yourself... LYN: I was just trying to make an analogy, you don’t have to be so serious!! This is like going out to buy a sweetheart cake (lao po bing - “wife” cake) and complaining that there’s no “wife”. Shredded Pork with Garlic Sauce (yu xiang rou si - fish-fragrant pork slices) doesn’t have fish in it. Comment: Who’s Bi Fang and why do you have to hit them? [t/n: 打个比方 - dǎ gè bǐfāng = make an analogy. 打 = “hit”; it’s a play on words) LYN: /sigh/ This is why you have to subscribe to my weibo. Later I’ll tell you why we have to “hit bifang”. Everyone who comes to watch me gets online classes.  Comment: There’s no squirrel (song shu) in Squirrel Fish (shong shu yu). LYN: Oh, are you a cook too?

--- song relay

LYN: Alright. Let’s sing something... Something not mine. How about Xue Zhiqian? I haven’t sung his songs in a long time. - wanted to sing 像風一樣, but there’s no accompaniment. 

Comment: Shan Yichun. LYN: She’s a woman! Her songs are all in the female key. I can’t.

- couldn’t find ANY accompaniment for XZQ’s songs, so he tries another singer: Wang Sulong. LYN: WSL! I can. Every time I go to some event they always want me to sing his songs. They probably figure I have a similar tone to his. XD Our voices are both very sweet~ - wanted to sing Sponge Baby, but the track isn’t available either :p LYN: Someone else!  Comment: Zhang Bichen.  LYN: :x A male singer, please. I can’t sing female singer’s songs. There’s no saying I can sing male singer’s songs either.  Comment: HZT. LYN: Ok, let’s see... let me tell you- his songs are all so hard to sing. I can’t sing them- they’re too high. Let’s listen to this one. // Ok, whatever- let me try it.

-- 舍不得 LYN: /gives up halfway/ Actually I wanted to use this song to show you my rap skills.

LYN: Let’s try someone else. This is the best of my personal ability. This song is so difficult. Comment: Li Ronghao. LYN: Ok, I can.

-- 年少有為

Comment: I cried. LYN: You must be using me as an excuse to cry, because I didn’t sing it with THAT much emotion. Just for fun. Comment: What’s there to cry about? LYN: Don’t be like that. Everyone’s experiences are different, their living conditions are different, their emotions are different. Maybe I sang something that was sentimental for them. Or maybe it sounded so bad they cried. Anything’s possible. Don’t go around laughing at others. Don’t laugh when others cry. I’m like this too- if I go to a movie and everyone else is laughing, I’m sitting there thinking, “What’s there to laugh about?” But I won’t say it out loud. Everyone’s different.  Comment: You were afraid to get hit, so you didn’t voice it.  LYN: That was part of it, too. - advises people to leave comments with good intentions, and not to always attack people

- next singer to try: Mao Buyi LYN: Mao Buyi-laoshi. See? You might be the same age or older than someone else in this industry, but there’s nothing wrong with calling someone “laoshi”. At least I thought that was a safe way of calling people. But there are always people who can nitpick- they thought I was being facetious.

Comment: Lao-da, HZT’s here. LYN: What’re you telling me for?

-- 不染 LYN: Eh? What type of glasses does Mao Buyi usually wear? Black frames, right? Let me switch. - got stuck in the middle of the song and blames it on his microphone

- next singer: Wang Junkai LYN: I don’t know about WJK himself, but how about I sing one from the three of them (TF Boys)? The only song I know is probably 宠爱. I know I might be a little old and not suited for this song, but I still hope you can sing along. LYN: Let’s get ready. Let me wear my sunglasses. So no one can recognize me.

-- 宠爱 LYN: Let me find a “younger” filter to go along with it. This one. Let me pretend to be cute for a sec.

Comment: Cheesy. LYN: My glasses already cover half my face- could you not just IMAGINE that I’m younger? It’s true that I’m over 30. But can’t a guy dream of being more childlike? I don’t care- I’m going to finish the song! - when the song’s over LYN: It’s true. I’m too old for it. You’ll have to excuse me.

Comment: Are you selling glasses? LYN: Yah, you want any? If you don’t want any, then why are you asking?? 

- next singer to try: Lu Han LYN: I actually do know his songs.

Comment: Ning-ge, why do you know so many people’s songs? For clout?  LYN: No- when I go on some shows and see singers I’m really happy. Like Jam Hsiao, DZW, XZQ, etc. I’m so happy when I see them, because- well, I can’t say they’re my idols, but they are singers I like a lot. I used to always listen to their songs, even long before I debuted. Even though now we’re in the same circle and we’re colleagues, I was listening to their music on my way up. I really dislike those people who think too highly of themselves once they make their debut. // Before I debuted I was already someone who liked to sing; who’s song could I sing to? There are only so many. Now I’ve become one of them. :) - side note: tells people off for posting walls of text because it influences other people’s viewing experience

-- 勋章 - it’s too high for him :p LYN: My equipment is so unreliable. It’s normal to experience unexpected technical difficulties- not even just in my stream! It happens during concerts too! Right, my friends? Fam?? (read: back me up here XD) Comment: Change it (your equipment). LYN: Let’s forget about it. I’ve grown attached to this mic.

Comment: Second Hand Rose LYN: You guys go so hard?? I think I’ve only heard one of their songs... I think it’s called 仙儿, but there doesn’t seem to be an accompaniment. It’s probably not available because they’re a band. 

Comment: Something from EXO. LYN: I already sang it didn’t I? One from HZT and one from LH.

Comment: Zhai Xiaowen. LYN: I’m sorry- I’ve heard him sing, but I don’t know any of his songs. I know him. We did Our Song together. 

Comment: Xu Song. LYN: Let me see what songs he has. I know 有何不可. There’s no original accompaniment- it’s all what other people have arranged. Let’s try. -- 有何不可 LYN: ??? Is this a kazoo performance? LYN: Let’s try a different one of his songs. 灰色头像. No accompaniment for that either. Alright. Let’s try another singer.

LYN: Stop typing in actor’s names. I haven’t heard a lot of SINGER’s songs, why do you think I’ll listen to ACTOR’s?? You might have heard them, but not me. oTL

LYN: Zhou Shen! I saw a lot of people typing his name. He uh.. his singing is more in the female range. If I sing his songs I might... (die?). There’s no need.

- next singer: Zhang Jie LYN: I’m a little afraid to sing his songs because he goes too hard. All of his songs are difficult to sing. Sometimes I don’t dare to sing his songs because I don’t think I CAN. They’re high and you have to have power. His songs are likely to make you pass (away). LYN: I’ll try it.

-- 天下 - moment of silence for ning-ge’s vocal chords XD LYN: Give me another chance. // I’m a man. I’ve got to power through this. - can’t power through it LYN: I think men also need to have a weaker side. They can’t pretend to be too strong. Otherwise they won’t be self-aware. LYN: Who requested Zhang Jie-laoshi’s songs. Get out here! There are two singers whose songs I will never sing in my stream again. The first one is Wu Qingfeng and the second is Zhang Jie. Not because their songs are bad, but because I’m not good enough.

-- bathroom break -- (neighbors are fighting) Comment: Who won? LYN: No- I just found out. They’re actors and were practicing their lines. Comment: Who? LYN: What’s it to you?? 

LYN: Alright- do you have any favorite singers? Type their names into the chat.

LYN: People are still typing Zhou Shen’s name. Even though we are friends, I really can’t sing his songs. Some people might now know, but in musical terms I’m considered in the male mid-range. Zhou Shen is already the male high-high-high range. We’re not in the same range, so I really can’t sing his songs. Comment: Can you sing the female mid-range? LYN: The female mid-range is already very high for men.

Comment: Jay Chou. LYN: I know a lot of his songs! I may not be able to sing them all the way through, but I’ve heard almost all his songs before. LYN: Black Sweater? How about I sing you a “White Sweatpants”? Do you want to hear it? It pairs nicely with “Black Sweater” too, we can listen to them together. -- 黑色毛衣 LYN: Alright, up to here is enough. Comment: I want to hear 算什麼男人 (What Kind of Man ). LYN: Why? Is it a gift for your ex-boyfriend? LYN: I dedicate this song to all of our female friends’ ex-boyfriends. -- 算什麼男人 LYN: Alright. That’s about enough of that. 

LYN: Let’s chat a bit now. Stop requesting songs now, I can’t sing anymore. I have a new day of filming ahead of me tomorrow. I have to wake up for makeup at 6a- so around 5:30a. Let me preserve some energy. I’ll chat with you.

----- chat [ skimmed ]

Comment: Let’s talk about motorcycles. LYN: I don’t know how to ride them. I had like.. a moped before, though.  Comment: Didn’t that doctor you played ride a motorcycle? LYN: The stunt double rode it for me. He rode it over and parked it, and THEN I got on and off for the shot. I can’t ride.  LYN: It’s normal isn’t it- I mean, look at the Hollywood actors, aren’t they all using stunt doubles for these things? You think all those artists are so good at driving??  Comment: Those are race-cars tho.

Comment: Ning-ge, you’re exceptionally handsome today. LYN: What, I’m perversely handsome? What does that mean- that normally I’m ugly?

Comment: What’s the bracelet? LYN: It’s nothing. These are just uh... it’s a bracelet. Very cheap. I uh.. I saw someone else wearing it and I thought it was nice. It’s for warding off evil- because I feel like I’ve been needing to ward off evil lately. >.>  Comment: What’s it for? LYN: You might not know Hengdian, though it could be because I’m a little more cowardly. Sometimes when we film it’s in a really old style neighborhood, and we wrap for the say at 2 or 3 in the morning. There are no lights, and then when the car lights turn on, all they reflect on is red cloth. It’s so scary. At least, I’m scared- so it’s a way for me to alleviate my fear. I don’t know what I’m scared of, I just am. I’ll just need a set of red sweater and sweatpants and I’m all set.

Comment: Ning-ge, those little figures behind you moved. LYN: You mean these guys? Great. I’ve been waiting for the day they move. I love them so much.

LYN: I went to record for Detective Plan and I even asked them- are there are particularly scary elements to the show? They asked me if I was scared of ghosts, or what. Like- zombies, devils, witches- things like that I’m not afraid of, but I’m kind of afraid of our Eastern ghosts. Those things mentioned in movies when we were young I’m afraid of, but not vampires. They’re so cool! I remember I was watching Vampire Diaries (?) and I thought, “Wow, so handsome!”  LYN: That’s why I don’t play those escape rooms where there are horror elements. Zombies are fine, but embroidered shoes I’m out.

- can’t talk about his next drama yet because the contract is still in the works - also afraid the leak info about his next project bc 9/10 something WILL go wrong

LYN: My friends are always so worried that I won’t have any work to do. If I stream and my mood is a little low, they’ll start thinking all sorts of wild thoughts. And If I’m happy during my stream they’ll start to extrapolate and conclude that I HAVE work and rest assured. But you don’t need to worry about me, really. I know what I’m doing. Sometimes I may be a little subdued in a stream because I have TOO MUCH work. Have you thought about that? I’m genuinely tired. So you really don’t have to worry about me. I’m doing just fine. 

Comment: When will you work with Yang Zi-laoshi? LYN: I’m waiting for you. I await the day you become a producer and fix her for a project, and then come to find me. Ok? I know a lot of people want me to work with certain other people, and I know that you will be happy for me when that time comes. But the condition is that YOU have to become amazing first. You have to have the ability to sign them first, and then invite me. Only then will we be able to work together. LYN: Of course, I will keep doing my thing- walking forward one step at a time. But I won’t be able to work with them through my effort/wishful thinking alone.

***  - saw a tabloid that was analyzing LYN’s Development Progress and Predicting his Next Steps LYN: Let’s go through this line by line:

1. "It’s difficult for male actors who are short to get cast in dramas. But being too tall also has its disadvantages- because you have to put into consideration whether working with female actors will be influenced.” LYN: You’re just afraid they won’t be compatible, right? First of all, this writer must not have seen The Long Ballad.

2. “LYN, due to being too tall, has been switched out of roles.” LYN: Let me tell you where the fault here lies; it SOUNDS alright, but- I have never, up to this point, never met anyone who lost a role because he was too tall. I have heard the opposite though. 

3. “There was a drama based off a manhwa that came to look for him-” LYN: I don’t think this has ever happened?? Maybe I’m not suitable.

4. “- but when the investor saw him, thought he was too tall. Though the producers pushed for him, in the end he did not get the role.” LYN: The keyword here is “investor”- uhm... this being only appears for movies. Every web drama or tv drama out nowadays don’t have “investors”- they’re produced by platforms or film and television companies. 

LYN:  I know I’m not handsome enough for a drama (based on a manhwa). But if it was based on a short story- I’d be okay because there’s no set image to associate the character with. LYN: But actually I really do know of one drama (based on a manhwa) that stuck my image up next to a character- but they never contacted my studio or anything. Comment: The Long Ballad. LYN: Hao Du was more of a supporting character anyway... Comment: Zi Chuan LYN: No, I was confirmed for that role long before.. LYN: It’s a drama but I’m not sure who specifically they cast. One of my friends sent it to me- they said, “Look. We’re having a meeting for this drama. Ning-ge, your picture is on there.” Comment: TGCF. LYN: No, no. I can’t. That one needs someone ah.. younger.  Comment: Hurry and tell us! LYN: I won’t say... if I’m not wrong it was Yi Ren Zhi Xia (Under One Person/The Outcast). But I don’t even know if they started shooting or not- I just know they used my picture, is all. 

5. “LYN has a respectful attitude when filming, everyone seems to like him-” LYN: This is true. 

6. “-so his resources will not end. His next drama is a modern drama.” LYN: I’ve said in my stream that it’s a modern drama already. That doesn’t count as something you looked into. I said it myself.

7. “His live-stream have a good reception, so his studio has decided to use it as a place to promote him.” LYN: First off, my streaming does have a nice reception, yes. But I don’t do any publicity here, because I don’t have any products. I only promote things when one of my dramas is actually airing. Wouldn’t it be strange if I were streaming and I didn’t mention my drama AT ALL?? So I guess what they’re saying is also true. I do share with you when my dramas or songs are released. Otherwise what’s my stream for? Just playing around with you guys?  LYN: There really is no design to my stream- no one’s writing me a schedule or line-up. I just come here and respond to whatever you’re typing. I’m the type of person who will be really awkward if I have things set-up a certain way. So I come here and just let it flow. If I have to follow a schedule I’ll be really awkward about it.  LYN: ALSO! Sometimes I stream for five hours- tell me how you’re supposed to plan for that??

LYN: Another thing is- when I’m going to shoot a drama, I very rarely go out to MEET anyone. There won’t be any investors who want to meet me. Usually actors only meet the director or producer. Who do you think I am, to be meeting with INVESTORS? Do I have to drink two glasses of wine with them, too?? I’d LIKE to meet with some investors but there’s no chance. XD

Comment: Where’s your rich woman? LYN: I don’t know! She hasn’t spoiled me yet. I don’t even know where she is.  LYN: /to the mysterious rich woman/ Spoil me already! Get me some resources! Don’t give me a surprise, just tell me already.  LYN: hahaha

Comment: Sing Heroe’s Theme song. LYN: The drama’s not even OUT yet. 70% chance it’s airing in May, but I don’t know the exact date. Comment: Which platform is it on? LYN: HOW DARE YOU! It’s Tencent’s. You have to remember. Zi Chuan is joint Tencent and iQiyi. ALZ is Youku’s! LYN: ZC has already contacted me, to go do the voice-over on April 10. 

- talks about Detective Plan- which has been postponed again but SHOULD be able to air on time in May. It’s fun for Ning-ge bc usually when you go to a show you have an idea of what’s going on, but for this one you don’t have a clue. You just have to look pretty and bring your brain. The only thing you have to know is your name. Says the production company must have pulled out all the stops for it- because all the props he sees are expensive. XD Normal people look at the guests, but Ning-ge looks at how much the props must have cost. Haha.

 LYN: Sometimes when you’re watching a drama- there’ll be a sudden endorsement. You might feel a little annoyed at them, and want them to go away. But- what did I want to say here?- Just think about it. Without these endorsements the program you’re watching wouldn’t even be able to air, you know? There’s just no helping it. You need someone to invest in your project so that you can complete it. As a viewer myself, I can understand where they’re coming from.  - gets into brands/platforms and which ones he CAN mention on stream and which ones he CAN’T; depending on the situation- you’ve got to be aware of where you are.  LYN: Sometimes I’ll go to attend some event- and they’ll tell me that after my song I’ll have to do a short introduction of the broadcast station and name of the even I’m attending. That gives me so much pressure! I forget about the song and just keep going over it in my head- where am I right now? What am I here for? Because if I forget and I say the wrong thing I’m never going to be allowed on that station again. 

-- bathroom break --

Comment: Ning-ge, will you hold a fan-meet? LYN: Why? Should I do a handshake meeting? You buy my album and I’ll shake your hand. I can’t. Let’s not gather in large groups right now. If I had the time to do a fan-meet I’d rather hold a concert. 

Comment: My mom said your accent is too strong. LYN: /switches to Standard/ Aunty. This might be the first time you’re seeing me. I am an innocent big-boy from Liaoning, Dandong. My accent is heavy because when I stream I hope my friends can feel close to me. When I stream I use my hometown dialect. But- I can speak Standard Mandarin, Aunty. Did you hear me, Aunty? :)  - tongue twisters LYN: Do you think my Mandarin is standard enough? 

Comment: You’re going to sign with YY’s agency right? LYN: My friend- when I stop streaming for today, please watch the playback. I’ve already addressed this question. Alright?

Comment: Ning-ge, you can get a certificate for speaking Standard Mandarin. LYN: I don’t see the need. As someone trying to get by in this industry, I thought having more skills was better. So I went crazy. I thought- was it possible for me to get a certificate to be a principal (?). I looked up what it takes to pass the test- and I gave up. There’s too much material. It would have taken me three years to finish reading all the books before I could take the test. It didn’t only rely on how good your Standard Mandarin is. There’s a lot- look it up.  LYN: I gave up. I couldn’t even learn properly when I was going to school. So I thought, there was no need to torture myself. 

Comment: Ning-ge, could you be yourself again. I’ll tell my mom not to speak nonsense.  [t/n: bc for the past three questions he’s been trying his best to speak Standard Mandarin only] LYN: When I speak to other people I do use Standard. It’s just that when I’m streaming I want to relax a little. It’s just because no one’s talking (audibly) to me- all the comments you type I auto-translate into the Dandong dialect.  - briefly shows off his Shandong dialect bc someone asked.

Comment: Ning-ge, do you use Standard when talking to Daimi? LYN: I never use Standard with her. I use English. XD LYN: Daimi! Come here. Daimi, Daimi. Come here. Come here, please. Please. PLEASE? Ok. Up to you. LYN: F! F, F, F! F! (bc “f” sounds like “arf” = dog barking sound)  LYN: She’s ignoring me. She went away a little- I scared her.

Comment: Do you know any Chongqing dialect? LYN: I don’t. But this drama- originally my character is from Sichuan. I thought it was okay, because a lot of the actors on set are from there, so I could learn from them. But I found that if I open my mouth and try, the character’s going to flop. Comment: Can you do Henan dialect? LYN: [t/n: I didn’t get what he said, but I get the feeling it was something along the lines of “shut your big mouth” idk, though.] - Tianjin Dialect, Beijing Dialect, Cantonese (reciting song lyrics), Minnan Dialect (one of his aunt’s husband is from Fujian, Fuzhou; the dialect is close), Shanghai, Xinjiang (nope, but he’s heard it before, bc he was shooting a scene with Reba once, and she took a call during a break and was speaking it. LYN: It was so cool!) LYN: Let’s stop talking about dialects, because I really don’t know them. I can’t speak them. Honestly I only really know a little Cantonese and the Dongbei dialect. Everything else- I’m not good at it. 

- Promoting Dandong as a tourist city~ 

Comment: Have you been to Saiyang (?)? LYN: As a person from Dandong, do you think I haven’t?? Many years ago when I was in Happy Boy (Kuai Le Nan Sheng aka Super Boy) I went to the competition in Saiyang. I was even in Happy Boy! I told my mom I wanted to go and she asked me why- was it because I was not happy? I told her no, it’s because I wanted to be a celebrity. She said “Alright” and went with me. We took the train there- I think it was three hours? It should be faster now, maybe one hour, because there’s a speed rail. That was my first time in a competition- I was quite young. I won’t tell you HOW young, though.  [t/n: the first season of Super Boy was 2007- so 18 years old. The second season was 2010 - 21y/o. Or third season in 2013 - 24 y/o. Which one is it hm....] LYN: I had to prepare a song and I went with “你是我的眼”. Have you heard of it? -- 你是我的眼 LYN: Of course I didn’t sing it that way. It was my first competition ever and I was really nervous. I went in there, introduced myself, and started singing. There was no music accompaniment at that time! I got two lines in and they told me to stop, and asked if I had any other song prepared. So I sang Zhang Huimei-laoshi’s 人质. Judges: Alright, stop. Thanks, you can go. Young LYN: Did I pass? Judges: We don’t disclose that today. You can go back and wait for the official notice- we’ll call you. LYN: So I waited until today- 2022, and they still haven’t gotten back to me. LYN: They didn’t get back to me the first year, so the second year I went back. I don’t know what got hold of me. I didn’t care- I was working towards my dream. I went again. Comment: Which season? LYN: The- the season Hua Chenyu came out on. [t/n: HCY was on the third season in 2013. So that means Ning-ge was 21 and 24 respectively, when he went audition the first and second times. :p (If my math is right)] LYN: But this time, I didn’t go to Saiyang- because I thought there were a lot of skilled singers gathered there. Because there’s a music school there. So this time I went to Hangzhou. I’d never heard of any music academy there, so I thought I had a chance. But at this time I was already working in a bar, and doing okay for myself. Comments: /naming music academies in Hangzhou/ LYN: I didn’t know at the time! I still didn’t have much saved up- the bar only paid me 800RMB a month, for six songs every day. Later it raised to 1200RMB. At that time I didn’t really have a lot of money, but I bought a plane ticket to fly to Hangzhou. That was my first time on a plane- all for my dream. But I didn’t have the money initially- I asked the bar owner if he could give me my pay in advance- 3000RMB. He asked me why and I said it was because I wanted to try being a celebrity. He was afraid that if I succeeded, I wouldn’t come back and then I’d owe him money AND he’d lose a singer. But I negotiated- If I succeeded, I would pay him back double. If I didn’t I’d still have to come back and work, right? I’d been working there for three years already, so he trusted me, and he gave me the money. Comment: Did you pay him back yet? LYN: ?! I didn’t succeed back then! I had to go back to work!! I got to Hangzhou- I forget where exactly. THERE WERE SO MANY PEOPLE. There were multiple days for the auditions and I thought if I went on one of the last days there would be less people. There were even more. I got in the queue and there were 300+ people ahead of me. It was so hot in Hangzhou (Southern, HOT) as someone from Dandong (Northern, COLD) it was too much for me. That was my first time in the Southern region, my first time on a plane. There were so many people I took a picture and even made a post about it, and got a little emo.  - goes on telling the story of what went down that day, including making two friends from Ansan, passing the first round and meeting the judges in the second round- which he didn’t pass. LYN: Wait- how come I’ve talked so long about Super Boys? But in the end I went back to the bar and was able to return my boss the money he lent me. 

Comment: It’s a good thing you weren’t chosen, otherwise you wouldn’t be the Ning-ge we know now. LYN: Well said. I don’t think this is shameful at all. People will do a lot of things on their way to success- as long as it isn’t illegal or immoral- none of it is shameful.  - Also tells how he tried auditioning for The Voice, too. For three years. LYN: Life is just like this, but as long as you continue to persevere, one day a surprise will be waiting for you.  LYN: I went from being eliminated from Super Boy- twice!- to singing OSTs for the hottest dramas. This is what’s called a “counterattack”! Sometimes I even look in the mirror at myself and say, “Liu Yuning, who knew a day like this would come.” LYN: So if you have a goal, as long as you keep on trying to reach it, I believe one day you will succeed. It doesn’t matter if you stumbled along the way, you’d still be better off for having tried.

- tells a story about when he was on Singer 2019.  LYN: A lot of things got popular in 2019, including me. Li Xian was big that year... also The Untamed, and uh.. YCY’s group... I think ZYL also had an “ignition” point that year. There was a lot. - received a lot of criticism for being on it, because people didn’t think he was worthy or qualified. LYN: I had just debuted. I was weaker back then- I came back to my room and cried. Wailed. The neighbors made a police report. I made a post about it- it’s still up- I wanted to morally kidnap them. I said, “Are people not allowed to have dreams? Please just give me one song’s worth of your time.” I felt a little aggrieved- the program invited me to be on the show! And they were still over here yelling at me. I didn’t receive an appearance fee- I had to prepare my own clothes, my own transportation- I SPENT money to be there; they still yelled at me.  LYN: When you’re standing up there for the second round, not knowing if you’re going to pass into the next or sing your goodbye song- that moment is the most cruel. I had a feeling I was going to lose- I was just a viral star- just a little internet famous, after all. But when you’re standing there you can’t help but feel despaired. It just proves that all that people were saying about me was right- I wasn’t worthy. I felt like when I opened the envelope it would be those three words: You’re not worthy. I just felt like that. LYN: The fact that I’m able to say this today means that I’ve already recovered from that trauma. I’m just telling you how I felt back then. It’s the reason why I’m able to have such a strong heart/mind now. Pretty much nothing phases me now.  - talks about how there were two music producers on that show from Lianoning, who invited him for drinks after he was eliminated. So LYN, AZ & DF went. LYN got two beers in, needed to use the restroom, tripped on a corner of a suitcase and grazed his arm against the wall. He was bleeding but still needed to go to the restroom so he went. Then AZ & DF took him to get his arm taken care of and go home. LYN: I think the scar is gone? /looks/ Oh, it’s still here. // This scar teaches me something- on my road to making music... don’t drink. So I really try not to.

LYN: Alright. I hope you had a wonderful night. Let’s meet the next time. Goodnight everybody. 

[robininthelabyrinth]

prompt: JGY working for JGS post sunshot is an elaborate scheme he and NHS cooked up one night and he is simply biding his time until JGS does something irredeemable he can report to NHS.

In Here, With Me - ao3 (chapter 2/3)

This is what I wanted, Meng Yao reminded himself at the ceremony where his father gave him a new name and he found out it was an insult.

This is what I wanted, he thought as he watched his father’s men slaughter innocents, acting on his order and at his command.

This is what I wanted, he thought as he was used as a pimp and procurer, as a punching bag for his new ‘mother’, as a convenient scapegoat – as even his proposed marriage was mocked and unreasonably delayed – as he was denied basic privileges and treated as little better than a servant.

Worse, in some cases.

This is what I –

“San-ge!” Nie Huaisang called out, waving frantically, and behind him Nie Mingjue looked default-face neutral but actually, if you knew him well enough, extraordinarily long-suffering. “San-ge! I want to talk to you! About important things!”

If you knew Nie Huaisang, you knew that important things, to Nie Huaisang, included pretty clothing, pretty accessories, pretty birds, pretty people, and spying.

Jin Guangyao put a smile on his face, and for the first time in weeks, actually meant it.

“Any time, Huaisang,” he said. “Why don’t you come inside?”

-

“I hate it,” he told Nie Huaisang, who was trying to look understanding but actually mostly looked smug. “I figure I have two options on what to do about that. Learn to accept my lot in life –”

“Or kill them all and take over?”

“…three options. I was going to say that I was thinking of accepting your earlier offer, but if you really prefer, that second option seems perfectly plausible –”

“No, no, it’s a terrible option,” Nie Huaisang said, waving his hands. “I mean, you’d have to keep it hidden that you did it, you’d spend all your life worrying about someone finding out about it, and anyway, Lan Xichen would be so disappointed in you. How could you live with yourself?”

Quite well as long as he never found out, Jin Guangyao thought, but he acknowledged that all those points were correct. Especially the one about not wanting to live in utter paranoia for the rest of his life.

“What’s your plan?” he asked instead.

Nie Huaisang smiled.

-

“I can’t believe you,” Nie Mingjue said when Jin Guangyao first arrived in the Unclean Realm for a visit to his sworn brother, mulling over his father’s order to find out anything useful he could about Nie Mingjue’s intentions, and the critiquing tone made Jin Guangyao’s back go straight with fear that he would find here only the same disdain as he found in Lanling City. “Why do you listen to Huaisang and not to me? It’s simply unfair.”

Right, Jin Guangyao thought, his shoulders loosening. Right. It’s different here.

“We speak the same language,” he said.

“What language is that?” Nie Mingjue grumbled. “Fan semaphore? Anyway, stop dawdling by the door and get in here already. I told the kitchen to make your favorites since I know you and he will be spending half the day drinking tea and plotting mischief.”

Jin Guangyao nodded, and in a moment of recklessness added, “Would you tell me what your plans are for the position of Chief Cultivator?”

“It should be abolished,” Nie Mingjue said at once. “Why do we need someone to boss us all around?”

A standard Nie Mingjue answer, Jin Guangyao supposed.

“And your next moves to accomplish that?”

Nie Mingjue blinked owlishly at him. “I’m busy rebuilding my sect,” he said. “I can worry about politics later, can’t I?”

Jin Guangyao sighed and went to talk to Nie Huaisang instead.

-

“The wonderful thing about da-ge is that he means well,” Nie Huaisang said. “The terrible thing about da-ge…”

“Is that he means well,” Jin Guangyao agreed.

-

“We could use demonic cultivation as a lever, no one likes that,” Jin Guangyao suggested, but Nie Huaisang shook his head.

“I’m planning on rehabilitating Wei-xiong,” he said. “And the Wen boy, Wen Ning – he was nice.”

“That seems unnecessarily difficult.”

“Just you wait.”

-

“Wait. We’re framing my father?”

“Don’t think of it as framing, san-ge! Think of it as allowing him the rope he can use to hang himself.”

“…has anyone ever told you that you’re ruthless, Huaisang?”

“Hmm. Da-ge, when fighting me for the last sweet. Does that count?”

“No.”

-

“…I take it back,” Jin Guangyao said, watching Nie Mingjue nurse his wounded hand and even more wounded pride after an abject loss at the dining room table. “Huaisang, you can have the last sweet, and also the title of ‘most ruthless’.”

“I told you!”

-

“Does that mean you’ll agree to my plan, then?”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

-

“I’m willing to play along with your stupid plan,” Nie Mingjue said, which came as a surprise to both Jin Guangyao and Nie Huaisang – not least of which because as far as Jin Guangyao knew, they hadn’t actually told Nie Mingjue what they were planning. “But I have some conditions.”

Jin Guangyao turned to look at Nie Huaisang, who looked as surprised as he was, and then turned to stare at Nie Mingjue’s retreating back: he’d only briefly put his head in to check on them in between other tasks, and as Jin Guangyao well knew, his schedule was packed – it was no surprise he didn’t stay.

“Does he know what the plan is?” he asked Nie Huaisang. “Or was he just guessing that he’d have a role to play?”

“I have no idea,” Nie Huaisang said. “Sometimes he surprises me.”

Jin Guangyao nodded thoughtfully. “We should go figure out his conditions,” he said, and Nie Huaisang nodded. “And also how he managed to learn about the plan, assuming he did.”

“What else could you be planning?” Nie Mingjue asked irritably when they finally managed to corner him. “I know what both of you are like, I know what your goals are; the rest of it all falls out quite naturally from that. Have you figure out yet how you’re planning on fixing the Wei Wuxian problem?”

“Setting up an opportunity for rampant heroics. He won’t be able to resist.”

Nie Mingjue nodded.

“What are your conditions, da-ge?” Jin Guangyao asked.

“Jin Zixuan doesn’t die if you can help it, and Jiang Cheng becomes Chief Cultivator if someone has to have the job,” Nie Mingjue said. “I do not want to get stuck with it, and anyway we’re getting him his head disciple back; he can deal.”

Those conditions seemed reasonable, although the Jin Zixuan bit might be a little annoying.

“And in exchange for that, you’ll play along?”

Nie Mingjue nodded. He had that long-suffering look again. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

-

“A-Yao, you’re sure you really don’t mind?” Jin Zixuan asked a third time. “I’m sure this wasn’t what you thought you’d be getting when you were accepted to Lanling Jin –”

“What part?” Jin Guangyao asked. “Our father engaging in crimes and trying to blame me for them, no one believing him and deposing him as sect leader, or the fact that you’d like me to be sect leader for a few years while you focus on raising your children?”

“…all of that, really,” Jin Zixuan said. “Mostly the last one, though.”

“I promise I don’t mind at all,” Jin Guangyao said, and smiled.

On the contrary, he thought. This is what I wanted.

[tangledinmdzs]

Hello. Can I request a reaction for LXC, JGY, and Wen Ning with a physically affectionate reader? I personally am all about the physical displays of affection such as hugging, cuddling, braiding my friends hair, etc. I wonder how they will react or if they will even allow it, especially if the reader is just a friend. Whether the reader is a friend or s/o, is up to you. I don’t mind either. Thank you.

hi there!

me too, i’m a very big hugger person, so i get you. specifically for Wen Ning, i’m going to be writing him when he was still alive, even though he’s just as chill as a fierce corpse (when he’s not possessed by the flute aha)

i’d be happy to write for you!

hope you all enjoy!

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Lan Xichen

the fire crackles in the night, 

you stare, almost lost in the orange and red of the flames

you had just finished your designated night hunt, aiding with the Lan sect as you always did 

but even though the demon had been defeated hours ago

your heart still beats too loudly in your chest,

and you can’t still the shaking in your hands 

because it had been so close to-

“y/n,”

you blink as you look up, clasping your hands together in your lap to find the gentle voice

Lan Xichen, your long time friend, companion, meets your eyes

your shaking hands don’t go unnoticed by him

even when you hide them in the long folds of your sleeves

“Xichen...” you greet quietly as he takes a seat next to you

the pops and cracks from the fire serve as the buffer between the lack of conversation that you both make

you don’t know why you are so scared after this particular night hunt, having been a cultivator (a good cultivator) for so long, having confronted death on a handful of occasions-

the rest of your thoughts are halted when you feel a warm hand on your lap, clasping your shaking hands hidden in your sleeves

you turn to look at him, a quiet scared look 

which he answers by leading you to lean into his side

his long robes come to wrap around you, warmer than the fire before you

with your head on his chest, you hear his heartbeat

“i’m alright, y/n, i promise,” Lan Xichen reassures you, 

although it had been close before, it wasn’t close enough to injure him

kill him

you nod quietly, holding Lan Xichen’s promise close 

Jin Guangyao

you don’t expect the hand that comes up to brush your hair out of your face

you jolt your head up, making the strand of hair that was being tucked away fall to the front of your vision once more

Jin Guangyao, donned in his elaborate, lavish, golden robes, smiles his dimpled smile at you

looking at him as he moves your hair out of your face for a second time, you see the gentleness of his touch,

a gentleness that should not be there

“thank you, master,” you say quietly, because you are a servant and could never have accepted such help from him that way

he simply, silently, shakes his head, stands up tall from your deep bow 

you hold your tray in your hands, fingers clenched over the handles of the wooden designs as you depart back to the kitchen

your forehead burns with the phantom touch

that his hands had left behind

Wen Ning

“do you think it looks alright?”

Wen Ning looks up at your question, has to sniffle a laugh at the sight of your hair

you had tried to braid your hair by yourself, but Wen Ning guesses since your hair is so long, it’s a bit harder 

especially at the top

Wen Ning doesn’t have a full laugh on his face when you suddenly turn around to face him, though you catch the residual grin morphing into an impassive, neutral face

“oh, Wen Ning? does it look bad? why are you laughing?” you whine out and he has to smile and shake his head at you

“it doesn’t, it’s just a little messy” Wen Ning tells you quiet and honesty and you huff out an annoyed sigh

“i’m never going to get it, where’s jie?” you ask, referring to Wen Qing, though her younger brother just shrugs

you sigh, stand up to look out towards the awning of the port you’re sitting at,

Wen Qing was no where to be seen

“can you braid the back of my hair for me? Wen Ning?”

and he looks at you look you’ve grown two heads,

“please! i have to go to the marketplace soon” you tell him and Wen Ning doesn’t quite sigh be he looks close to doing it

“don’t tell me jie has never asked you to braid her hair for her,” you tell him and he shakes his head, because of course Wen Qing has, they were each other’s only siblings

and that seals his fate,

“so help me, please, Wen Ning?” you ask, staring at him with puppy dog eyes

he’s quiet

“ge?” you try and Wen Ning cringes, waves you back to sit in front of him

you skip over and take a seat, getting comfortable as Wen Ning takes out your sloppily inserted hair clip and begins to part your hair again

you’re not surprised by the gentle and smoothness of his fingers 

you’re only surprised at why he didn’t braid for you sooner

[disastermages]

[read it on ao3]

cw for cheating, but with each other, not on each other

--

"Wei-xiong, have you heard about Lan Wangji?"

Nie Huaisang's voice is clear and pressing through the phone as Wei Wuxian leans one shoulder against the door of his apartment, the bag of groceries still hanging in the other hand while he searches for his keys.

The last time Wei Wuxian had seen Lan Wangji had been in his hotel room, they hadn't been able to go to Wei Wuxian’s place, he'd still been sharing an apartment with Wen Qing, Wen Ning, and their little cousin. It would have killed the mood entirely.

"I still have his number blocked, Nie-xiong." Wei Wuxian answers honestly, the door finally giving in with just enough bargaining.

Both Lan Wangji’s arms and his bed had been warm until Lan Wangji’s phone rang, and he'd told the person on the other end, his husband on the other end, that he was alone, and suddenly, Lan Wangji’s bed had nearly frozen Wei Wuxian in place.

He'd waited until Lan Wangji had hung up to climb out of it, pulling the sheet around himself, even as Lan Wangji's suddenly too heavy arms wrapped around his middle.

"Wei Ying, come back?" A steady line of kisses had started down Wei Wuxian’s back, but he'd pulled away and wrapped the sheet tighter around himself before he turned and smiled sadly down at Lan Wangji.

"Lan Zhan, listen, I'm going to shower, and then I'm going home." Lan Wangji did not and does not love his husband, Wei Wuxian knew it, but it hadn't made it any easier to choke down what they had just done.

Anyone who didn't know him wouldn't have been able to see the change in Lan Wangji’s face, but Wei Wuxian had watched sadness creep into his eyes. He hadn't had the heart to stop Lan Wangji from grabbing onto his wrist. "It is too late and dangerous for you to go back, stay here." With me, hadn't been said, but it had been there all the same when Wei Wuxian had begun the task of peeling Lan Wangji’s hand off of him.

"You know I can't, Lan Zhan, your husband wouldn't like it." His words had been cruel, but Wei Wuxian had still tucked a lock of hair behind Lan Wangji’s ear, though he hadn't set that hand on his cheek the way he might have in any other situation. "I'll message you, so you'll know I got home alright, but you won't be able to message me back."

"Why not?" Lan Wangji had looked far too hurt and far too young right then. It had nearly broken Wei Wuxian’s resolve.

"Because I'm going to block you, on everything." He couldn't leave any possibilities, Wei Wuxian had known that first, before anything else.

"Wei Ying,"

"That's enough, Lan Zhan."

When Wei Wuxian had left, Lan Wangji had trailed behind him, all the way to the sidewalk outside of the hotel, as if he had hoped Wei Wuxian would change his mind at the last minute.

He almost had.

Now, there's a pause from Nie Huaisang, his end of the call going almost completely silent, save for the sound of him tapping his fan against something.

"His divorce was finalized." Nie Huaisang says finally, the words running together as if he'd been holding his breath.

They startle Wei Wuxian enough to make him run into the coffee table, his shin smarting while he swears and Nie Huaisang calls his name.

"I heard Er-ge talking to Da-ge about it, Er-ge said that Lan Wangji mentioned you, but then I got caught." Despite everything, Wei Wuxian still chuckles at Nie Huaisang's flippancy. It hadn't changed between high school, college, or post-grad, Wei Wuxian is grateful for it.

"He hasn't been divorced for a month yet, Nie-xiong, I don't think he'll come knocking at my door to whisk me away any time soon." Lan Wangji might not come for him at all, and Wei Wuxian doesn't want that thought to hurt as much as it does, but it's easily pushed back down while he puts his groceries away.

It isn’t until later, while Wei Wuxian is cooking his dinner, when he hears a knock at his door, and it sounds all too familiar not to make him freeze where he stands. He thinks about standing in place until whoever is at his door leaves, but the sizzling of the prawns in the pan pulls Wei Wuxian back to the present. He turns down the heat until it hovers, small and blue, before he wipes his hands on a towel and walks towards the door.

He doesn’t need to look through the peephole to know who was standing on the other side.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji offers in way of greeting, surprise lightening his eyes to something soft. Wei Wuxian feels something twist in his chest.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian hears his own voice, but he doesn’t feel his mouth move, “you cut your hair.” Lan Wangji’s hair had been a dark waterfall down his back the last time Wei Wuxian had seen him, but now it’s cropped short, and Wei Wuxian wants to mourn the length it had been.

“You grew yours out.” Lan Wangji doesn’t take a step into his apartment, but he does start to reach for Wei Wuxian, his hand coming up slowly to catch the long end and run his thumb over it. This time, Wei Wuxian feels his mouth open and close, trying and failing to find something to say, but the point of contact is too much, and his words catch in his throat.

Something crackling and sputtering on the stove stops them both, and Lan Wangji’s hand drops back down to his side.

“My stove is still on.” Wei Wuxian says dumbly, pointing backwards into the apartment.

“Wei Ying has learned to cook?” There’s genuine surprise and curiosity in Lan Wangji’s voice, and Wei Wuxian barks a rough laugh. He hadn’t been able to cook anything without burning it hopelessly and over spicing it the last time Lan Wangji had allowed Wei Wuxian to try to cook for him. He’d had to take over less than halfway through.

“Only a little,” Wei Wuxian assures Lan Wangji, stepping back to allow him inside, though he knows he shouldn’t, “I’m still not as good as Shijie, but it’s okay, no one is.”

Lan Wangji’s cooking had been close, though.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t look back to see if Lan Wangji is following him into the kitchen, he knows he is, and it still sends a shiver down his back, even as Lan Wangji lingers in the doorway behind him. “See! It’s not even a little burned!” That wasn’t completely true, the prawns and the green onions had started to burn, but Wei Wuxian had managed to save them at the last minute, a feat he isn’t sure would have been possible without Lan Wangji on his heels. “Have you eaten yet? The prawns are already cooked, but I haven’t added the tofu yet, I could still make something vegetarian for you.”

What was he doing? He’d sworn he wouldn’t go running back to Lan Wangji again, but now he was inviting him to dinner.

But Lan Wangji had been a married man when Wei Wuxian had promised himself that he wouldn’t go back to him.

Lan Wangji was no longer a married man, though.

Turning to look at him, he catches sight of something soft and molten in Lan Wangji’s eyes, his hand braced tight against the doorway, as if he felt faint.

For a moment, all they can do is stare at one another while Wei Wuxian feels himself begin to soften too, his lips parting.

Finally, Lan Wangji speaks, “I will help Wei Ying cook.”

Everything Wei Wuxian had ever learned about playing host rises up then, he shouldn’t allow Lan Wangji to help, he was a guest, if anything, Wei Wuxian should push him back out into the living room and make him wait on the couch while he finishes up. Lan Wangji is already opening Wei Wuxian’s refrigerator and pulling out various vegetables, though, and he gives Wei Wuxian a look when he sees the state of what had once been a nice head of broccoli.

There’s comfort and familiarity in that particular look.

Wei Wuxian’s kitchen is barely large enough for his own chaos while cooking, but with the two of them working, it’s impossible not to feel the heat coming off Lan Wangji’s back against his own. He wants to press himself into it, just like he used to.

They work in silence, passing the cutting board back and forth awkwardly in the small space. Lan Wangji’s cuts and his knife skills are good, they always had been, but it’s with a smug satisfaction that Wei Wuxian notes that their skills at cutting up vegetables are evenly matched.

Lan Wangji lingers behind him, even after he’s finished his task, his eyes bearing into the back of Wei Wuxian’s head.

Before, Lan Wangji would have wrapped his arms around Wei Wuxian from behind, his nose would have nuzzled into his neck, and Wei Wuxian would have been greedy for it. It’s almost a comfort to know that he and Lan Wangji are just as unsure of each other now.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says softly, his fingers ghosting along the sleeve of Wei Wuxian’s hoodie, but not touching just yet, “come back to Gusu with me.”

A bitter laugh catches against the lump in Wei Wuxian’s throat, but they knock the words forward, “You haven’t been divorced that long, Er-gege, don’t you want to see if I’m really what you want? You don’t want to think about it?”

This isn’t a conversation they should be having in the kitchen, Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to argue in this kitchen.

“I have only thought of Wei Ying for six years, I know you are who I want. I do not need to think about it.”

“The plates are in the cabinet behind you, could you grab them, Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian asks, instead of answering. Filling his mouth with silken tofu and prawns and all the vegetables Lan Wangji had tipped into Wei Wuxian’s pan would keep him from literally and physically jumping into Lan Wangji’s arms.

If Wei Wuxian were to turn around, he’s almost certain that he would see hurt in Lan Wangji’s eyes now, but he takes the plates from him blindly, murmuring thanks under his breath before he starts plating their dinner and directing Lan Wangji to the drawer of utensils.

Lan Wangji doesn’t fumble and open the drawer full of sauce packets and napkins first, he opens the right drawer on the first try.

“Your uncle won’t like it.” Wei Wuxian says, continuing the conversation after their empty plates have been stacked on top of each other on the coffee table. Lan Wangji hadn’t objected to eating on the couch with the TV playing on a low volume.

To his surprise, Lan Wangji deflates, “I followed my uncle’s wishes for eight years, but it did not change anything. I love you, Wei Ying. That is all there is.”

They hadn’t used that word for it before, Wei Wuxian hadn’t allowed it, because Lan Wangji had been married to someone else, but now, Lan Wangji wraps both of his hands possessively around one of Wei Wuxian’s, his thumbs stroking back and forth. It’s a plea, Wei Wuxian knows it is.

His mouth hangs open again, but this time Wei Wuxian does not reach and scrabble for the words, “It’s too late for you to go home, Lan Zhan, stay here tonight.” Wei Wuxian knows he shouldn’t, but he leans in close, his free hand coming to rest on Lan Wangji’s forearm.

“Will Wei Ying be here when I wake up?” Lan Wangji leans in, unafraid of what Wei Wuxian might do because of it.

“This is my apartment, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian laughs, and Lan Wangji’s hands tighten, squeezing and hopeful, “shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

“You should.” Lan Wangji agrees, allowing their lips to brush as he speaks.

“Lan Zhan, will you be here when I wake up?” Wei Wuxian asks, only half serious as he closes the distance left between them, his hand coming away from Lan Wangji’s forearm to rest on his neck, just like it used to.

“I will be here when Wei Ying wakes up.” Lan Wangji sounds breathless when they pull apart, but he makes his promise all the same, sealing it with another kiss, far sweeter than the one that had come before it.

There’s comfort and familiarity in it.

[stiltonbasket]

See, I'm the terrible person who would ask for a kidnapping situation in the Renouncement verse regardless of Sizhui's feelings on the matter =D

(author’s note: please please reblog if you can, since that’s how we get prompts for future chapters!)

When Wei Wuxian opens his eyes, he is dimly aware that the last time he was conscious, he was somewhere else. 

In fact (unless he is very much mistaken) he was out on a night hunt with Sizhui and Jingyi; the three of them went to investigate a demon boar near the border between Gusu and Zhoushan, and Ouyang Zizhen and Jin Ling both joined them there. Wei Wuxian went scouting ahead with Chenqing as he usually does, cautioning the juniors to keep back until he could get a good look at the beast and decide if it was something the boys could safely defeat, and then he remembers slapping at the back of his neck to kill a biting insect and finding a silver needle there instead. 

And then the world went black around him, dissolving into a shadowy realm of pain and invisible snarling creatures only a few feet away, and someone laughing—laughing from somewhere high above him, while Wei Wuxian lifted his feet to run and discovered that they were chained to the ground. 

And after that, there was nothing. 

“Lan Zhan?” he croaks, reaching out until his hand catches on soft silk and then at the end of what feels like his husband’s forehead ribbon. “Lan Zhan, where are we?”

Someone pulls back a curtain, at that, letting so much light into the room that Wei Wuxian covers his eyes, and someone else bursts into tears, while a third person (most likely Jingyi, he decides) flings himself out the door and yells for Lan Xichen. 

“Jingyi,” Wei Wuxian moans, vaguely aware of the quivering hands helping him sit upright against a pillow. “Not so loud, I—”

I’m in the jingshi. 

How did I get back here…?

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says—and oh, Lan Zhan is here, climbing up onto the bed beside him and embracing him so tightly that Wei Wuxian can scarcely breathe. “I should have come with you, I should have known something would go wrong!” 

He must be the one who was crying, Wei Wuxian realizes, because tears are trickling onto his head, and every part of Lan Zhan’s body is shaking so hard that he can feel it through the six layers of robes his husband seems to have wrapped him in.

“Tell me where it hurts, xingan. We bandaged the bites, and the scratches, but I—I could not wake you to ask if anything else had gone wrong, even though Xiongzhang was certain you were only in shock, and you—”

“What happened?” he manages to say at last, after forcing his eyes fully open and glancing around their bedroom. Lan Qiren’s shadow is just visible behind the privacy screen, sitting at Lan Zhan’s qin with his hands frozen on the strings and so clearly relieved that he has actually begun to slouch a little, and Wei Wuxian can hear Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling shouting at each other (or possibly at some poor Lan healer) on the porch outside. “A-Yuan and I went after a demon boar, not—not—”

“You were kidnapped,” his husband whispers. “Someone had lured the demon boar out of Zhoushan and into Gusu territory to trap you, they knew I was away in Qinghe with Xiongzhang, and so you were stolen away the moment you left Sizhui’s sight in the forest. He heard footsteps leading away from the spot, but he thought they were yours, and so—”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. “That doesn’t make any sense, Lan Zhan. How did they even get hold of me?”

“Xiongzhang found a needle-prick in your neck,” Lan Zhan tells him, as Wei Wuxian puts his hand up to feel for it. “It was laced with some kind of seizing poison, he said. And the dose was low enough for a non-cultivator to be affected by it, which means that they knew about your golden core.”

That would explain it, certainly, because when Wei Wuxian woke in that other place—the place with chains and slavering beasts and cries that sounded like they came from human throats, though they were not human in the slightest—someone had said something about his golden core, from far overhead so that he could scarcely hear it, and then there were teeth sinking into his arms, his shoulders, right before he thrust his hands straight into something cold and sticky like old rotting meat and closed his hands around bone. 

“Come back, sweetheart,” he hears his husband call. “I’m here, Wei Ying. I’m here.”

“How did I get out?” he asks, when Lan Zhan brings him a cup of mint tea to settle his stomach and produces another blanket from his sleeve to drape around Wei Wuxian’s shoulders. “And who kidnapped me, anyway?”

“Someone whose father and grandfather died at Bu Ye Tian, from what we discovered. There were many others involved, all with grievances against you, and from their accents I believe some might have been connected to Lanling Jin.”

“...You mean you don’t know for sure?”

“They attempted to stand in my way when I reached the place you were being held,” Lan Zhan tells him. “I—did not see any reason to preserve their lives, at the time. The few who surrendered were questioned by Nie Huaisang, and we thought he would turn them over to Gusu Lan to face justice, but instead he requested Xiongzhang’s permission to execute them.”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes go wide. “And Xichen-ge let him?”

“Do you know what they did to you?” Lan Zhan asks, instead of answering the question. “Can you even remember?”

“Ah, Lan Zhan, you know I have a terrible memory. I barely even remember the last siege on Qishan, because of all the resentment I was channeling, and it couldn’t have been that bad if you—”

“They threw you into a cellar filled with fierce corpses and left you there to die,” his husband chokes, openly weeping now as he pulls Wei Wuxian back into his arms and sobs into his hair. “You—they had gagged you, so you would not be able to whistle—” and that explains the strange raw feeling of Wei Wuxian’s mouth, now that he thinks about it— “and they left Chenqing behind on the spot where they took you, because they could neither break it nor take it with them, and you had nothing to fight the corpses with but the leg bones you tore out of the rotten ones—”

He does remember that, oddly enough. 

“How did you find me, then?” he wonders. “How was there even time?”

“I was already on my way back to the Cloud Recesses, and when I reached it I found Shufu and Xiongzhang arranging a search party. “Sizhui summoned Wen Ning, and I followed. It was—when we reached you, it was almost—”

His face twists, and another river of tears drips down his face and soaks Wei Wuxian’s blankets. 

“I almost lost you again, sweetheart,” he whispers, “and it was my fault, again.”

___

Several hours later, after Lan Xichen examines him and declares him perfectly healthy aside from the bruises and corpse bites, Wei Wuxian finally makes his way to the kitchen table with A-Yu whimpering in his arms and sinks down onto a bench while Lan Zhan prepares a serving of plain white egg congee with tiny slivers of diced meat in it, seasoned with only salt and pepper because Wei Wuxian had been sick when Jingyi and Sizhui brought him a bowl of his favorite spicy guqiao mixian earlier that afternoon. 

He would have loved to soothe the uneasy feeling in his chest by burning it out with chili oil, but his stomach had rebelled—probably because of the corpse-stench he spent hours breathing last night, Lan Xichen suggested—and denied him that comfort, too. 

“Don’t cry,” he murmurs, rocking his son back and forth as Lan Zhan puts a spoonful of warm porridge between his lips and then feeds some to Xiao-Yu. “See, your Papa made congee for us, Yu’er. Be a good boy and eat some, ah?”

Xiao-Yu turns his head away and wails into Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. “No! A-Yu wants noodles!”

“Xiao-Yu, baobei, it’s been a long day, and Papa is very tired,” Wei Wuxian pleads, picking up the spoon himself and holding it up to the baby’s stubborn mouth. “It’s good, sweetheart. Try some.”

“Hush, my love,” Lan Zhan says quietly. “You must eat enough, Wei Ying, since you have had nothing since last night. Wait here for a moment, and I will fetch the noodles. He wants the guqiao mixian A-Yuan brought, that is all, and there is plenty left over.”

And he was beside himself when his A-Niang did not come home, no matter how much he cried for him, Lan Zhan doesn’t say. He watched his own mother die before you adopted him, and when Jingyi returned alone...

“I won’t go anywhere again,” he promises—close to Xiao-Yu’s tiny ears, but with his eyes fixed on Lan Zhan’s. “A-Die won’t leave you, A-Yu. Don’t be scared, hm?”

“Xiao-Yu was scared!” the toddler sobs, rubbing his button nose against Wei Wuxian’s arm and leaving a damp trail of tears all down his sleeve. “A-Niang, no go!”

“I won’t, I won’t. Don’t cry, Xiao-Yu, I’m here!”

Lan Zhan pulls them both into his arms, at that, and the three of them sit together near the hearth until the porridge goes cold. Lan Zhan still insists on feeding it to them, though, and then on tucking them both into bed with Wei Wuxian sleeping in the middle so A-Yu and Lan Zhan can keep him warm.

(He loves his family so very much, especially in times like these.)

[ceescedasticity]

Jin Guangyao’s Hoarding Problem, part 4

part 1, part 2, part 3

Jin Guangyao is having a really good week, and then suddenly he is having a really bad week.

This is mostly his father's fault. But he does feel that Madam Qin really could have chosen to share this information literally any time earlier in the courtship. Even if it was after Qin Su was pregnant, more time might have enabled him to come up with something! Even if she weren't pregnant calling off the wedding this late would be a significant scandal — what was Madam Qin thinking? Probably she wasn't thinking. No one around him ever thinks.

(He's not exactly thinking his clearest, either, but he doesn't realize that.)

He wants to get out of it. (The marriage still has its good points, if the secret can be guaranteed — but I don't think he would want a marriage which could only produce children who 'had to die'.)

(He could order Wen Qing to prepare an abortifacient, but then, he could in theory procure an abortifacient in any timeline. Honestly I wouldn't even be surprised if Madam Jin quietly keeps a stock on hand in case any of the household staff has a problem. And it seems like something Meng Yao ought to know about, doesn't it? But perhaps Meng Shi insisted he shouldn't pay attention to such filthy things, and he knows no more than most young gentlemen. Still, he could get his hands on one somehow — doing so discreetly is a challenge but not an insurmountable one. The trouble is that without Qin Su's forewarned cooperation, any termination of the pregnancy will be obviously a failed pregnancy, and marrying her is still the only honorable thing, but now with an added taint of sin for premarital sex and the shame of failing to cover it up, he can hear the remarks about his mother already.)

(He could have Qin Su non-fatally poisoned — enough to make her very sick and put off the wedding. But medical examination might reveal the pregnancy, and too long a delay definitely would.) (If he were willing to entertain the idea of telling Qin Su, this would be a good way to buy time to talk. There are so many more possibilities when she's not one of the people who has to be lied to.)

(He could have Qin Su fatally poisoned, and make sure no postmortem exam found the pregnancy, or at least that no one talked about it. But he doesn't have a scapegoat set up for a murder, and Madam Qin might suspect him.) (He also doesn't want to kill her, but that's not what deters him.)

(He could have Qin Su kidnapped, into the Dizang or elsewhere. But he doesn't have a scapegoat ready for that, either, and that still doesn't fix the pregnancy.)

(Now, if he could have her kidnapped, terminate the pregnancy, somehow alter her memory so she doesn't remember there ever was a pregnancy, somehow alter her memory so she doesn't remember the kidnapping, 'rescue' her, give the impression she's temporarily lost her wits from the experience and has probably also been ruined, well, the only compassionate thing is to cancel the wedding, cancel the engagement, send her home to her parents, terrible tragedy, maybe someday she can find happiness elsewhere. If he had a way to alter memories that quickly and precisely he might go with this despite the lack of prepared scapegoat.)

He decides the best option is to go through with the wedding and… deal with it later. Somehow.

(Highlights/"highlights" of the wedding celebrations include, but are not limited to:

It is Jiang Yanli's first major social event since her mourning period concluded. She spends most of her time trying to get Jiang Cheng to stay still long enough for her to talk to him. She's not mad at him!

Lan Xichen averts a disaster when he overhears and shuts down some speculation on whether Jiang Yanli will marry again — she'd have to come with a pretty hefty dowry, what with the health problems and so-so looks and rumored madness — before Jiang Wanyin hears any of it.

Nie Huaisang gets blackout drunk and throws up in the banquet hall, but not before laying the groundwork for five different problems with minor sects he can beg San-ge and Er-ge to help him with.

Su Minshan is totally unaware that Jin Guangyao's good week has become a terrible week and cries tears of joy at his benefactor's good fortune.

Sect Leader Yao gets tipsy and attempts to tell a bawdy story. It does not work very well.

Jin Ling is prevented from inviting himself to the banquet and throws a screaming tantrum not quite out of hearing.

Jin Guangshan comments on Qin Su's hips.

Jin Guangshan offers a minor Sect Leader's daughter jewelry to meet him in an inn in Lanling.

After both of the above incidents Madam Jin glares daggers at Jin Guangyao for some reason.

In fact Madam Jin glares daggers at Jin Guangyao the entire time.

Using the rebuilt Seal, Xue Yang sneaks into Jinlintai proper and steals an entire dessert course out of the kitchen.

On the plus side, he doesn't kill anyone and isn't spotted.

Congratulations!)

(Jiang Yanli eventually corners Jiang Cheng and tells him she isn't mad at him, and he's doing a wonderful job, and as soon as she can get the idea past the Jins she wants to take Jin Ling to Lotus Pier for at least a few months. Jiang Cheng is dubious about the first two assertions but can at least appreciate the third.)

Back in the Dizang it's been convenient that courtship and wedding preparations have occupied so much of Jin Guangyao's attention, because the preliminary results of the 'crying' research have been slightly more disruptive/strange than anticipated. It turns out that it is indeed possible to manually activate the tear glands of a fierce corpse, either by acupuncture needles or by talisman. After this, they will stream for four to six hours no matter what anyone does, which also gives them runny noses. After that, though, their eyes will water when they didn't before. When Wen Ning went through the procedure, he found that he could get tears triggered by emotions. He also discovered that crying gives him a dry mouth — the initial four-hour rain of tears gave him such a dry mouth he couldn't speak for a while.

This spun into everyone getting pulled into a study of 'how do fierce corpses regulate their moisture levels'. Water ghouls don't get waterlogged and fall to pieces. Fierce corpses in deserts don't desiccate and fall to pieces. They must regulate somehow. Missing moisture has to come from somewhere, and extra moisture has to go somewhere, and no one has ever looked into how before. It's disgusting. Xue Yang's never had so much non-homicidal fun in his life. (Well, a little homicidal, since he made the corpses, but not currently actively homicidal.)

Besides Xue Yang, all of this has been productive for Wen Qing and Wen Qing, Wei Wuxian is reluctantly fascinated, and Mo Xuanyu is non-reluctantly fascinated. He Zhi and He Jian are not having such a a good time, because all the fierce corpses besides Wen Ning are, you know, their relatives. Mo Xuanyu tries to help by suggesting Xue Yang can swap out the active experimental corpses with some that used to be whichever relatives they hated? There aren't any?! This leads to a discussion of Mo Xuanyu's maternal relatives. Xue Yang offers to kill them if the opportunity arises. Mo Xuanyu doesn't say no.

As soon as Jin Guangyao can get away for a day or two without anyone noticing — some nominal discreet inspection tour — he comes back to the Dizang and brushes off Mo Xuanyu's attempt to present his report on everything that's gone on while Jin Guangyao was busy with courtship and wedding (he doesn't want to think about courtships or weddings). He just goes and orders Wen Qing to invent a poison that can be administered either slowly or in parts, which will make the victim insane with lust and ultimately cause dramatic heart failure, preferably during sexual intercourse.

Wen Qing doesn't ask what his father did to finally push him over the edge, but it's a struggle. She does point out those are extremely specific requirements and she's not an herbalist. She will try if ordered to, but…

Hmmm. Yes. Good point. Perhaps what we want here is a curse. Yiling Laozu, design me a curse.

Wei Wuxian: What? I don't do curses, that was a false accusation—

Wei Wuxian's internal monologue: 'Mad with lust' curses exist, demons hit commoners with them all the time. I don't know the mechanics — well, I have a few ideas how it might work now that I think about it — I don't know how they work, though. A curse to kill someone the next time they have sex should be fairly straightforward, would be more straightforward if I'd gotten around to having sex, not bringing that up. No, I'm not bringing any of this up, I'm going to try to get out of helping Jin Guangyao murder someone. Even if it is probably his father, who deserves it. No. Besides, getting any of this to work on someone with high cultivation would be a challenge— PROBLEM! Would be a problem.

Jin Guangyao leaves him to think about that — for now — and goes down to the cell in the subbasement to (a) look at practically-a-puppet Nie Mingjue and feel smug about his own triumph and superiority, and (b) fantasize about using Nie Mingjue to kill Jin Guangshan.

He sends a message to Qin Su saying he's been injured, but please don't tell anyone, he doesn't want to show weakness. When he gets back, he claims the injury rendered him incapable of sex — but she can't tell anyone, she can't, he'll be ruined. Qin Su is dismayed, but vows she will keep the secret and considers him no less her husband for not being able to fulfill that duty. And at least they have the one child on the way! What a blessing.

Yes. A blessing.

(Qin Su keeps her word and doesn't tell anyone about the 'injury'. She does tell Jiang Yanli, in confidence, that her marriage isn't quite turning out as she expected it to.)

(Meanwhile Madam Jin has nothing against Qin Su personally, but is very determined that everyone remember Jin Guangyao's wife is not on the same level as other Madams Jin. Jiang Yanli does her best to mitigate it, but she still isn't taken as seriously as she should be. When it becomes known Qin Su is pregnant Madam Jin's attitude sours further.)

(Jiang Yanli is privately of the opinion that Qin Su is welcome to be preeminent Madam Jin; she just wants to go back to Yunmeng for good and have A-Ling adopted as a Jiang. Sadly that definitely won't happen unless Jin Guangshan and Madam Jin are both dead.) (Not that she'd be so unfilial as to hope for that.) (Much.)

(Madam Qin dies, somewhere in here. Jin Guangyao is nothing but relieved.) (Did he have something to do with it, besides causing distress by going ahead with the marriage? We may never know.)

Jin Guangyao introduces He Lei to Qin Su, although obviously not under that name. A-Lei is the mute half-wit sister of a loyal servant of his, he says; the man is often away on business so Jin Guangyao promised to find his sister safe and honorable employment — a touching story.

Qin Su promises to be kind to poor half-wit mute A-Lei, and is very patient with her inexperience as a lady's maid and shy nervousness.

Madam Jin not so much. Despite Qin Su's poor taste in husbands, she is still a gentlewoman and deserves better servants than a mangy stray that son of a prostitute brought in, probably out of a brothel.

Jiang Yanli has to try to mitigate this, too. She also makes a few suggestions about ways A-Lei could communicate without speaking — pointing to pictures, perhaps? Hand gestures? Pantomime isn't very dignified, but they ought to let A-Lei express herself…

He Lei runs away from any such suggestions. She's not willing to 'speak' when Jin Guangyao doesn't want her to and jeopardize her siblings.

Jiang Yanli is disappointed, but respects her shyness.

(Nie Huaisang is not going to respect her shyness, especially when he's mostly sure he's seen her among Jinlintai's servants some time before her official appearance, but for the moment he's biding his time.)

He Lei goes to extreme lengths to avoid Jin Guangshan.

Meanwhile Xue Yang hears that Wen Qing is going to see if she can do anything for Wen Ning's sense of taste, next, and "helps" by providing a half-dozen fresh tongues for her to dissect.

(Wei Wuxian's internal monologue: —just mathematically there have to be at least a few resentful ghosts who have it out for Jin Guangshan with sex-related grievances. Now if you could both locate them, and then use their motivation to direct enough other ghosts to overcome Jin Guangshan's level of cultivation… Well, I could, if I had Chenqing and the Seal. Not sure how you'd package it as a curse— Not that I'm trying to package it as a curse this is idle speculation!)

[butterflyflowflicker]

Alas for the Days Gone By (Xi wang ri)

Alas for the days gone by! when I was trusted,

And received the king's decrees to publish to the world;

When I made our ancestors' achievements shine for posterity,

And made plain whatever was doubtful in the laws.

The land was rich and strong and its laws stood firm,

And all was left to the Loyal Servant, while each day my lord took his ease.

The secret affairs of state I carried locked in my heart.

In those days, even if I was wrong, my lord did not correct me.

But though my heart was pure and free from blemish,

I met with slanderers who were jealous of me.

My lord was full of anger towards his servant,

Not waiting first to make sure whether the thing was so.

For over my lord's wits these men had set a screen of darkness,

Bemusing him with empty words and falsely deceiving him.

And he, without examining to sound out the truth of it,

Removed me to a far-off place and did not think of me,

But trusted the filthy words of my traducers,

Puffed up his anger and found fault in me.

How innocent was I, his Loyal Servant!

Yet I was slandered and charges made agaisnt me.

I was ashamed of the honest daylight,

And hid myself in the dark to escape from it.

I will stand above the Yuan's or the Xiang's dark waters,

And steel myself to plunge in the flowing stream.

I can bear to destroy my body and wipe out my name for ever,

But it grieves me that my lord is blinded and cannot see the light.

Having no measure to judge men by,

He causes the fragrant herb to hide in the marsh's tangle.

How can I express my feelings and show my faithfulness?

No, I will gladly die, and without repining.

Since I am screened from my lord and thrust into obscurity,

I, his Loyal Servant, am left with no other way to turn.

I have heard it said that Bo-li Xi was a prisoner;

And Yi Yin cooked in a kitchen;

Lü Wang was a butcher at Zhao-ge;

And Ning Qi sang as he fed his ox.

If they had not met with their Tang and Wu, their Huan and Mu,

How would the world speak of them and know their names?

Wu trusted the slanderer's tongue and did not ponder,

So Zi Xu died; but afterwards he was sorry.

Jie Zi-tui was loyal; when he starved himself

Lord Wen remembered, and hastened after him.

He made Mount Jie a holy place and set bans about it

As requitement for his surpassing service.

When he thought of their former close companionship,

He put on white weeds and wept for him.

Some men are honest and die martyrs;

Some men are cheats and are never doubted.

You would not look carefully and act upon the truth,

But listened to the lies of slanderers.

Now fragrant and foul are mixed together,

Who, though he laboured all night, could discern between them?

Why have the sweet flowers died so soon?

A light frost descended and mowed them all down,

You are so deaf to reason, so benighted,

That slanderers and flatterers daily wax in your favour.

From of old those envious of the good

Have called orchid and azalea unfit to wear at a girdle.

Jealous of true beauty's fragrance,

Mo Mu preens herself on her comeliness;

But if you have Xi Shi's lovely face,

The slanderer will get in and supplant you.

I wished to set forth my thoughts and explain my actions:

I little dreamed that this would be held a crime.

That I was unjustly treated is clear as daylight,

Plain as the stars above in their constellations.

To harness swift steeds and go out coursing

And, without bit or rein, try to keep oneself in a chariot;

Or on a raft to drift downstream with the current

And, without boat-sweep, try to keep afloat -

When you turn your back on all sanctions and let your sole heart rule,

In comparison it is just like this.

I would gladly die straight away and meet dissolution,

If I did not fear that a greater ill might follow.

With my words unsaid I could plunge into the waters,

But for thought of my blinded lord and his lack of understanding.

- Qu Yuan, translation by David Hawkes (from The Songs of the South: An Ancient Chinese Anthology of Poems By Qu Yuan And Other Poets)

[aki-draws-things]

NaNoWriMo 2020 #12

Yesterday tumblr was uncooperative with the formatting so here comes the angst today instead!!!

Plenty of good, nice and cute memories and then, here and there, the heartbreak of the aftermath of the last two chapters!

Day: 12/11/2020

Prompt: Grief

Ship: Mingjue/Zonghui

Word Count: 2745

Grief was weird, huaisang thought. Grief would bring up memories he thought had been lost many years before, grief brought them up to the surface like waves of an invisible ocean. Huaisang never saw the ocean, he never sailed in the sea, not even for a trip, he didn't know how tall waves could get and how painful when they crashed down. Grief taught him in the most unexpected way. 

The day his parents' died he was at school. Mother was supposed to pick him up and take him to get an ice cream like every Friday afternoons. - well, it was MingJue's mother, he had learned, but his own mother wasn't there anymore so she was his mom too. Other kids in his class didn't understand. He did. - mingjue showed up instead, hours before the lessons were over. He took his backpack on a shoulder and grabbed huaisang's hand. 

"where's mama?" he didn't answer, he kept walking holding his hand a little too tight. "Da-ge? Are we going to take an ice cream together? It's ice cream day." mingjue nodded, he looked dazed, distracted, but he still took him to his favorite place to take his favorite ice cream and they sat outside on a little round table in the shape of a flower to eat it. 

"as long as I can spare him from that." mingjue thought. "as long as he can still be happy…" he was too young, he knew it, but he could try. He would never let a stranger take his little brother away, shove him in a house for orphaned children like he had no one in the world. Huaisang had him. And he would keep him by his side, at all costs. 

"Da-ge, try it!" huaisang hand came into his vision with a little spoon and some orange colored ice cream. 

"no, I --" 

"it's a new flavor they said. Orange and cinnamon. Try it, it's good!!" it was good, he told him, he lied, his mouth could hardly taste anything that wasn't bile. 

"as long as I can see his smile." 

"Da-ge…?" a sob broke through his throat and he held his little brother close. 

Huaisang didn't remember, years later, the day he found out his parents' died, but he never took that flavor again, it wasn't as good as he once thought and he couldn't explain why. 

ZongHui remembered the day his life changed. He remembered when his brother had left for being adopted and the family that came for him didn't spare a look at ZongHui. Zhuliu tried, to no avail. They had other children of their own, and a niece and nephew to take care of too. Why did they even choose to adopt another one? Why him? Why separate two brothers? Not that zhuliu wasn't grateful to the wen family, of course he was! They gave him a chance to grow in a loving family, with other kids he could call his brothers and sister. He picked wen Ning as a little brother and carried him around because he reminded him of zonghui. He picked him so he would never forget his little brother, so that one day he would find him again. Everyday he prayed his life was just as good. 

Zonghui's life changed the day HuaLing, one of the volunteers, took her best friends' (and lovers) son with her. He was six and he immediately went to pick zonghui under his wing, they soon became friends, best friends, mingjue wanted to follow her to the orphanage everytime she went and zonghui would light up when he walked through the doors. Something in the little boy called to mingjue, like an ancient instinct, something tying them together. Zonghui felt the same, though he couldn't explain it, mingjue wasn't simply filling the hole zhuliu left, it was something else, something more, it was piece of his soul finally whole again. But they were kids, they didn't understand those kind of feelings just yet. 

It happened the same when huaisang was born. All mingjue felt for a couple of days was heartbreak, he loved HuaLing like his own mother, she taught little songs and recipes that she knew he loved, she was the reason he met zonghui in the first place. He loved her and she was dead. Then his father put a little bundle of blankets in his arms and huaisang looked at him and yawned. Mingjue swore he would sell the world for him. He swore he would die for him. Huaisang never knew that. 

Finding his brother again had been zhuliu's aim for so many years but he only succeeded when they were both older. He missed his childhood and teen years, he missed so much, they had so much to catch for. Finding him had been almost accidental. Wen Qing asked him to go pick he brother from a friend's house, when he arrived the A-Ning was talking with another boy his age, then five minutes later the other boy's tutor showed up, and zonghui by his side. He stared at him for a little before swallowing and holding out a hand to caress his face. He didn't see him for more than half of his life but he would recognize him everywhere. Brothers had a special bond. 

Wen Qing called when he failed to return home with her brother only to be greeted by a crying face half hidden against a shoulder. 

"give me time Wen-jie. I found my own brother." he cried. 

"I asked you to pick up mine, Zhu'er." she said, fondly. 

He turned the phone to show her Wen Ning chatting with a loud, little group, squished against an older man side, almost hiding against him, comfortably. 

"oh, isn't that Old Nie?" she said, a bit too loudly, enough for mingjue to hear. 

"call me old again and I will personally kidnap NingNing. We're related apparently, Qing-jie!" he shot back.

It didn't take long for zhuliu to know mingjue and decide he liked him. A lot. - It took even less to find out his brother was soon going to marry him. -

“You’re not going to give me the “If you hurt him I’m going to hurt you” speech? I always thought it was a must for older brothers.” MingJue Tildi him once, he briefly contemplated it. Maybe he could give him the speech but—

“I’m pretty sure I would arrive too late if it happened, ZongHui would hurt you himself.” They both knew he wouldn’t, and they both knew MingJue would never willingly bring him any harm, even Zhuliu who was just getting to know him could say that.even him could see the love in the way they looked at each other.

“Arrive too late.” He had jokingly said that day, never thinking one day he would really be too late to save him.

Giving comfort had never been Xichen strength point in truth. They all said he could give great hugs, that he was soft and warm and kind, but when facing an unexpected death such as this he really didn’t know. Words were useless, most words were stupid and seemed coming out from a textbook, nothing truly felt sincere enough. So he squeezed HuaiSang’s arm and gave him a hug, then he remained silent, his eyes briefly meeting YanLi’s in a silent conversation, both close enough to MingJue ever since school days, all three growing up dealing with different levels of troublesome little brothers and trying to raised them right. - Wangji wasn’t that much troublesome in truth, just quiet. Until he met Wei WuXian. - They shared study afternoons and babysitting hours, they grew up together and they were meant to grow old together.

“Tall!!” Wen Ning exclaimed, his eyes wide in surprise. MingJue was ready to crouch down on the floor if that would make Wen Qing little brother more at ease, it sometimes happened at the orphanage, some of the younger kids were intimidate by his height  and he spent the whole hours kneeling down at they’re level. Not all of them, and Wen Ning was, apparently, not intimidate, just surprise. Before his sister could grab him he sped toward MingJue and crashed against his legs, then he enveloped them in his arms and climbed up to his side, fingers clawing in the fabric of his clothes.

“A-Ning!” But MingJue laughed and held him in his arms before having to pick up huaisang too. “Don’t climb our guests.” Wen Qing laughed.

“Don’t listen to Qing-jie, NingNing. You can climb all you wish.” Wen Ning threw his head against his shoulder happily.

When Huaisang set foot inside the house he knew something wasn’t right. It was in the smell, it was in the way MingJue Stood in front of the kitchen door. Door that looked very much closed for unknown reasons.

“Da-ge…”

“You’re home early.” He looked, and sounded, uncomfortable. Awkward. Like he was hiding something. 

"did you blow up the kitchen trying to make yanli's soup?" 

"aren't you supposed to have lessons until 6?"

"oh my God! You really blew up the kitchen!" huaisang wanted to laugh. Even if at just the sight of his brother with flour over the shirt, and face. And even hair. 

"I… No! Kitchen is perfectly fine! What are you doing home, huaisang?" 

"we finished earlier. Besides, I won't be home for long. Wei Ying is planning a party for tonight." and he was going. See? He even told his brother where he would go, no reasons for forbidding it.

"not tonight." 

Not that his brother's words would stop him anyway. 

"oh come on dage… It's only a party. I promise I won't drink much." 

"not tonight, no. You're staying here." 

Huaisang frowned. He tried to think of what reason would make his brother say that, some bad grades or something in the past week? No, he had been good and even helped at home. He deserved to go. 

"daaaaa-geeee." he complained, loudly, annoying. Fine, he would slip out of the window and--

"it's really important that you stay home tonight. I… It's important huaisang. It is for me." 

"fine." he pouted and turned to go to his room. He had to find some clothes for the night, and plan out to go out and back inside without being heard, and… Probably zonghui would cover for him, he usually did. He would ask. 

"you're thinking of sneaking out." there was something in MingJue's voice, like disappointment. "I'm not asking much… it's just for tonight." he said again, huaisang rolled his eyes. He was about to speak back, he turned and MingJue's expression changed. 

He ran back to the kitchen, threw the door open and opened the oven muttering some prayers under his breath. All that huaisang understood in that moment had been the word rooster. 

"Da-ge… - he called, curious now. - why do you have a rooster in the oven." 

"it's… Our dinner." 

"a… Rooster?" 

"I was craving chicken meat." 

"that's quite a big chicken. And technically not a chicken." 

Huaisang leaned on the door and watched as he moved around the kitchen, not as relaxed as he usually was but agitated, anxious. It finally clicked and huaisang grinned.

"you're going to propose." mingjue blushed and hid his face by opening the fridge. Huaisang laughed louder and walked up to him. "he better say yes cause you will never find someone else like him anywhere." 

Mingjue knew he was right, still he lightly slapped his arm and smiled. 

"I can only hope he will." he whispered softly. 

In the end ZongHui of course said yes, through tears and kisses and more tears of joy, Huaisang never regret staying home that night. When his brother finally picked enough courage he decided that playing with his phone was the perfect thing to do. Well, he was recording the moment in truth but years of sneaking away from MingJue and from several teachers taught him well how to be discreet. Before the evening was over the video and the news had reached all of their friends with no exception.

“Out of everyone I always knew you would have been the next to marry! - YanLi wrote on the older siblings shared chat. - Pay up, Xichen! I won!” She added with a winking emoji.

“You were making bet on who—”

“I only said my brother and hers would be the next to get married. It’s hardly a bet.”

“That until YanLi said, and I quote, “let’s make a bet. MingJue and ZongHui are basically married already anyway, it’s only a matter of time.”, and you answered “Wangji went all the way to the Jiang house to ask permission for courting A-Ying.”. So yes. They were betting.” Wen Qing wrote, complete with actual quotes from previous discussions that MingJue had strangely missed.

“Well… apparently YanLi really won this round.”

“I did! Oh, BTW, that was quite a nice touch with the rooster.”

“And seems like your kitchen wasn’t falling apart either.”

“Hey! I’m not that bad at cooking, you know? Give me some credit.”

YanLi looked at the chat, her fingers hovering over the display of her phone, unsure. She watched at the photo MingJue sent them a couple of days before, the one with a little girl hugging his leg as he was tidying up, her cheek squished against the pants fabric and a smile they could barely see from the position. ZongHui took the photo with MingJue's phone and sent it to them.

“You all keep quiet but can I unofficially introduce you to our newest future addition? Don’t let it slip out, it’s still a surprise. Waiting to inform Huaisang in a couple of days!”

She was tempted to write, asker the other members of the chat how things were, but she closed it instead, the weight of waiting the one answer that would never come was too much to bear.

Nie MingJue cried the moment he saw ZongHui in a red hanfu. Huaisang had been adamant on being the one organizing everything, from the ceremony, to the food, and the clothes. That was how they ended up with a traditional kind of wedding, somehow it felt right, almost perfect, like that was how they had always been meant to be married like.

ZongHui walked up to him and smiled, he laughed as he dried the tears with a sleeve.

“No need for crying. Aren't you happy?”

“That’s exactly why I'm crying.” He held him close, closer, hid his face on ZongHui's head.

The picture of their kiss, hands intertwined in a red ribbon they kept holding for the whole ceremony, had been the background of ZongHui's phone for months. Then he changed it to lock screen so that he only needed to press the button without having to unlock the phone to see it.

He swore to always be by his side, to love him and to guard him from evil. He swore to grow old with him and enjoy every single minute of their lives together.

He did enjoy them, up to the very last instant. But it was never meant to be that short.

“Er-ge…”

Huaisang crawled in the bed in the middle of the afternoon, he collected his legs to the chest and watched the figure laying on the other side of the bed facing the window.

“Er-ge, I made soup… it’s late for lunch, and early for dinner, but you should have some.”

His voice was strained, he sniffled and waited. ZongHui didn’t move nor he acknowledged him.

“Er-ge… do — - Tears welled up in his eyes. Huaisang thought it through for days and that was the only thing that seemed to make sense. - Do you hate me?” He asked and swallowed. “Because… because you know… you should. It was my fault. I asked Da-ge to come out that night and take me home. But I should've stayed home to begin with because you both asked. You should hate me.” Tears fell down his cheek and he hid his face on the knees.

“It’s my fault, Er-ge… you should hate me. You have to hate me. Must! - His sobs grew louder, more and more painful. ZongHui shifted on the mattress, uncomfortable. - I should have never called… It should have been me!”

ZongHui finally turned and raised from the bed, his arms circled HuaiSang's small frame and he held him tight through the tears.

[starshinegoblin]

The Lyrics Trapped in My Mind

Writer’s Note: This is my second attempt at writing MingXicheng and I wrote it for #XichenWeek2020, This is a soulmate au where if one gets a song stuck in their head it’s because their soulmate is singing it. ♥

—-

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes as he set down his brush. The sound of his older brother’s loud annoying flirty voice coming through the closed door of his bedroom to his boyfriend over the phone made him cringe. There was no way he was going to be able to work and listen to that nonsense. He walked across the room to his desk grabbing his airpods connecting them to his cellphone.

As he walked back to his easel he went through his playlists wondering what he wanted to play. It didn’t take him along after he glanced at the painting to give him inspiration. He went to the one song that’d been stuck in his head since Wen Ning had sent him the link to Advance Bravely. The mind plaguing song was Everything Will Say GoodBye by Jason Zhang Jie. He tapped on it and put it on repeat before stuffing the phone in his back pocket. Jiang Cheng felt a renewed sense of inspiration as he started singing the lyrics while he continued to paint. 

“Everything will say goodbye, sometimes calm like the water…” Jiang Cheng sang not caring about being heard, that is until he heard a sharp loud knock on his door. He took one of the pods out, “Yes?”

The door opened to reveal his brother. “So, Lan Zhan, A-Sang and I were wondering if you wanted to join us for dinner and  some drinks?” Wei Wuxian asked, eyes fluttering in a plea for him to say yes . However, Jiang Cheng really wasn’t in the mood to deal with an intoxicated Wei Wuxian or Nie Huaisang (who’s a clinger and a crier at the drop of a hat) in public. Nope, Lan Wangji could deal with that gremlin on his own and though he felt awful for Mo Xuanyu, the man was dating the little beastie, Nie Huaisang.

“Nope.” Jiang Cheng reaffirmed.

“Please? It’s at House Koi. I know you like it there.”

“You’re allowed to go back? I vaguely remember that you got drunk and punched the owner. Who specifically told you that you weren’t welcome on the premises. And that was putting it lightly.”

“It was the one time and I stand by what I did.” Wei Wuxian replied, firmly. The memory of seeing Jin Guangshan leering at his little brother had made his skin crawl. He never told why he’d been banned but didn’t regret it. Jiang Cheng smiled hearing the protectiveness in Wei Wuxian’s tone. “Besides, it’s under the new management of the peacock and Yao-ge.”

“I still say no.” Jiang Cheng replied, turning back to paint. His mind trying to focus on the music still playing in his one ear. 

“Oh come on, didi!” Wei Wuxian begged, leaning against the doorway of Jiang Cheng’s bedroom of their shared apartment. “It will be good for you!”

“What part of no are you not understanding?” Jiang Cheng sighed, serving his older brother a glare that was dull as a baby spoon. Despite his expression the both of them knew that he was right. Jiang Cheng needed to get out and see everyone. It’d been so long since they’d seen him. The whole breakup with Wen Zhuliu had gone to utter shit leaving Jiang Cheng in shambles. But that was nine months ago and while he was making great strides with painting again, going on his morning runs, and picking up Jin Ling from day care for their sister and the peacock, Jiang Cheng mostly stayed in their apartment. 

Wei Wuxian wasn’t going to let him isolate himself anymore. If his little brother was going to be free of that loser then he needed to get out. He didn’t want to truly make him angry because it would ruin his, Lan Wangji’s, and Nie Huaisang’s plan. He schooled his face into his best pout and pleaded again leaning on something that only he knew as his brother. 

“Besides I heard from A- Sang that Xichen-ge and Mingjue-ge will be there too. Xichen-ge got back last night from Tokyo.” Wei Wuxian stated, grinning from ear to ear when Jiang Cheng actually paused mid stroke the paint dripping a bit onto the canvas. Jiang Cheng’s normally pale neck tingeing red. 

Jiang Cheng’s heart started to race at the mention of their names. He had the biggest crush on both of them since he was in high school and that spark of attraction to both of them never faded. Damn his brother for knowing his weak spot and using it was a weapon to manipulate him. 

“Fine.” Jiang Cheng grumbled, even though he was actually starting to feel excited. His mind accepted the idea that it would be nice to get out with the added bonus of seeing Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen.

“YES!” Wei Wuxian yelped, suddenly across the room,  wrapping him up in a tight hug, “You won’t regret it, didi! ” 

“Hopefully.” Jiang Cheng sighed, as Wei Wuxian bounced towards the door probably to go call his boyfriend and brag about his victory. Jiang Cheng shook his head, putting his pod back in before trying to save his painting. He’d have just enough time to finish and get ready for dinner.

“I knew that we shouldn’t have watched that series.” Nie Mingjue complained as he stepped into the living room of his shared apartment with his boyfriend. The theme song of the show continued  playing in his mind as he spoke. Lan Xichen chuckled from where he sat on the couch relaxing with a cup of fresh tea in his hands. His hair down and wearing his glasses for once. He looked warm and cozy in Nie Mingjue’s forest green henley over his t-shirt and jeans. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t get it out of my head too. Can you imagine listening to Director Wu going on and on with that song on repeat.” Lan Xichen chuckled, as Nie Minjgue lifted his legs up by Lan Xichen’s calves so that he could sit down on the couch with him.

“It’s alright.” Nie Mingjue smiled warmly at his adorable boyfriend and soulmate as he put the man’s feet in his lap. His hands moved to gently massage his feet. 

“Since we agreed to meet A-Sang and the other’s for dinner later. Perhaps it will finally go away.” Lan Xichen laughed, making Nie Mingjue laugh. 

“Or at least distract us for a little bit.” Nie Minjgue replied hoping that it did work. The song was good but he needed a different song to think about when working on his logistics reports. 

“A-Xian said that they would be here in a moment. They just pulled in.” Nie Huaisang informed them, looking up from his phone. A smile on his face as he looked at his older brother and Lan Xichen. Since finding out that Nie Minjgue was his soulmate in high school, Lan Xichen knows that something is up. That type of smile always meant that Nie Huaisang has a plan cooked up. Lan Xichen only hoped that it wasn’t tonight. Nie Mingjue was in a good mood. 

“It’s alright, A-Yao, hasn’t come back yet.” Lan Xichen replied. Meng Yao had left the table to take care of something in the kitchen. That’d been about fifteen minutes ago.

“If he’s any longer Xichen-ge, I’ll go back and save him.” Mo Xuanyu stated as he took a sip of the sparkling pink chardonnay that Meng Yao had brought him. Nie Mingjue gave a nod. Meng Yao had been working tirelessly with his older brother to get the exclusive restaurant back to its former glory. Their careless father had left it bankrupt when he forcibly retired. 

The restaurant is a two story tea house that had been remodeled after years of neglect. The first floor contained the bar, kitchen, restrooms, and a dance floor with a koi pond beneath it. Where they are on the second floor, is where the private booths and rooms are. Tonight they were occupying the second largest room, The Room of Fragrance. Meng Yao and Jin Zixuan had gone with the minimalist but elegant accents to decorate the room. Lan Xichen’s favorite thing about the room is the chandelier hanging above their low table. It’s design being branches from a plum blossom tree dangling down from the ceiling and the blooms giving light to the room. 

“There they are.” Nie Huaisang said happily waving his hand at them like he’s not seen them in years, stirring Lan Xichen’s attention, as the shoji door slid open to reveal: Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian, Meng Yao, and Jiang Cheng.  He felt Nie Mingjue suddenly reach over resting his hand on his upper thigh, and he knew that he wasn’t the only who’s breath had gotten stuck in their throat. Jiang Cheng looked good no, damn good. 

His black hair that’d been kept short during his previous relationship was now long enough that he was able to braid it off to one side showing off his stunning sapphire eyes and that long neck. As he took off his pea coat, it revealed he’d chosen a black turtleneck with some very well fitted jeans. He looked healthier than he’d been in the past few months that Lan Xichen had seen through Wei Wuxian’s social media accounts and occasionally Wangji’s instagram when Jiang Cheng was with them. 

“We are sooo glad you decided to join us tonight, A-Cheng!” Nie Huaisang declared way too cheerfully, making Jiang Cheng flush as he turned around. Which of course made Lan Xichen’s heart skip a beat and by the squeezing of Nie Mingjue’s hand he knows the other is feeling the same as him. 

“I just bet you are.” Jiang Cheng bites out teasingly as he rounds the table to sit in between Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian.

“Oh we are.” Nie Huaisang teases, bumping Jiang Cheng’s shoulder as the latter sits down directly across from Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue. Which of course makes it click in his mind why Nie Huaisang had been insistent that they sit where they are now earlier when they first arrived. His gaze flickering from Jiang Cheng to see the wide cheshire grin spreading across his boyfriend’s little brother’s face. 

“That little…” Lan Xichen hears Nie Mingjue grumble but fade out as Jiang Cheng gives them both a soft smile making Lan Xichen’s brain check out for a few seconds till Wei Wuxian loudly exclaims that he is starving. Then they are all passing around the tablet to order their food.

They are halfway into their dinner when Nie Huaisang says, “You know what I heard today from one of my patients? I heard that when a song gets stuck in your head. That it is because you can hear your soulmate singing it.” 

“Then didi's soulmate has blessed with him non stop singing Everyday Will Say Goodbye, because he’s been singing it for two weeks now.” Wei Wuxian teased Jiang Cheng, making the latter flush and nudge him sharply with his elbow, not seeing how both Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue had stilled across from him. 

“Then Lan Wangji has been blessed with your horrible belting of No Feelings.” Jiang Cheng teased back. 

“Hey, Lan Zhan loves my singing.” Wei Wuxian sticks out his lower lip in a pout,  dramatically turning to look at his boyfriend and soulmate with puppy eyes. Lan Wangji’s small smile and soft nod only makes Wei Wuxian preen turning back around with a smirk and sticking his tongue childishly out at his brother.

“Spoiled.” Jiang Cheng says rolling his eyes despite the smile on his own face. He reaches out for his glass when he notices that Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen are staring at him with a look that makes him still, hand hovering in the air. He blinks looking down at his glass. His cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red that had nothing to do with the wine he was drinking. 

“You’ve been singing Everyday Will Say Goodbye?” Lan Xichen asked, a smile spreading across his face as Jiang Cheng nodded. 

“It’s this opening song to a show that A-Ning sent me.” Jiang Cheng explained.

“Good song.” Nie Mingjue replied, sharing a knowing look with Lan Xichen. It made more sense now. While the two of them love each other deeply. It had always felt like there was a missing piece. Their other half hadn’t been with them but now he’d been found. 

“Yes it is.” Lan Xichen agreed, gaze shifting back to Jiang Cheng. 

----

Refs: 

Idea for prompt from this post by  3rdgymbros

No Feelings by Wang Yibo - https://youtu.be/7dG4yShmxIM

Everyday Will Say Goodbye by Jason Zhang Jie -  https://youtu.be/QI6WHyiFLdc

House Koi is based loosely off the japanese restaurant Gonpachi that was used in Kill Bill: Vol. 1 (2003) 

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Oh, oh! Can we get a peek at the sculptor extra?

You certainly can!

-/-

As a general rule, Lan Wangji and Wen Qing don’t tend to play host.

Their home is certainly nice enough. Modest, but elegant and tastefully decorated in a fairly even mix of their individual personal tastes. Thankfully Lan Wangji’s preference for asceticism doesn’t seem to bother Wen Qing much, though she does tend to soften his influence with touches of her own. Slightly haphazard stacks of books on their otherwise impeccable bookshelves when she’s in the throes of a new research project, or a red throw blanket for the sectional when he would typically choose white. On the rare occasion that Lan Wangji considers what their house must seem like to outsiders, he thinks that they’ve adequately created the image of two people happily in love sharing a life together, but typically neither of them are too keen to have their personal lives observed so closely by the near-strangers they work with who would attend such things as house parties hosted by two the of the most unapproachable professors in their entire university.

That being said, Wen Qing’s family is an entirely different matter, and Lan Wangji hasn’t yet minded playing host to any of them who pass through their door (though he will admit that he has a preference for their current guests as well as Wen Qing’s grandmother).

“Rich-gege, up please,” little Wen Yuan says sweetly in the way of toddlers (where ‘please’ sounds more like ‘peas’ and is paired with grabby hands up at him in clear expectation of being held). Lan Wangji bends instantly to scoop the boy up onto his hip where he promptly clings with tiny fists in his nicely starched collar, and Lan Wangji offers the boy a smile in return for his wide grin, tongue just barely poking out between his little teeth.

“A-Yuan, you shouldn’t call him Rich-gege,” Wen Qing admonishes from the sofa, her brother beside her and the both of them cradling cups of tea. They’re clearly in the middle of supervising A-Yuan’s playtime judging by the way the perpetually tidy family room has apparently been hit by a tornado made of multicolor wooden blocks and a small menagerie of stuffed animals. 

“I do not mind,” Lan Wangji reassures, as he always does. He turns his attention back to A-Yuan tugging insistently on his collar. “Hello A-Yuan. Have you been good for popo and your Ning-ge?”

A-Yuan nods vigorously as Lan Wangji carries him into the kitchen and the boy starts lisping through a story that Lan Wangji has some difficulty following but that seems to be about a game he played with Wen Popo the day before. The rules of it as explained by A-Yuan are as incomprehensible as he would expect, but he makes a point to hum at the right moments as he pours himself a glass of water one-handed and sips at it as he listens.

A-Yuan is still chatting away when Lan Wangji sets the now empty glass in the sink and returns to the living room to settle down in the arm chair to the left of the sofa where he re-settles A-Yuan more fully on his lap so they can look at each other as they ‘talk’. He helps the boy down off his lap a few minutes later when he’s finished so he can go back to his blocks only to find himself otherwise alone with his brother-in-law.

Wen Ning is a quiet man, unlikely to fill silences or to necessarily want them filled for him, and so Lan Wangji simply unbuttons his suit jacket and settles in, one leg crossed over the other primly as he settles in properly to listen to A-Yuan playing and the sound of Wen Qing muttering to herself over something in the den around the corner, most likely one of her new lesson plans that she’s still aggressively editing.

When the sun has nearly set and A-Yuan’s play - now including Wen Ning to move his stuffed animals at his direction - has become interspersed with glances towards the kitchen, Lan Wangji stands to find Wen Qing hunched over their shared desk scribbling furiously in her notepad.

“Would you like to go out for dinner?” he offers. “It has not begun raining yet, we will likely beat the storm.”

“Hm? Oh. Dinner already?” she sighs when she glances up out the window behind him. “That’s alright, Popo sent them with enough food to feed us all for the entire weekend if we want to stretch it that far. The fridge is about to burst.”

“Mn. I will begin heating it, I believe A-Yuan is hungry.”

“I’ll be right in.”

Lan Wangji simply nods and turns to head back out through the sitting room to the kitchen, slippers quiet on the carpet. He’s methodical and precise as he withdraws enough containers from the fridge - glass casserole dishes and startling amounts of Tupperware both - to provide them with more than they’ll likely need. He knows that A-Yuan apparently doesn’t remember the brief stint he spent going hungry before moving in with Wen Popo, but Lan Wangji is still painfully aware of it anytime it’s his responsibility to take care of the boy.

[uweiy]

They were roommates part. 5

Somehow the floormate-party morphed into a floormate-dinner on a Friday evening two weeks later. Wei Wuxian and Huaisang had booked the common kitchen, managed to invite everyone on their floor AND convince them to bring food.

Xichen came accompanied by Lan Wangji, who seemed about as happy as if someone murdered cute rabbits right in front of him.

Jiang Cheng elbowed Xichen. "Why did you bring him ? He's not even in our dorm."

Xichen whispered back "I need to get my little brother out sometimes"

wait. Brother ?! Looking closely, they resembled each other so much it was a wonder Jiang Cheng hadn’t noticed sooner. Only where Lan Xichen's gaze was gentle, Lan Wangji's eyes usually didn't betray any emotion. Today they were shooting daggers. Jiang Cheng made a mental note to tell Wei Wuxian not to bother him out of existence.

The Lans brought some kind of rice congee with steamed vegetables and added it to the table already filled with appetizers and various dishes.

Wei Wuxian opened a beer pack on the table and winked to Jiang Cheng "beer barely counts as alcohol"

Truthfully, beer wouldn't be enough to get his brother drunk, and one can couldn't hurt him either.

There were about 7 people he didn't know around the table, one or them looking absolutely terrified and clinging to Wei Wuxian like a shadow.

"Jiang Cheng look ! I found him outside looking like a lost puppy so I kinda took him in. Isn't he adorable ?? Wei Wuxian explained, like it was a perfectly acceptable thing to say about a human being. He added pensively “ His name is Wen Ning I think -"

"Xichen-ge ?" A voice interrupted their conversation.

"...Huaisang ?" Xichen's surprised expression quickly morphed into a smile "How have you been ?"

"I'm pretty okay ! studying law is not so bad I guess. I didn't want to at first but brother-" He interrupted himself, nervously checking Xichen's face. "I'm going to ... Check if there's enough beer. Bye Xichen-ge !"

"That's my brother's roommate. You know him ?"

Xichen suddenly averted his eyes. "Let's just say ... His brother and I... We were close"

Oh. Jiang Cheng didn't press on. Talking about his feelings wasn't his strong suit anyway. He didn't really know what was.

In the meantime Wei Wuxian had already dragged Lan Wangji away to some round of bowling, and cheers echoed around the table.

At some point somebody had the excellent idea to throw a bucket of soap water one the floor of the corridor. Wei Wuxian immediatly screamed "SLIDE AND GLIDE !"and everyone rapidly joined in.

Huaisang crossed his arms and looked at Jiang Cheng with a daring smile. "you know, I bet you can't slide as far as he does." And really who would Jiang Cheng be if he backed down from a challenge. Thus, they end up performing relatively impressive slides over the whole length of the corridor, with more or less clothes on.

Lan Wangji mutters "boring" under his breath but his eyes seem fixed on Wei Wuxian. As for Jiang Cheng, he could swear Xichen cheers him on.

First part//previous/next

Author's Note : 📢 Helloooooo idk how to follow a scheduuuuuleee Next part probably on thuuuursdayyyy 📢

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fire and Light (ao3) - on tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10

- Chapter 11 -

The Fire Palace was, ironically enough, on fire.

Nie Mingjue had known that something was going to happen since earlier that day, when Meng Yao had breezed in with an unusually pointed announcement that it was “Breakfast as usual!” and then handed him a bowl of glistening red-braised meat. Yesterday’s leftovers, of course, a servant’s share, but more and better than Nie Mingjue had had in quite a while.

He’d looked up at Meng Yao silently in question as he ate, wondering if Meng Yao giving him his own meal – it was obviously that – was a good thing or a bad thing, the final meal of the condemned or a means of gathering strength before an upcoming event of some unknown variety.

Meng Yao looked as tense as a wound-up spring, his normally placid features unusually tight and his attention elsewhere, but he noticed Nie Mingjue’s attention and winked.

Not an execution, then, Nie Mingjue concluded. He might have doubted it if it was someone else, but Meng Yao was fundamentally selfish, deep down in his core, and as long as he enjoyed Nie Mingjue’s company he wouldn’t be willing to release him to the comfort of death and non-existence, no matter how much he might prefer it some days.

Learning to deal with someone like Meng Yao had been a great deal of fun, actually – puzzling out how to talk his language, to try (in vain) to understand his way of thinking, to try to figure out how to appeal to him. Possibly it wouldn’t have been something he’d enjoy if he’d had anything else to do, but, well, he didn’t, and next thing Nie Mingjue knew he was eating meat and Meng Yao was winking at him and he knew that he needed to prepared for whatever happened next.

He hadn’t exactly been expecting a fire, but he supposed he hadn’t really been expecting anything at all.

Except, perhaps, that when he tried the door to his cell, staying low to avoid the smoke, it swung open as if it had never been locked at all.

Meng Yao – thank you.

Nie Mingjue went over to unlock as many of the other cells as he could – as he’d suspected, Meng Yao hadn’t thought of that, or possibly hadn’t bothered to care – before heading back up to the main hallways of the Sun Palace. He wasn’t sure if Meng Yao intended for him to run away or if he was supposed to be doing something else, but surely by now Meng Yao knew that he wasn’t the sort of person to get himself out of trouble.

Not when there was a chance that Meng Yao might need him.

Not when there was a chance –

He lies, Nie Mingjue reminded himself. He likes to hurt you. There’s no reason to believe that they’re actually dead and gone.

The Sun Palace was a mess as well, people running around left and right with panic in their eyes – mostly not people he knew, or who knew him – and whoever had set fire to the Fire Palace had definitely reached here as well. Few of them carried swords, and Nie Mingjue suggested to the handful of staff who considerately stopped to warn him that he was going the wrong way that if they couldn’t get away entirely, they might be safe if they took refuge in the kitchens, in the hope that the invading army would live up to their principles and not engage in a wholesale slaughter and, if it took a turn for the worst, then at least they’d have lots of knives close at hand.

When he opened the door to Nie Huaisang’s old room, he saw someone move out of the corner of his eye. For a moment his heart was in his mouth, hoping – but no, it wasn’t his brother.

It was a boy about the same age, though. He was not quite yet fifteen at a guess – a child, really, and who let a child join in with an army?! – and was wearing dark clothing with no clan insignia, a sword at his side and a single red ribbon woven through his hair. He was holding a long box that he’d dug out from underneath one of the stones in the floor.

He looked up just as Nie Mingjue looked down, their eyes meeting.

“Uh,” the boy said. “You don’t look like a guard.”

“I’m not,” Nie Mingjue said. “You don’t look like my brother.”

“Your brother…? Oh!” The boy smiled, suddenly, and the expression transformed his face into something far livelier and good-natured, although Nie Mingjue suspected that he saw more than a little arrogance mixed in there, the sort that’d undoubtedly get the boy into trouble one day. “In that case, this box is for you, da-ge!”

The boy said it in an especially familiar tone - had they met before? Nie Mingjue didn’t think they had.

He thought he might remember having taken on a little brother like this, full of mischief.

But he accepted the box, more out of bemusement than anything else, and knew from the second it was in his arms what it contained.

“Baxia,” he breathed, his eyes stinging with tears as he drew her – he’d missed her so very much, during his time below, and he thanked his brother’s wisdom in hiding her. Nie Huaisang must have acted very quickly, right after Nie Mingjue’s failed attack on Wen Ruohan, spiriting her away when everyone was still distracted…Nie Mingjue looked at the boy. “How did you know..?”

“Nie-xiong told me,” he said. “I’m Wei Wuxian, of the Yunmeng Jiang – I’m sworn brothers with Wen Ning, which makes you my big brother, too!”

Well, that at least explained that.

“Is A-Ning all right?” he asked. “Is - is Huaisang…?”

“They’re both fine,” Wei Wuxian assured him, and Nie Mingjue might adopt him as a younger brother for real just for bringing him that news. “Nie-xiong sent me here to help rescue you!”

“You’re too young.”

“…fine, I told him I was smuggling myself along anyway no matter what anyone said and asked if he had any requests, and he told me that if I’m going to make a fool of myself I may as well make myself useful and get Baxia.”

Nie Mingjue hoped that meant that Nie Huaisang had assumed that this part of the Sun Palace would be out of the way of the fighting, although knowing his brother, he might have just decided that Baxia was more important. He had a bad tendency to slip into Qishan Wen-like sneaky thinking when Nie Mingjue wasn’t around to correct him…

“Where is the fighting happening?” Nie Mingjue asked.

“The main hall,” Wei Wuxian said promptly, then pause. “You’re asking so that we can avoid it, right?”

Nie Mingjue liked to think of Meng Yao as a prison guard, and he was, but Nie Mingjue was one of Wen Ruohan’s precious prisoners, one of the ones he liked to cradle in his fist like pearls, and you didn’t get a job like that – being one of Wen Ruohan’s chief torturers – without being close to the man himself.

And that meant Meng Yao was facing danger from all sides: from the attackers, who would see Meng Yao’s Wen robes and Wen sword and not think twice, and from Wen Ruohan, if he ever figured out the extremely obvious truth that Meng Yao was a spy.

“No,” Nie Mingjue said, and turned his feet towards the main hall. “You can go, though.”

“Are you kidding? Your brothers would kill me if I let you go alone – and that’s probably for the best, they can get rid of me before Wen Qing gets to me.”

“They won’t kill you. Sect Leader Wen will.”

“…I’m still coming with you,” Wei Wuxian said.

“How good are you with your sword?”

“Good enough – and, hey, at least I don’t look like I just spent the last few months in prison or something!”

“I was in prison,” Nie Mingjue pointed out, mostly because it was funny to see Wei Wuxian try to swallow his tongue. He didn’t waste time objecting to him coming along, though – if necessary, he could distract Wen Ruohan himself while Wei Wuxian got Meng Yao out.

The corridor was lined with bodies in all sorts of colors, Wen, Lan, Jiang, and even somehow the familiar colors of the Nie sect, which he hadn’t been sure anyone still wore. Nie Mingjue rushed forward, unable to shake the feeling that something bad was happening, and burst in through the doors only to see Wen Xu crumpled on the floor, on his knees but not injured or bleeding, his father towering above him, and Meng Yao one step behind him, his sword in hand and moving forward to stab, but Wen Ruohan wasn’t distracted enough – he had noticed him, was turning towards him –

“Wen-dog!” Nie Mingjue shouted. “Go fuck your mother!”

He’d never actually cursed Wen Ruohan out loud before, a mix of terror and survival instinct, and maybe it was that that made Wen Ruohan stop in surprise for just a moment, just a breath, a heartbeat, and that was enough time for Meng Yao to complete his swing.

Wen Ruohan staggered, struck, and he lashed out with his hand, sending Meng Yao flying.

“Go help him,” Nie Mingjue ordered Wei Wuxian, who was already moving, and he took three steps and sent Baxia out ahead of him.

Wen Ruohan tried to bat it away, like a cat to a mouse, but if he knew Nie Mingjue too well by now then Nie Mingjue also knew him in turn; he hadn’t bothered to send his saber straight at him but past, letting Baxia use her blunt end to full effect in spinning herself around with the momentum of Wen Ruohan’s own blow and using the extra force when driving herself straight into his back.

Wen Ruohan spat out a mouthful of blood.

Before he could collect himself, Nie Mingjue was in front of him, his hands on his neck, and Wen Ruohan choked, the blood welling up in the back of his throat given no release. His eyes were bloodshot, his impressive cultivation an unstable mess from all the fighting he’d been doing for months and now the two unexpected stab wounds, his hands reaching up to try to tear Nie Mingjue’s hands away, but Nie Mingjue wasn’t going to let him. He refused to let him, pulling freely from the deep reserves of his own cultivation, strengthened through years of practice and meditation, maintained even in prison through discipline and boredom. He had so much, had wasted so much, never using his power the way it was meant to be used, to eradicate evil and protect the innocent, but rather just pointlessly stockpiling it for years and years while trapped in the Nightless City – but that was all fine.

He only needed to be strong enough for this one moment in time.

“Rabid dogs,” he said, “need to be put down.”

Wen Ruohan’s eyes widened in recognition of the words he himself had spoken all those years before when he’d killed Nie Mingjue’s father twice over, once with his saber and another with his own hands.

The light of recognition was still there in his eyes when Nie Mingjue snapped his neck.

“Fuck,” Meng Yao said from where Wei Wuxian was helping him up, wheezing a bit. “I was hoping to do that myself, da-ge. I need it.”

Nie Mingjue shrugged and crooked his finger, Baxia pulling herself out of Wen Ruohan’s chest to cut off his head. “You struck the first blow,” he said, nodding at the head that tumbled down to the floor. “You can take credit for the whole thing.”

He didn’t need credit. There was Wen Ruohan’s blood on Baxia’s blade, his last breath on Nie Mingjue’s hands – he could burn incense for his father at last, and hope that he enjoyed the prizes his son, so belatedly filial, had at last won for him.

“Mingjue-xiong!” Wen Xu shouted, having gotten up off the floor, and threw himself at him. The movement was very agile, which meant that Nie Mingjue’s assumption that he was uninjured – that he’d been felled more by his fear of his father, the poisonous anxiety his father had cultivated in him deliberately, than by pain – was correct. “You’re all right!”

Nie Mingjue staggered with the weight of Wen Xu in his arms, with his arms around him and holding him tight.

“Mingjue…?” Meng Yao’s jaw gaped open like a fish. “Wait, you’re Nie Mingjue?!”

“Did you not know that?” Wei Wuxian asked him, gingerly picking up Wen Ruohan’s head by its hair. “Actually, come to think about it, who are you?”

“Consider A-Yao as my younger brother,” Nie Mingjue told Wei Wuxian. “Since you’re sworn brothers with A-Ning, you can consider him a brother as well.”

Hopefully that connection, and any others Nie Mingjue could scrounge up, would be enough to make up for Nie Mingjue having put his revenge ahead of Meng Yao’s ambitions. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that Meng Yao needed Wen Ruohan’s head in order to win a place at his father’s side – to get the name he was entitled to, the name he’d promised his mother he’d get – and Nie Mingjue had taken that from him.

“You said you were nobody important!” Meng Yao said accusingly, uncharacteristically off-balance, glaring at Nie Mingjue like he’d done something to him personally. “That people had probably forgotten you!”

“That’s our Mingjue-xiong, all right,” Wen Xu said, grinning. He didn’t so much as glance at the body at their feet, but his eyes were a little wet, glassy with relief – an ancient fear finally defeated, not a beloved father lost. Nie Mingjue was unwillingly glad that they had broken their father-son bond so thoroughly; he would have killed Wen Ruohan anyway, but he would have regretted causing Wen Xu pain. “Never listen to anything he says about himself, that’s the first rule. So you’re another of Mingjue-xiong’s younger brothers, huh? I guess that makes you one of us, then.”

“Us?” Nie Mingjue echoed. “What are you talking about, you’re older than me –”

“Doesn’t matter, doesn’t count!”

“You’re four years older –”

“I’m going to call you da-ge from now on and there’s nothing you can do about it!”

-

When Nie Mingjue had thought of travel – and he had thought of it often, trapped behind the walls of the Nightless City, unable to leave – he had imagined himself flying on Baxia, or maybe riding a horse on a long journey, the animal laden with all the baggage. He excelled at both skills within close quarters, and his endurance was similarly excellent – how different could long-distance travel be?

He hadn’t expected to be making his first journey in years in a carriage.

It might even be the same carriage that brought him and Nie Huaisang to the Nightless City that first time, large and echoing, as vacant and barren as their hearts had been.

Of course, it wasn’t vacant now.

“– and of course the walls are made of stone, so there really wasn’t that much damage,” Nie Huaisang was saying enthusiastically, waving his fan around like a saber, though he’d never admit as much. “Some tapestries, some chairs, that sort of thing, things that can be replaced –”

“I tried to preserve as much as possible,” Wen Xu interjected, still somehow looking guilty despite having been told a dozen times over that Nie Mingjue didn’t hold him accountable for having burned the Unclean Realm. “I let word go in advance, they were able to move a lot of things out, evacuate –”

“Things can be remade, people cannot,” Jin Zixuan agreed quietly, ducking his head when Wen Xu wrapped a companionable arm over his shoulders in thanks for his support. They’d apparently gotten close after Wen Xu had officially defected, bringing over those Wen sect cultivators that did not wish to engage in Wen Ruohan’s wars of conquering or who were disgusted by the way their side had conducted themselves during the war to date; Wen Xu had been leading his own men, but being able to take people with him didn’t mean anything about provisioning them, and Qingheng-jun as the general of the overall campaign had assigned the Jin sect to assist.

Jin Guangshan had probably thought, when he agreed, that it would end up with Wen Xu in his debt, a rosy future in which the Jin sect controlled two of the five Great Sects even after Wen Xu recovered the vast Wen sect coffers that were his birthright.

He was probably not expecting Wen Xu to save his son’s life in battle, or for the two of them to impulsively swear brotherhood as a result.

There was, Nie Mingjue reflected, an awful lot of that going around.

Wen Ning, for example, was currently sitting at one corner of the carriage playing some sort of bizarre hand-gesture game with his two sworn brothers, the Jiang sect boys, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian. Exactly what meritorious deed they had done together to justify such an oath remained a little vague – Nie Mingjue suspected, based on various comments, that they might have done it purely to keep Wen Ning at the Lotus Pier when Wen Ruohan had started to make noises about bringing him home.

Regardless, Wen Ning was happier than Nie Mingjue had ever seen him – Wei Wuxian’s brash and outgoing nature was rubbing off on him a little, making him more confident, while he positively blossomed under Jiang Cheng’s harsh scolding-as-affection, which was similar enough to Nie Mingjue’s own that Wen Ning was by now thoroughly versed in how to accept it. He, in turn, was able to bridge the gap between the two of them, acting as a translator when each boy’s issues interfered with communication, and the three of them were by this point utterly inseparable.

Nie Huaisang had apparently thought the idea was marvelous and insisted on a sworn brotherhood triad of his own – Wen Chao, of course, and surprisingly enough Lan Wangji, who apparently had been conspiring with the two of them in regards to the war ever since his visit to the Nightless City so long ago. Nie Mingjue had no idea how that brotherhood had managed to work out, given Wen Chao’s bizarre affinity for Lan Wangji’s father (they’d agreed to share), Lan Wangji’s tendency to communicate exclusively in barely visible facial expressions whenever possible, and of course Nie Huaisang’s rampant but ultimately harmless tendencies towards self-indulgence causing disasters left and right all the time, but they all certainly seemed very happy about it.

(Lan Wangji was currently sitting next to Wei Wuxian, watching the game – in all accuracy, Wei Wuxian was halfway into his lap, given the cramped nature of the carriage, but Lan Wangji didn’t seem to mind.

It was an interesting parallel to Wen Chao, sitting across from him, with Wang Lingjiao in his lap…)

Wen Qing, at least, did not have sworn sisters.

Yet.

It was apparently a subject being seriously discussed, along with Jiang Yanli and a Jin sect girl variously referred to Mianmian or Luo Qingyang, but they hadn’t reached any conclusions as of yet.

That had not stopped either girl from addressing Nie Mingjue, rather cheekily, as da-ge.

In fact, it hadn’t stopped any of them from doing that.

Even Lan Xichen – currently sitting and chatting with Meng Yao with great enthusiasm – had joined in, apparently on the basis of his younger brother being sworn brothers with Nie Mingjue’s younger brother. The whole thing smacked of Nie Huaisang’s reasoning from start to end, but Nie Mingjue couldn’t dispute that it was rather nice to see so many people happily calling each other brother and sister – the cultivation world hadn’t been peaceful enough for such familiarity in at least a generation.

Of course, the fact that they’d all thirteen of them insisted on squeezing into the carriage with him, which was spacious but not quite at the level of a qiankun pouch, was making it abruptly clear to Nie Mingjue that he had – somehow – assumed responsibility as the elder brother of the vast majority of the younger generation of the Great Sects.

Possibly that was going to become troublesome once the older generation realized.

Probably, even.

This carriage ride was probably going to be the thing that made everyone realize it.

(There were those that already knew, of course – in his brief meeting with her, Sect Leader Yu had gruffly informed him that she whole-heartedly adopted Nie Huaisang’s interpretation of how sworn familial relationships worked and therefore, as the older brother of her grandson’s sworn brother, he ought to give up and resign himself to calling her grandmother already, and then there had been Lan Qiren who hadn’t even bothered to logically justify any of the most un-Lan-like hugs he had insisted on giving him. But everyone else in the cultivation world was probably going to be in for a bit of a shock…)

Nie Mingjue himself had been very firmly placed in the center of the carriage where the bumps had the least impact, and which was also conveniently within arms’ reach of everyone. They’d all picked up a tendency to reach out to touch him every once in a while, as if reminding themselves that he was there and not dead and not about to vanish out into the ether. Even the ones he didn’t know that well at first had very quickly lost their reserve around him, which Nie Mingjue ascribed to mob mentality and everyone else ascribed to him exuding an aura of trustworthiness and reliability – Nie Huaisang declared that he just felt like a big brother – which Nie Mingjue thought sounded silly but everyone else agreed with fervently enough that he realized it was time to stop arguing.

There had been a lot of tears when they’d found each other again, a series of meetings that had left him drained and dehydrated and so, so happy. Wen Ruohan hadn’t killed a single one of them.

Nie Mingjue had then given everyone a scare by collapsing, more out of relief than anything else, but that scare was presumably why he was stuck in the invalid’s place even all this time later – he wasn’t actually an invalid any longer, no matter what Wen Qing darkly insisted and everyone else tried to enforce, he’d even started gaining back some of the weight he’d lost in the Fire Palace and he was swinging Baxia free and clear in carefully monitored trainings that made his heart sing – but in all honesty he didn’t mind or, more accurately, didn’t care.

He was going home.

Back home to Qinghe, to the Unclean Realm, which he hadn’t seen for five years and more. Back to his Nie sect, which demanded that he be recognized as their sect leader by seemingly unanimous acclaim despite there being a plausible argument that he’d not made much of a contribution in the war – an argument that, whenever he mentioned it, made every single one of his now-siblings bristle and hiss like cats, and, whenever anyone else mentioned it, made him have to quickly run damage control before his vengeful mob could plot their utter destruction. Even the interim Sect Leader Nie, a cousin of his, had yielded up the position at once, even though he might’ve had a reasonable argument to keep it.

The world was in chaos, the politics of the situation following Wen Ruohan’s demise not yet sorted out, there was rebuilding and healing to be done, truces to be reached, forgiveness to be given out, justice to be achieved, endless amounts of work to be done –

None of that mattered right now.

Nie Mingjue was going back to the place he loved the most, with the people he loved the most by his side.

He didn’t know what to expect when they arrived. He thought it would be something good.

- END -

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fire and Light (ao3) - on tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

- Chapter 8 -

A small group of sects unexpectedly announced that they wanted Wen Ruohan to adjudicate a boundary line dispute – some were affiliated with the Jiang sect, others with the Jin, and they wanted a neutral party. Wen Ruohan was pleased, even smug, that they had chosen him rather than the Lan sect, which with its righteous reputation was more typically called upon to mediate for the other sects.

“Maybe none of them have a good argument,” Nie Huaisang mused. “They’re all awful, and they want someone more self-absorbed than either side to broker something out.”

“Not everyone is awful, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue said, tucking the blankets around him. “Most people are good. Besides, there are some pretty renowned sects involved, so even if it’s true, you shouldn’t say it.”

Nie Huaisang heaved a sigh. “But da-ge –”

“Time for medicine,” Nie Mingjue said firmly, and lifted the bowl to his lips.

Nie Huaisang had a mild case of food poisoning, causing a stomachache, vomiting and a low-grade fever – Wen Qing had determined that it wasn’t infectious, but also, rather grimly, figured out that the source of the illness was most likely a particular treat that Nie Huaisang had generously shared with both her and Wen Chao, and sure enough they were both bedridden less than a day later. Luckily, Wen Qing had had enough time to boil the base for the medicine they needed, and while he wasn’t at her level, much less the now-absent Wen Ning’s, even Nie Mingjue could follow directions well enough to add the final ingredients right before serving.

(Even Wen Zhuliu, who remained Wen Chao’s bodyguard despite their best efforts, had fallen ill, except his version had been significantly worse – more or less non-stop emissions out both ends, and out of self-preservation Nie Mingjue had insisted that he remain in the servants’ quarters far away from all of them.)

Nie Huaisang finished drinking the medicine, making a face that only went away when Nie Mingjue stuffed something sweet into his mouth to help get rid of the taste. “Will you be all right helping out?”

“Of course I will,” Nie Mingjue said. “I haven’t forgotten how to help host a party.”

“No, I meant…”

Nie Mingjue shrugged. Normally, Wen Ruohan had enough concern for his face to prefer that Nie Mingjue avoid showing his own shortly after he’d been insolent enough to warrant punishment, but due to the food poisoning they were short on young masters to greet all the incoming people – and their guests were too important not to be greeted by someone with status.

“I’ll use some powder, it’ll be fine,” he said. “And anyway, even if someone notices, it’s not like they would be bold enough to comment; they’re here to ask Sect Leader Wen for a favor, after all. Who will even pay attention to me long enough to notice?”

The answer, Nie Mingjue swiftly learned, was Yu Ming, a crotchety old grandmother from Meishan Yu in Sichuan who didn’t like the food (not spicy enough), her chair (the first one was too rickety, the second too soft), her peers (idiots, all of them), her drink (they’d served tea and she wanted wine, and then later on it was the other way around), and, most problematically, was one of the more influential sect leaders on the Jiang sect’s side. Not exactly someone they wanted to offend by providing inferior hospitality.  

Nie Mingjue ended up abandoning his now habitual corner in the back of the room to dash back and forth dancing attendance on her, run ragged and breathless by all of her demands.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise when she approached him in his corner during the banquet’s dessert course, and he straightened up at once, saluting politely. “Sect Leader Yu,” he said, suppressing a desire to moan and maybe beg for mercy; his legs were killing him. How this managed to be worse than serious saber training he had no idea, but it was. “Is the dessert not to your liking? I can get you something cool instead –”

“Sit down, boy,” she growled. “The crystal cakes are fine, and I’m tired of looking up at you. How tall are you? Six chi?”

“…five and a half, maybe five and three-quarters,” he confessed, sitting down obediently. At this point, she could tell him to jump out a window and he probably would – she had a very sharp walking stick and no hesitation about waving everywhere. No sympathy for her miserable victims, either.

“And you’re how old?”

“Seventeen.”

“Slowed down yet?”

“…not yet.”

She huffed. “That’s all we need, another Nie giant. I told your father that he was making a mistake, marrying a woman that needed to duck to get through doors…that how you got that black eye?”

“Huh?” Nie Mingjue said unintelligently, still caught by the mental image – he scarcely remembered his mother, having been very young when she left, but it was nice to think that it wasn’t just the perspective of having been a toddler that had made her appear quite so towering. “Oh, I – uh – training accident.”

Yu Ming squinted at him. “Same training accident that dislocated three of your fingers and a kneecap, did a number on your ribs, and cut your back up so bad that you need bandages and –” She inhaled. “– at least two doses of bai mao gen to replenish the blood lost?”

Nie Mingjue opened and closed his mouth wordlessly. Finally, yielding under her glare, he muttered, “I didn’t dislocate my kneecap.”

He might’ve preferred that, actually. Dislocations could be shoved back into place with relatively little issue; he’d sprained it, instead. A bad fall from when he’d shamefully broken and tried to run from the Fire Palace, futilely seeking safety, a place where he neither had to hurt people nor be hurt himself.

Not that such a place existed in the Nightless City, of course. He’d only been dragged back after, as he ought to have expected, and then things had gotten much worse, but he hadn’t really been thinking his actions through at the time.

“Dislocated, not dislocated, whatever. Has to be something, the way you’re dragging that left leg of yours behind you when you trot,” she said practically. “You’re a rotten liar, did anyone ever tell you that?”

“Many people,” Nie Mingjue said with a sigh. Most of them currently in bed with food poisoning, except for lucky Wen Ning away at the Lotus Pier and miserable Wen Xu now stuck standing by his father’s side, pretending to smile. “Does it matter?”

“Matter? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Other than going and applying more powder, there’s not much I can do about it even if it does offend your sight,” Nie Mingjue pointed out, reasonably enough in his view. “And no matter how many times or ways you ask it, the answer’s still going to be ‘training accident’, whether or not you believe me.”

Yu Ming poked his forehead with her finger, then his cheek. “And this is with powder,” she said, scowling and rubbing the remnants of it between her fingertips as if she hadn’t believed him that it was there until she’d verified it for herself. “If you won’t tell me anything other than ‘training accident’, will you at least tell me what you did to deserve this type of training?”

“I don’t remember,” Nie Mingjue said, and he really didn’t. All the thrashings more or less flowed together pretty well after a while, and in the end it didn’t really matter if he’d intervened on Nie Huaisang’s behalf or Wen Chao’s, whether he’d played whipping boy for Wen Xu or distracted attention away from Wen Qing – they were all close enough to be proper family now. What he did was nothing more than what you ought to do for those you loved, and he’d die before he forgot how to do that.

“Rotten liar,” Yu Ming said, maybe because she could tell he wasn’t lying, and spat on the ground. “It’s a filthy business.”

“I’m hardly going to disagree with you,” he said dryly.

“You might look a little less ragged if you did.”

He shrugged. “They say people can’t change their essential nature.”

“And what’s yours?”

“Blunt to the point of stupidity.”

“Say rather that you cut straight to the point,” she said.

“Well, you know, sabers have one blunt edge, one sharp,” he said, unable to resist a smile even if it pulled at the bruises around his eye. “I can be both.”

She was staring at him.

“…what?”

“You have dimples.”

“I’m…aware?”

He didn’t quite understand the calculating look Yu Ming had in her eyes – or, perhaps better said, he didn’t want to understand that look, and he was willing to put in a great deal of effort behind not understanding it if he had to.

“Do you want another crystal cake?” he asked her abruptly before she could say anything else. When she arched her eyebrows, he elaborated: “Sect Leader Wen will undoubtedly ask me whether I was taking good care of you, being as you are after all one of our honored guests.”

Don’t tell me anything, he meant. Even if you pity me – especially if you pity me. He has ways to make me talk. He likes making me talk.

“…fine, then,” Yu Ming said. “You said something about there being something cool?”

Nie Mingjue suppressed a groan as he dragged himself out of his seat and headed to the kitchen to see if they still had any sorbet left over.

-

“– going to be tricky,” Nie Huaisang was saying to a nodding Wen Xu as Nie Mingjue walked by. “Lanling Jin isn’t fond of making decisions.”

“But they are fond of profit,” Wen Xu pointed out.

“The question will be if there’s a way to strike the right balance without giving too much away –”

Nie Mingjue decided to believe that they were talking about pornography. People said Jin Guangshan was into that sort of thing, didn’t they?

-

Nie Mingjue trained with Baxia at least once every day, and usually more. He found the repetitive actions calming, like an active form of meditation, and he was happy to sink into the mindlessness of physical exertion and forget his worries.

Baxia was warm under his hand, as always – he thought sometimes that she’d never quite adjusted to the warmer temperatures of the Nightless City, preferring as he did the cooler weather of Qinghe.

Perhaps, in time, she would forget it.

Perhaps, in time, so would he.

Forget the cool air filling his lungs, the crisp snap of an autumn day just about to begin; forget the smell of the forests and the feeling of gravel under his shoes. Forget the strain on his muscles from climbing up a steep cliff, the taste of an early snowfall on his tongue – the metallic tang to the water, the lingering smell of smoke in the air even when there wasn’t anyone around for miles.

It felt unforgettable.

But he knew that it wasn’t. In the face of time, all things were ground down into the dust.

He would be eighteen years old this year. Still a little shy of proper adulthood, an unlucky year, if luck had anything to do with his life any longer. He’d been here for four years, just shy of a quarter of all the years he’d ever lived.

Perhaps that was what made him melancholy.

Or perhaps it was only that he had been unable to light incense on the anniversary of his father’s death yet again this year. Wen Ruohan took particular pleasure in ensuring that he couldn’t – he had spent the first year unconscious, the second year immobilized, the third…he tried not to remember.

It didn’t really matter, he supposed, since he’d always agreed in advance that Nie Huaisang would light the incense on behalf of them both, both on the anniversary and on Qingming – they hadn’t ever been given leave to return to Qinghe to sweep their ancestral graves, not once, not even when some of the other sects had complained about the impropriety of it. No one ever paid attention to Nie Huaisang, underestimating how sneaky he could be, and so he’d managed it just fine. Still, the failure to do it himself tugged at Nie Mingjue’s heart, disappointed him in himself - in his failure to be a good son, just as he so often failed to be a good brother.

He sank back into his training by force of willpower.

His cultivation was increasing at an acceptable rate, he thought – shockingly fast by all metrics, but all of his teachers said that his foundations were good, steady as mountains, and his progression through each stage was smooth and unhindered by bottlenecks. The consequences of genius, they said with a shrug.

It was about the only thing that was going in an acceptable manner.

Ma Liyuan had fallen out of favor, as Wen Xu had predicted – she’d failed to remain pregnant despite repeated efforts, and Wen Ruohan took such pleasure in criticizing her for it that Nie Mingjue suspected he’d dosed her tea with contraceptives specifically to set her up for the failure, since he didn’t actually need more sons – but her usefulness remained, so she was married in with all pomp to Wen Chao’s household as a secondary wife.

(She’d been promised the position of first wife, and threw a fit when she realized the change, but Wen Ruohan had reminded her, sneering, that that had been when she’d been a pure and untouched maiden; she really couldn’t expect them to pay such a high price for secondhand goods, now could she?)

Wen Chao obviously had no interest in her at all – she’d tried, once, to make herself up and smile at him and he’d recoiled as if he’d seen a snake, then stared at her and said, “You’re joking, right?” – so she’d taken the next best option and sent her maid to seduce him in her stead.

Wang Lingjiao was pretty enough, with curves enough to make just about any man stare, and pretty cunning to boot. In a different world, a world where Wen Chao had fallen for his father’s nasty little tricks and become a stupid oversexed princeling, a waste of space that would have been incited into fighting against Wen Xu for the sole purpose of being crushed to prove some imagined point of about the necessity of cruelty, she probably would have been able to crawl into his bed and keep her place there without much difficulty.

Wen Chao was a bit of a romantic, after all, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

As it was, when her first few efforts at flirtation failed – or, well, mostly failed, given that Wen Chao held her hands in his own during a garden stroll in the moonlight and told her, with great earnestness, that she was very beautiful and it was such a pity that he wasn’t allowed to think of women romantically until he was fifteen on pain of utmost humiliation and also was she aware of the dangers of venereal disease – Wang Lingjiao pulled back and recalibrated her approach.

This time, she went for Nie Mingjue.

“You’re joking, right?” he asked her.

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Is that a deliberate reference to what Wen Chao said?”

“No, just the same idea. I’m not interested.”

“That much is obvious enough,” she said, tossing her hair. “I want you to tell me what I need to do to get someone to be interested. I don’t want to be a servant any longer.”

Nie Mingjue was at something of a loss for words.

“There must be something I can provide,” Wang Lingjiao demanded. “Some service, some use…I’m a weak cultivator, but that clearly doesn’t bother you lot – your younger brother is weak, too, though I’m still a bit worse. I’m not as dumb as Ma Liyuan; I know there’s more you can sell in life than sex, even if that’s easier. What do you want? What do any of you want?”

Wang Lingjiao was from the Yingchuan Wang cultivation clan, Nie Mingjue abruptly remembered. A smaller sect, with too many children, but a standalone sect nonetheless; their children were born as gentry, not servants. No, they must have sold Wang Lingjiao into servitude, though whether it was to get an in with Qishan Wen or simply to get rid of a budding problem – and extremely beautiful young women with poor cultivation were often a problem, especially when their beauty suggested how their mothers had gotten themselves selected to be wives, or, more likely, concubines – he did not know.

“Do you mix your own makeup?” he asked, and she stared at him. “It’s very well done.”

“…yes,” she said, giving him a strange look. “I do. None that’ll fit you, though.”

He blinked, then laughed. “No, I don’t want any; the only use I have for powder is to cover up bruises when I need to be presentable. I just meant that it seems you have a steady hand at mixing things and judging proportions – A-Qing appreciates those qualities.”

“Wen Qing?” Wang Lingjiao asked, bewildered. “You want to send me to a woman?”

“She’s expressed before that she would like to have more female company,” Nie Mingjue explained, and Wang Lingjiao’s expression only got more fish-like as she gaped at him. “A fair while back, in fairness, but the numbers really are skewed fairly strongly against her. I thought you might get along. Be friends.”

“I’ve never had a female friend in my life,” Wang Lingjiao told him.

“I thought – you’re always chatting with the other serving girls…?”

Wang Lingjiao rolled her eyes as if he were being stupid. He probably was. Forget Qishan ways, the ways of the teenaged girl were utterly beyond his grasp.

“I don’t see what you have to lose by trying,” Nie Mingjue pointed out. “I’m not interested, Xu-ge’s too paranoid to get within touching distance of anyone he thinks has an ulterior motive, A-Chao isn’t allowed to touch women for a few more years –”

“Why is that?”

“He’s gullible, and has both questionable taste and sibling-inflicted trauma relating to brothels,” Nie Mingjue explained, and Wang Lingjiao wrinkled her nose, looking a little amused despite herself. “A-Ning isn’t the type to womanize, and Huaisang is too young. Also a vicious cutthroat when it comes to interpersonal relations, so who even knows what type of person he’d like, if any.”

“I’d noticed that about him.”

“In sum, A-Qing is your best bet,” he concluded. “And all the more so if you approach her in a business-like fashion: make clear to her what benefits you bring and how you’ll compensate for the drawbacks, be practical and reasonable, and you’ll do fine. Do well, and you won’t ever need to fear being sent back to Ma Liyuan – or to Yingchuan.”

Wang Lingjiao stared at him for a moment – she hadn’t expected him to be able to figure that out, he thought, since she was just clever enough to manage to puzzle out that he was the heart and core of their little group but not quite smart enough to realize why – but in the end she seemed to take his advice to heart, nodding and walking away.

He hoped Wen Qing didn’t kill him for sending her a terrible lab assistant.