#xiao jingyu

[trisshawkeye]

There are many sources of warmth in Xiao Jingyu's life, and three of particular significance when he is with the Chiyan Army: his uncle, the army's Marshal Lin Xie, with whom he carefully navigates the dynamics of loyal subject and honoured family; his cousin, the fiery Lin Shu, who is growing up to be his right hand faster than he is quite prepared for; and the talented man he picks from Chiyan's ranks, who becomes more to him than he ever could have imagined.

Meng Zhi/Xiao Jingyu, Xiao Jingyu & the Lin family, Nirvana in Fire, G, 18.7k words

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My Fandom5K assignment written for @thebansacredbanned, who got me absolutely sold on this rarepair and gave me a great opportunity to go playing around in the backstory!

[jianghushenanigans]

Whumptober Day 19: “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”

Jingyu is quiet. He’s been quiet ever since the news came back about Chiyan army’s betrayal and subsequent slaughter at the hands of Xie Yu. Since the death of his uncle and cousin and aunt.

Meng Zhi is normally the type of man who likes to lighten the mood, but there’s nothing he can say now that will make this better. They both know that Lin Xie was innocent. They both know there’s nothing that can be done about it.

They’re in a-Yu’s office, where they always meet. Meng Zhi is well-used to leaping over the walls of the Eastern Palace without getting caught. In better times, they would be sat drinking tea together, or perhaps they would already have moved next door. Today, though, they’re simply standing, holding each other close, shaken by loss.

If Meng Zhi had stayed with the Chiyan Army for any longer than he had, he would be dead.

“They’re going to implicate me in this.” A-Yu says, half muffled by Meng Zhi’s shoulder.

Meng Zhi tenses up, a thousand horrors flying in front of his eyes. “A-Yu! No. I won’t let them, I’ll –”

“Zhi’er. Da-ge.” A-Yu pulls back, looking Meng Zhi straight in the eye. “You have to promise me that you won’t… that you won’t let my father think that you are somehow involved. That you won’t let him know that you’ve ever spoken to me.”

Meng Zhi stares at his lover’s fervent expression. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand how a-Yu can ask him to do this. “You want me to just pretend that I don’t know you, that I think you’re guilty?”

“Yes!” A-Yu’s hands tighten on his shoulders, almost painfully. “Yes, Zhi’er. Just leave it. It’ll be alright in the end, we just can’t afford to upset him.”

Meng Zhi doesn’t get angry easily. He certainly doesn't get angry at a-Yu, his a-Yu. But now… It’ll be alright? How can it be alright? “I’m not as stupid as you think I am, a-Yu. I’m not going to hear you say everything will be alright and just believe it.”

“Zhi’er, of course it will be fine, my father –”

“Your father just had his oldest friend killed! Your father is a paranoid –”

“The Emperor.” A-Yu’s voice is cold, blank. Regal. Meng Zhi knows this tone. He doesn’t know it turned towards him.

Meng Zhi’s heart stutters. “Jingyu –”

“My royal father is the Emperor, General Meng. Or did you forget?”

“A-Yu, I said the wrong thing, please –”

“I think it would be best if you leave.” A-Yu is looking steadily over Meng Zhi’s shoulder, refusing to meet his eyes. “Perhaps you should stay away from the palace for the next few days.”

Meng Zhi doesn't want to leave. But he knows a dismissal when he hears one. “Your Highness.” He sweeps into a bow, and he doesn’t let himself look back.

He never sees Xiao Jingyu again.

Crossposted here on ao3

[feng-huli]

[xiaozhan-appreciation]

"He's sick. What are you doing?"

Xiao Zhan | Gu Yiye moments | E05

[nemainofthewater]

Best Character surnamed: Xiao

Come and vote for the best characters with the same surname!*

What does best mean? It's up to you! Whether you love them, are intrigued by their characters, love to hate them, or they're your '2 second blorbos whose personality you made up wholesale', these are all reasons for you to vote for your favs!

*note, the surnames are not exactly the same in all the cases, as often there will be a different character. I am, however, grouping them all together otherwise things got more complicated.

Propaganda is very welcome! If I’ve forgot anyone, let me know in the notes.

This is part of a larger series of ‘best character with X surname’ polls’. The overview with ongoing polls, winners, and future polls can be found here

[fwoopersongs]

Fandom Peeps to Get to Know Better

I was tagged by @dcderringer.

3 Ships You Like: Mei Changsu & Fei Liu, Voldemort & Harry and Xiao Jingyu & Xiao Jingyan & Lin Shu - because familial and platonic relationships are also ships ok!

First Ship Ever: LelouchXSuzaku from Code Geass

Last Song You Heard: 山鬼 by winky诗

Favorite Childhood Book: King of Shadows by Susan Cooper

Currently Reading: The Lantern and the Night Moths by Yilin Wang, 李贺 Li He's poetry

Currently Watching: 大理寺日志 (2016) White Cat Legend - the donghua, not the live action!

Currently Consuming: Bibigo seaweed and grape vitagen

Currently Craving: A hot pot of flowery osmanthus tea

Tagging @fateandloveentwined, @yilinwriter, @fishylife, @tofufei, and anyone who wants to give this a go ~

[marquisguyun]

Hello from your Fall in Langya partner! Saw your fic recommendation for transmigration fic and transmigrators. If a transmigration would be angsty with Xiao Jingyan because of their lost history, is the answer still the same with amnesia? How about face blindness, which character would you bless with it?

I feel like amnesia is a little less angsty, to me? I mean it depends more on how it's handled individually. But like (for the Xiao Jingyan example) the person that Mei Changsu and everyone cares about is Xiao Jingyan, not whoever might transmigrate into him. So from the outside transmigration and amnesia might look similar, but what really gets me is that the person you loved is gone completely and you might not even know it. With trope-y amnesia there's the chance that the memories can come back or a chance to make new ones, whereas with transmigration you'll be making those new memories with a different person.

All of that said, whether or not someone with amnesia considers themself to be the same person as before they got amnesia is an entirely other question that has different implications. (There was an interesting post that I reblogged recently on my main that this reminds me of. It's technically about resurrection, but I feel like it's still relevant.) My first paragraph was assuming more of a trope-y amnesia where "lost history" is the focus. A loss of self can be super angsty as well, but I feel like with loss of self I want to focus on the amnesiac and with loss of history (or transmigration) I want to focus on the loved ones, if that makes sense? It's a different flavor of angst.

TL;DR They're both angsty (and I love angst) but transmigration feels more final if you're emotionally attached to the person who was replaced imo

And now face blindness!! Another interesting question! I think I have less of a character that stands out to me as the one person that should have it, but I do have a scenario! I think it would be fun if whoever it is that has face blindness nails Mei Changsu as Xiao Shu right away bc they aren't focused on how different he looks so they can see the familiarity easier! (Which actually now that I think about it, kinda sounds exactly like what Tai Nai Nai did in canon)

And then actually I do have another answer that I think would be fun: Xiao Jingyu! Out here working hard and treating everyone with respect because he has a hard time distinguishing between them anyway, so he learned at a young age both 1) to be able to distinguish identity/rank by clothing and 2) that people are people

[flyingkoalaandsloths]

I see you have started to read the novel, what do you think of it? (Fall in Langya)

I skimmed past Xie Yu's banishment and started to read normally from there. I have only 3 chapters left which I am refusing to read. Because I know I will cry and I am not ready for that.

I liked it a lot. Some random thoughts:

First of all, I only read/attempted to read three fan-translated Chinese web novels and the translations for this one were far better than the other two. So kudos to the translators and kudos to the editor ❤.

I enjoyed the little differences between books and the show. Most of the time I found both versions good.

I was expecting to see more Mu Nihuang in the books but the existence of Nie Duo was refreshing. I like that Mu Nihuang was not stuck on a childhood arranged marriage. And her friendship with MCS was still very important, it was less heartbreaking than the show version. I give my blessings to Nihuang/Duo couple :D

The drama around Jingyan finding out was not lesser than the show version as I previously believed. Horse riding to the Su Manor and breakdown in the middle of the street? *chef's kiss*. But I think the poison non-drinking was a better choice since it also paralleled Jingyu's execution (fathers and sons and all) and showed how much Jingyan matured (and we got the breakdown on his mama's knees scene so no loss there heh).

Foya was a delight! But I didn't quite get the choice of Jingyan not witnessing the adorable bond between his wolf and his presumed dead-best friend. It was like a Chekhov's gun not firing. Also, introduction of Foya was very late. Thus, I approve the show's choice of cutting it (although their reason apparently is different).

The small changes in the show might have caused the "Show!Jingyan is not smart" misconception but I think the characterization of the book!Jingyan and the show!Jingyan was very similar. (ignoring the physical descriptions such as being a tank who can carry MCS like a princess in the books)

e.g. During their fight in the show: if there was no Consort Jing problem or if MCS had told him that they had already attempted rescue or if MCS allowed himself to be as sick as he actually was in front of Jingyan, he would not "cut the bell". Or in reverse, if there was a Consort Jing problem etc etc, book!Jingyan would be as furious as the show!Jingyan.

On the other hand, MCS is a little different in both versions. He seemed more fragile in the books. Or maybe that's the effect of being carried by Jingyan to his bed and taken care of 😍 (yeah I loved that scene).

While I think MCS's introduction in the show was awesome, him playing a string instrument (in the books) instead of a wind instrument (in the show) fits better because of his illness.

I approve of the increased screen time the show gave to Consort Jing. And they made her more subtle (e.g. she is not the one who proposes preparing a memorial for Consort Chen in the show). Well done.

On the other hand, I enjoyed a lot reading Cai Quan and Shen Zhui's book-only scenes.

Fei Liu with blades is scary..

Finally Xiao Jinghuan... I understand why the show made him Hua and I don't think it was a bad idea but it came with all bags of plotholes. The book version where this does not exist is neater.

[jiannguo]

Xiao Zhan Studio supports his co stars Huang Jingyu and Bai Baihe’s movie “The Procurator”

[rekishi-aka]

Three Nirvana in Fire recs

(Crossposted from DW)

11k words.

Summary: In the years following the Chiyan massacre, through the efforts of Jingyu's wife, her servant, Prince Ji, Consort Jing and Xiao Jingyan, Tingsheng is born and somehow survives in obscurity until he is rescued by Mei Changsu.

7k words

Summary: Sometimes you just need to talk things through with someone who understands. Two conversations between Liyang and Yan Que: after Xie Yu's death, and just before the Emperor's birthday party.

19k words

Summary: Eventually, he figures out that what Father really, truly wants is a son that he doesn’t have to worry about. One that he doesn’t have to think about.

Yujin wants his father to be happy.

So that’s the type of son he becomes.

[trisshawkeye]

Crown Prince Xiao Jingyu finds himself minding an errant Yan Yujin, and reflecting on the complex past their families share.

Xiao Jingyu & Yan Yujin, G

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My fic for the Nirvana In Fire Exchange, now author reveals have happened!

[jianghushenanigans]

Whumptober Day 10: "You said you'd never leave."

There’s a secret cabinet in Xiao Jingyan’s palace that holds memorial tablets for traitors. If anyone found out about it, everyone would find out about it, and Xiao Jingyan’s name would be included with theirs, and there would be no one left to honour to them.

So no one knows. Not even Lie Zhanying, who he trusts in everything but whose life he will not risk. Not even his mother, who he knows wants nothing more than for him to be alright. Not even Mei Changsu, who wants to know – who really should know – his every secret, so as best to advise him. To plot and scheme and lie for him.

No one knows.

He built it himself, in the dead of night, using what he knows of traps and weaponry to hide the mechanism to open it. He carved the tablets himself, crudely but with great care, more care than anyone showed them, back when they were still alive.

Xiao Jingyu. Lin Yueyao.

He repeats their names over and over to himself in his mind, a mantra.

Grand Princess Jinyang. Lin Xie.

The people he cannot forget. Who cannot be forgotten.

Lin Shu. Lin Shu. Lin Shu.

His mind, his heart, always catches there.

Lin Shu, xiao-Shu.

“Xiao-Shu.”

He clasps a hand over his mouth, but there is no one here to hear him. Not here, all alone in his locked room in the middle of the night, the only time he allows himself to think about them. The only time he allows himself to feel.

Lin Shu, xiao-Shu. His best friend, his everything.

“Xiao-Shu, where are you?” He’s crying. “Xiao-Shu, you said you’d never leave.”

“Xiao-Shu, come back.”

A tunnel away, Mei Changsu cannot sleep.

Crossposted here on ao3

[feng-huli]

Tea with Xiao Ruojin 🍵

[morifiinwe]

the father knows not the son

the son knows not the father

[tytangfei]

Thinking about how the childhood story of xiao jingyu falling into a lake and getting sickly was a red herring to explain why he was different instead of the fact that xiao jingyu was not actually the princess's son. In hindsight, xiao jinli is so much more similar to the princess such as their physical prowess and ability.

[acesgroupchat]

They march shoulder to shoulder, more than seventy thousand strong. Their feet beat perfect silent time on the polished stone floors. In death as in life their marshal leads them.

Father and son march side by side at the head of the column. Behind them, an army stretches in steadfast order, as far as the eye can see. Beside them, princesses, consorts, and ministers walk together, upright, proud, and certain. Together they come to the banks of the river. Together they go into the water, heads held high and steps in steady rhythm.

Lin Shu lets the water flow over his legs, swell against his chest, close over his head, and feels his soul washed clean. Beneath the water, his mother reaches out to take his hand.

The bright fields of the afterlife welcome them, and the makeshift camp of Chiyan’s dead becomes a bustling city. Her residents settle in and find themselves beginning to heal. Names, now restored, are hung with pride in doorways. The prayers of the living wind among them, bearing the faint perfume of incense in their wake. Older family members come to greet them and welcome them home. They are barely out of the river when Lin Shu raises his head and finds Tai Nai Nai standing before him, arms held out in welcome. She looks as frail as she had when he last saw her living, but her embrace is firm and certain.

It is all that was promised and more. Lin Shu watches as his parents settle into a new rhythm of social calls and easy activity. Aunt Yueyao is a frequent visitor, and Prince Qi joins her often, his wife and children tagging along. They are all eager for news of Tingsheng, and Lin Shu tells story after story, everything he knows of the last fourteen years, of Jingyan’s careful work and Tingsheng’s cautious joy. It is not the life that they had any of them expected or wished for, for Tingsheng or for themselves, but it is reason enough to hope, and for that they are all grateful. It is enough. It is perfect.

Even so, he finds himself walking often, to the edges of their little city, deep into the fields and along the riverbanks. His home is bright and full of easy conversation, a place of comfortable welcome. Beside the rushing waters is the only time he cannot hear the joyful laughter, which echoes in his ears everywhere he goes. He skips rocks through the current. Once, he thinks he sees one make it across to the black stone of the other bank.

He is on his way there when he turns a corner and finds himself somewhere else entirely. The faint scent of rot fills his mouth, and plum trees stretch before him as far as his eyes can see, full of a first delicate bloom. For a moment, it brings him to a stumbling halt. Not far from him, half sheltered under the branches of a tree, a figure in white turns toward him.

Lin Chen snorts, eyes sweeping over him. “It figures that you would be here. Grown bored again already?”

Mei Changsu takes one step towards him, then another and another. It is not far to walk, and Lin Chen meets him halfway.

It is easier, after that. His family home is open to him always, and he is there often, but just as often he finds himself wandering through the gardens, and through the various chambers and halls that are Lin Chen’s own, but which nevertheless open to him at the first thought, sometimes before he realizes exactly where his feet are carrying him. This is a source of endless amusement for Lin Chen, who has left off even feigning annoyance in favor of mocking Mei Changsu mercilessly for not realizing something that should, apparently, have been obvious.

“Really Changsu, when I said that the garden was closed to mortals what did you think I meant?”

“Fei Liu comes and goes as he pleases.”

Lin Chen snorts. “Fei Liu is the son of a nymph whose mother drowned herself in the river. He wouldn’t know mortality if it bit him.”

Fei Liu, who had been lounging on a branch above them, chooses this moment to throw most of an orange peel at Lin Chen’s head. Lin Chen grabs at his ankle, but Fei Liu springs up out of the branches, soaring away over the treetops and out of sight.  Lin Chen watches him leave before settling back against the tree trunk in a lazy sprawl. Mei Changsu lets their shoulders press together, stares up into the crowding leaves above them. He finds, though, after a moment, that he is not quite finished with this conversation.

“I cannot be the only mortal you have ever brought here.”

He should not be able to feel Lin Chen roll his eyes, and yet he does. “First of all, I have never brought you anywhere. I cannot be held responsible for your trespassing. Second of all, just who do you imagine I would have brought here? This is my private garden, where I come to retreat from the burdens of mortal suffering. Letting mortals in here entirely defeats the point.”

Mei Changsu pauses. He is not particularly inclined to let Lin Chen accuse him of jealousy, but the question has been nagging at him for some time. “What of the others who have shared your bed? You have brought none of them here?”

Lin Chen, as expected, bursts out laughing. The trees around them shake, raining down leaves and petals on them both, and Mei Changsu feels himself shaking where Lin Chen’s shoulder is pressed to his. Lin Chen laughs for an unreasonably long time, slowly tipping sideways with the force of his mirth until he is sprawled across Mei Changsu’s lap, grinning up at him. Mei Changsu waits very patiently as Lin Chen collects himself, though he does not stop giggling even as he even as he dries his eyes on his sleeve.

“What others? Changsu, I didn’t even have a bed until you decided I needed one in order to nurse you properly.”

“You didn’t have a bed?”

“Why would I? You know I don’t sleep, Changsu, we’ve been over this.”

Mei Changsu purses his lips rather than answer, but Lin Chen, predictably, reads the answer on his face anyway and succumbs once again to gales of laughter, swamping them both in drifts of flower petals. Mei Changsu decides that perhaps he will pay his parents a visit after all.

And it’s better, like this. Dividing his time between his family home and Lin Chen’s ever-changing halls and gardens. It is a paradise. It is more than anyone could ask or wish for. It is almost perfect.

“You miss him,” says Lin Chen. It breaks the lazy stillness of the garden, and Mei Changsu is forced to open an eye. When no further elaboration appears forthcoming, he hums an inquiry.

Lin Chen waves a hand, a broad, expansive gesture that sets the plum blossoms rustling. “Your prince. You have been pining for him, just as he pines for you.”

“I don’t pine,” he protests. Lin Chen gives him a flat look.

“He sends prayers to me as well, you know. It’s a habit he picked up during the many, many years you were so judiciously refraining from telling him where you were. I rather thought he would stop once this matter was resolved, but instead he has taken to pestering me after your wellbeing. Every day sending along his hopes that you are well cared for, and not being made to pay some absurd toll for his good fortune, and that you have everything that you might wish here in the afterlife. He has left you a staggering number of offerings, as I know you are keenly aware.”

Mei Changsu opens his mouth, and finds he has no words to answer. He closes it again. It is true that Jingyan’s prayers have become something of a constant companion. They are a treasured part of his existence, a devotion he does not deserve but clings to anyway. It is also true that he is beginning to worry for Jingyan. He does not know how much time has passed for Jingyan since his second death, but the grief that laces his prayers has only grown, shows no sign of abating. It is painful, to think of Jingyan in pain, and here in the underworld there is absolutely nothing that he can do to console him.

“You miss him, Changsu. Is it such a terrible thing to admit?”

He shuts his eyes. “There is nothing I can do for him now.”

Lin Chen chuckles. “Look at you, so aware of your condition. How you’ve grown.” When Mei Changsu swats at him, he catches his hand, twines their fingers together. For a moment, there is quiet. Then,

“What if there were a way for you to return?”

The words go through him like lightning, and he sits up. It jostles Lin Chen, who glares at him. His posture is still relaxed, but there is a weight to his gaze.

“You said it was impossible.”

Lin Chen doesn’t answer. An orange falls from the tree, into Lin Chen’s outstretched hand, and he begins to peel it, the soft skin parting easily beneath his long fingers, forming a long coil.

“Lin Chen. You said that it couldn’t be done. What do you mean?”

“I said that I would not, not that I could not.” Lin Chen sighs, and sits up. “It is a difficult thing, for a mortal to return to life once they have left it. Almost impossible, but not completely, as you yourself have experienced. For those who are not mortal, the matter is somewhat simpler.” His eyes meet Mei Changsu’s and his gaze is very sharp. “You have not been strictly mortal for some time now, Changsu.”

He swallows. “And you would let me go, just like that, if I asked?”

Lin Chen’s free hand catches the back of his head, and tugs him into a kiss. His mouth is firm and certain, and Mei Changsu finds himself melting into it when, just as suddenly as it began, the kiss ends, and Lin Chen pulls back. His smile is gentle, but there is heat in his eyes. “I know you will come back.”

Mei Changsu clears his throat. “And you would not mind if…”

Lin Chen laughs softly. “I have known your heart since well before you first stumbled into this garden. If I had minded, we would never have begun. He seems like a sensible person, far more sensible than you, in any case.” The last of the orange peel comes free, and Lin Chen sets it down carefully by his hip. “Jealousy is not in my nature, Changsu. You miss him. He misses you as well, clearly. If you wish to return to him, you can.”

His hands are shaking, he realizes. He closes his fingers in his own sleeve and tries to collect his thoughts. For all that it seems impossible, there can be no question of his answer. “How do I get there?”

With an easy, graceful motion, Lin Chen splits the orange in his hand, six segments coming off into his palm. “These will allow you to walk among the living without pain.” He presses five of the segments into Mei Changsu’s hand, the last held between his fingertips. “When they run out, it will be winter. Return to me then.”

He presses the final segment to Mei Changsu’s lips, fingertips dragging across his mouth as the fruit slides inside. The delicate skin breaks against his teeth and juice floods his mouth, bright and sweet, tasting only of sunlight. As the garden fades around him, Lin Chen’s voice echoes in his ear.

“I will be waiting, Mei Changsu.”