Chapter Text
You realized too late that your parents hadn’t promised not to meddle. Before you even met with Jiang Wanyin again, your mother requested last-minute that you join her on a trip to Gusu for a routine check on your family’s wares in Caiyi Town. She did not disclose that you were also meeting with the Gusu Lan sect leader regarding precious stone trade prices until you were literally on your way there.
At first, you were suspicious that she was taking advantage of your singular agreement to help with the family business—an attempt to teach you as much as possible while you were still willing to engage. Then, you discovered that, no, this was a shameless ploy to introduce you to more cultivators. Like preparation for handling your future in-laws.
When had you agreed to have anything to do with the cultivation world?!
Whether you liked it or not, your mother would shred you if you weren’t polite to the nice man in his endearingly silly forehead ribbon and billowy white robes (they kind of looked like funeral garb, but you extremely politely did not comment), so you politely responded to his polite greeting with a polite introduction as your mother’s offspring.
You, in fact, used the word “offspring.” Lan-zongzhu found it funnier than your mother did.
“It’s very nice to meet you, guniang,” Lan Xichen said with a kind smile. You also very politely did not grouch about how every cultivator you’d ever seen was a peerless beauty. How was that fair to the rest of you?! It wasn’t like you were hideous yourself, but someone average didn’t stand a chance when the top cultivators were out here looking like descended immortals with perfect hair and a subtle glow to their skin like they moisturized it with moonstones and stardust.
Maybe that was the real reason you should’ve focused on your cultivation studies. Forget power, you needed that ethereal vibe.
Shedding your inner turmoil for the time being, you cupped your hands and returned the sect leader’s smile. “Thank you for allowing me to sit in on this meeting, Lan-zongzhu.”
Yes, you were being passive-aggressive about getting dragged along without proper disclosure, but your mother couldn’t do more than squeeze your knee in warning as she took over for you.
“It’s our pleasure to have this discussion with you again, Zewu-jun,” she said warmly.
Your family was mostly exclusive in its dealings, save for the large-scale charity work that your maternal grandparents ran in their quote-unquote retirement. High quality meant high expenses, so your customer demographic followed suit; you didn’t discriminate in where you sold your goods (such as the shop you just checked on in Caiyi Town), but you invested the most resources in and therefore made the most money from the enormously wealthy factions of the country. There was no doubt that your parents had met with the Lans before, and it didn’t surprise you that your mother got along exceptionally with Lan Xichen. He seemed like the earnest, responsible type, which was right up your mother’s alley. Honestly, it was more surprising that she wasn’t trying to set you up with him, considering she’d mentioned he was unmarried as well.
Then again, she’d also said he’d been in mourning for some close family for a long time, so maybe she felt him more sensitive than the probably equally traumatized Jiang Wanyin. Who knew. You didn’t really keep up with cultivation stuff. There was a war around the time you turned double digits, or something. That still didn’t excuse the funeral-white that the Lans were notorious for—but you’d keep your mouth shut on their dress code.
“I’m sorry my uncle couldn’t attend today,” Lan Xichen said as the tea house served drinks and adorably tiny cakes for the three of you.
“That’s quite alright,” your mother assured. “I’m sure he has lots to attend to.”
Lan Xichen gave a sort of pained smile. “Naturally.”
From there, you zoned out somewhat, blandly paying attention when it felt necessary. You didn’t take for granted that your mother was lenient on your focus, perhaps as an implied apology for forcing you along. The mini cakes were delicious and paired well with the tea, but you could never get the timing right on the drink’s temperature and had to stew in your burnt-tongue misery in respectful silence.
“—Indeed, she’s starting a new project in our attempts to branch out into Yunmeng’s cultivation sector,” you heard your mother say, and you nearly spilled your third cup of tea over the shock of such blatant steering of the conversation. This gave you two seconds to open your mouth and interject, but Lan Xichen had already turned to you with such an interested smile that you wilted.
“You’ve met with Jiang-zongzhu, then?” You straightened up with a quick nod. Lan Xichen thumbed at the rim of his empty teacup, his eyes curved in fondness. “His personality is, ah, unconventional; it may take some patience, but I do hope you allow his positive attributes to shine through.”
Something about that gave you pause. “Ah, um, sure…” you uttered, brows furrowing. “He’s not that hard to understand.”
“Of course, I meant no offense,” Lan Xichen corrected. He regarded you, a subtle curiosity in his gaze. “His reputation surely precedes him—I simply wanted to assure you he is a good man.”
You hummed in response, suspicion bubbling up. Eyes narrowed, you kept your voice as casual as possible as you said, “Yeah. Is Jiang-zongzhu really so disagreeable that you must convince me of his virtue, like it’s not plain to see?”
Your mother muttered your name, but you ignored the chastisement and kept your eyes on Lan Xichen. His lips turned in a light frown, still handsome but now in a sad way that made you feel kind of guilty.
“Perhaps I misspoke,” he said carefully. “I have known Jiang-zongzhu for a long time, and I wanted to encourage any willingness to work with him. It was not my intention to gossip. I apologize.” He appeared troubled.
“That’s not what I,” you said with some strain, but your mother intervened.
“Your apology is not necessary, Lan-zongzhu,” she said, squeezing your knee so you wouldn’t chime in again. “My daughter has a good opinion of Jiang-zongzhu, so she must be surprised to hear that others might not.” When you tried to interrupt, your mother cut you a look that sent a stone into your stomach.
“Oh,” Lan Xichen said with an air of surprise that further bothered you. “That’s good to hear.”
He appeared wary for the final handful of minutes of small talk between him and your mother; you felt bad for ruining the mood, but who did he think he was to badmouth Jiang-zongzhu like that?! Sure, he was an esteemed sect leader and had both the status and experience to critique Jiang Wanyin, but still!
“Is there anything else to discuss before we part ways?” Lan Xichen asked, eyes flicking between your mother and you.
Predictably, your mother turned to you with an expectant lift of her brows. A short sigh burst through your nose, and you cupped your hands and tilted your head deferentially.
“This one apologizes for the… disrespect, and such,” you muttered. Your eyes lifted, gauging Lan Xichen’s reaction; he seemed like he hadn’t expected or even needed you to say sorry, so you straightened up and didn’t bother whole-assing the apology. “Also,” you added, pointing toward your forehead, “do you all get weird sunburns wearing that in the summer? Wait,” you smacked your hand lightly on the table, “there’s no way you get sunburns. Tan lines?”
Lan Xichen blinked. Then, he cracked a smile, and his soft laughter made your shoulders loosen.
“My brother-in-law was concerned—or, rather, amused about the same thing,” he said wryly. “In fact, he’s been testing talismans on our juniors for the better part of three years, since he came to live with us.” His gaze slid to the nearby window, where the sun was drifting slowly into view. It didn’t seem like he was completely present, in that moment. “He and my brother recently returned from some weeks of travel, and I’m to meet them before I return to Cloud Recesses.”
“Ooh,” you said without thinking. It had been a while since you were reminded of the elegant name of Gusu Lan’s estate. The mental image was so arresting, you made a note to check around Caiyi Town for paintings of the nearby sect before you left.
Serene brown eyes returned to you, making your heart skip a beat from nerves. This guy’s opinion of you was at rock bottom by now, right? Regardless of business relations, that’d totally suck.
So you scrambled for something to add. “I mean, the Cloud Recesses sound lovely. And, um, your brother-in-law sounds… relatable…?” Under the patient scrutiny of Zewu-jun’s gaze, your ideas fizzled out like the vestiges of cooking oil on a hot pan. You offered a thin-lipped smile, hating yourself a little bit for being so unable to hold your tongue.
For better or worse, your mother took pity on you before Lan Xichen tipped one way or the other. “We won’t take up more of your time, then,” she interjected smoothly. “It’s been a pleasure, as always.”
Lan Xichen inclined his head, his smile seeming to soften. “Likewise, Madam.” When he looked at you again, you wondered if you ought to make another attempt to humble yourself to him. Then, lips quirked oddly, he said, “My brother-in-law happens to have had a close relationship with Jiang-zongzhu in the past.”
Ah…?
He continued with that strange sense of distance, “Perhaps I may be speaking out of turn, but…” Trailing off, he shook his head, leaving you mystified and more intrigued than was fair. “Disregard this old man’s wistful ramblings. I fear I am still not myself, despite leaving seclusion so long ago.”
Lan Xichen began to lower himself, but you hurriedly waved your hands with enough vigor that he was distracted out of his bow. “Please don’t do that, Zongzhu, no one’s here to take offense,” you said, doing your utmost not to sound desperate for him to proceed with his thoughts.
Glancing over at your mother, you took suspicious note that she was sitting in silence instead of chatting away; she usually did so without a care in the world after the conclusion of any meeting, so long as she was in friendly company. Instead, she wore a mild expression, neutral save for the eyebrow she raised when your eyes met, as if to say, I did my part. Clean up your own mess, you impolite child.
Eh. Fair enough.
So, left once more to your own devices as Lan Xichen appeared at a loss, you said, “You’re not old at all, Lan-zongzhu.” (An understatement—you didn’t know his age, but his beauty and grace smacked you in the face every time you looked at him.) “Also, you didn’t technically answer my question. Weird tan lines or no?”
That didn’t appease your mother; you could practically feel her struggling to suppress the urge to facepalm. But! It got Lan Xichen to crack another smile, so she was not allowed to complain about your methods!
“Our young ones sometimes fall victim in the sunny months if they’re not careful,” he confirmed. His fingers idly trailed along the lower edge of his forehead ribbon, and your impulses yelled and shouted to reach out and tug on it. Obviously, you did not do that, because you knew how to keep your hands to yourself, even if your brain-to-mouth filter wasn’t so capable. “Fortunately, only family and significant others bear witness when this happens. Though, many achieve proper cultivation before they’re permitted to mingle.” His hand lowered, but you couldn’t help eyeing the faint blue cloud pattern woven into the ribbon. “Beyond that, we are spared of the sun’s wrath.”
Your answered question aside, you could put together the puzzle pieces: The forehead ribbons stayed on when around strangers. Got it. Cool cool cool. Amazing.
That did not help the temptation to tug on the dangling fabric!
You remained steadfast. “Well, direct me towards your brother-in-law sometime,” you said solemnly. “I’m very interested in his talisman work.”
It was meant to be a joke, but Lan Xichen opted not to take it as one… for some reason.
“I have a feeling you would get along with him, guniang.” The thoughtful look that appeared made your stomach flip. Did you accidentally give him an idea?! “You said you were expanding your business horizons?”
Heart in your throat, you nodded.
Lan Xichen mirrored you. “My brother-in-law, Wei Ying, is very experienced with the regional difficulties of Yunmeng. Perhaps…” He hesitated, but you didn’t interrupt. “Perhaps you could work with him, or have him work with your engineers. If you’re willing to integrate cultivation practices into your craft.”
Well. That was a strong networking offer. In several avenues.
No pressure!
You couldn’t bear to look at your mother in this moment, so you dropped your gaze in order to gather yourself. In the end, there was only one answer to give.
“That would actually be really great,” you said, wearing a tentative smile. “I have a little cultivation knowledge, so either way this will be a good learning experience. Provided your brother-in-law is interested too,” you added.
“I’m sure he,” Lan Xichen started, but cut himself off with a wry press of his lips. “He will be interested in meeting such a bright individual as yourself,” he redirected.
A minute ago he’d said this Wei Ying guy used to have a close relationship with Jiang Wanyin. So there was probably some bad blood there, considering Jiang Wanyin’s personality…
“Many thanks for this opportunity, Lan-zongzhu,” you said with a bow.
“It’s no trouble, Miss.”
At long last, your mother spoke up for the final pleasantries before departing. As you paid for your time in the tea house and took your leave together, something itched at the back of your memory. Watching Lan Xichen sweep away with his elegant (and still very funeral-y) white robes to meet his brother and his brother’s husband, you turned over your limited jianghu knowledge in your mind.
Lan Xichen, Zewu-jun… brother of Hanguang-jun, Lan Wangji… Lan Wangji, married to…
… who had a relationship with the Jiangs…
Standing outside the humble tea shop in Caiyi Town, your head abruptly grew faint.
Did you just get yourself into contact with the Yiling Laozu?!
~
For self-preservation reasons, you chose to keep that little detail a personal secret.
Listen, you liked gossip just as much as the next guy—the nosiness helped fuel your creative juices, and what’s wrong with that?—but as a good, self-aware citizen of the world, you always took it with a healthy dose of skepticism. You never really believed that the Yiling Laozu (Wei Wuxian, as you promptly refreshed your memory upon rushing to your home library) was some irredeemable monster who ate orphans and sacrificed virgins at the Burial Mounds. Heck, you probably would’ve been one of those sacrificed virgins if you’d traveled to Yiling around the time of the Sunshot Campaign. You were barely into your teens at that point, so your attention was elsewhere and you could no longer remember if your family’s business practices had been affected by the war.
Nonetheless, you had heard when the Yiling Laozu was resurrected a few years ago and his reputation resurged as a hero rather than a villain. A few cursory go-arounds at your favorite taverns gave you much gossip material, but the most that came from it was a few extra spicy demon-flavored fantasies sent out to Songbird for distribution, netting you a small fortune and both fanmail and hate mail in droves.
Anyway. Wei Wuxian, Wei Ying, whatever—he was spoken of fondly by his brother-in-law who was the mellowest person you’d ever met, so he couldn’t possibly be that bad. And yeah, Jiang Wanyin had a reputation back in the day for torturing demonic cultivators, ostensibly because he was searching for his dead-but-now-not-dead brother-or-best-friend-or-shixiong, but there hadn’t been any torture-related gossip coming from Yunmeng Jiang in a long while, so… so…
You didn’t know what to think. More than anything, you were aware that your viewpoint was the tiniest brushstroke of the whole painting that made up the messy relationship between the Jiangs and the Yiling Laozu. As a resident of Yunmeng, you were privy to some basic information: Lotus Pier had been slaughtered by the Wen clan, beginning the era of the Sunshot Campaign, and Jiang Wanyin had inherited the sect very young. Any other details were fuzzy to you, and no doubt relentlessly touched by the greasy fingers of gossip. There was no way you could ask Jiang Wanyin to let you in on his tragic past—aside from preferring not to walk into an early death, a part of you hoped that he would come to trust you enough to tell you on his own. That was a far stretch, though, so you mostly just didn’t want to dredge up old wounds.
So when you received word from Lan Xichen informing you of an impending letter from Wei Wuxian, you decided to keep that to yourself, too.
Placing Lan Xichen’s letter with care into your cabinet of personal correspondence, you heaved a weary sigh. At least four distinguished cultivators now, you’d somehow come to bother.
What had you gotten yourself into?