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Chapter Text

It really was just bad luck. Just as some are born under a star of fortune, some are cursed with a lifetime of misfortune and despair.

So when the bracket holding up the cabinets failed, sending shelves of plates crashing down on Jiang Cheng’s head, it truly wasn’t anyone’s fault. It wasn’t that the cabinets were poorly installed, it wasn’t that the plates were overloading the shelves, it wasn’t that the drywall was never strong enough to hold in the brackets. No; it was just plain old bad luck. It wasn’t even Friday the 13^th, it was just a normal Friday.

The plates that crashed from above just happened to startle Jiang Cheng into knocking a just-finished-cooking pot of soup onto the floor, just happened to cause Jiang Cheng to slip and hit his head on the edge of the counter, knocking the man out. Jiang Cheng just happened to collapse on a shattered piece of plate, and it just happened that that piece of plate sliced straight through an artery on his thigh.  

Jiang Cheng just happened to die. It was truly nothing but an accident.

Really, they shouldn’t have let him live alone in the first place. The man had been cursed with bad luck since he was just a little baby; hadn’t it been obvious to his family? One can suffer only so many accidental breaks and bruises before even the most agnostic of humans start to wonder whether there really is a God, and whether that God is truly out to get them.

Jiang Cheng didn’t believe in higher powers of any sort. He was the sort of man to believe only in his own actions, and that any outcome was a consequence thereof.

Even though he would have been one of the few humans justified in believing in the existence of a higher power. 

But back to the main point – why was he living on his own? The man was a danger to himself, if not to others. His uniquely bad fortune would never affect those around him; no, the misfortune that befell would only hurt himself. Honestly, it was like he was a black hole of misfortune – you could almost take him around as a protective amulet, and he’d absorb all the bad luck that was meant for you.

Ah, we’re getting off track again. The answer, though, is quite obvious. Let’s take a look, shall we? Let’s see what happened after Jiang Cheng died.

Day One

The soup on the floor evaporated.

Day Two

The veggies in the soup were beginning to wrinkle and stink.

Day Three

Yes, things were beginning to smell quite putrid.

Day Four

A call! Ah, but it was only from the local public library – your book is ready to pick up.

Day Five

Oh, a real call this time! Looks like one of his co-workers, or maybe his boss, at Jiang Corp. They’re worried about him, Jiang Cheng’s never missed so many days of work before, it’s Wednesday and he hasn’t been in since Monday. They hope you aren’t feeling too ill. Call back once you’re feeling better – don’t worry about the sick days, and take a couple extra even after you start to feel better. They’re glad you’re getting some time off, you’re always overworking yourself.

Jiang Cheng’s colleagues at Jiang Corp know that he’s a little cursed. Like clockwork, someone always spills some coffee on the important papers, the network always crashes before Jiang Cheng’s saved some big project. Corrupted saves? M365 mystery issues? Laptop just decides to not turn on? Always Jiang Cheng.

But Jiang Cheng, the responsible and hardworking man that he is, takes unpaid overtime to make up for those hours lost. He’s always the first one to arrive, the last one to leave. Despite everything, Jiang Cheng’s work is always impeccable, and he’s always held himself accountable to the work he does.

His co-workers love him. Is Jiang Cheng a cranky guy? Sure, they’d answer, but if I were cursed with all the universes microaggressions I’d be cranky too! And besides, Jiang Cheng’s snippy, not mean. In a corporate environment, everyone’s worked with truly mean people in toxic departments. Working with Jiang Cheng was a breath of fresh air – always fair, always honest, never neglecting his work. That was better than the backstabbers in Wen Corp’s marketing department, always smiling, always waiting for someone to slip up so they could trample them into the dirt.

Jiang Cheng, your co-workers miss you. But they don’t know where you live.

Day Six

Oh goodness, the smell is beginning to seep into the apartment hallways. The neighbour knocked on his door, then cursed when no-one opened. They’d been smelling something off for days now, but he’s been such a good neighbour – well, non-disruptive neighbour – that they were loathe to accuse him of any misdoing. But it’s been six days of the smell accumulating in his apartment. Soon, they’ll call the strata manager. But guess what? He’s not renting – he bought this apartment all on his own – his Strata manager won’t know how to contact his next of kin.

Day Seven

It’s been a week! Congratulations on joining us! It hurts, doesn’t it, Jiang Cheng, to know that no-one’s found your body yet? Let’s see, who knows you live here? Your sister, your brother. Nie Huaisang. That’s about it, isn’t it? You don’t really realize how little contact you have with the outside world until you’re counting on them to find your dead body. Perhaps your family would never find your body, if it weren’t for the little monthly function your sister’s throwing tomorrow. Or perhaps they would – Wei Wuxian would have called you with some problem of his at some point, Jin Ling might’ve wanted to come visit you soon, but that’s definitely a question of sooner or later.

Hey – at least your neighbours haven’t broken down your door yet. Small comforts, right?

Oh, the phone’s ringing. The caller ID shows… it’s your local representative, calling for your support. That’s one call you’ll be glad to miss!

Saturday Brunch

Let’s change the scene from your rotting body for a moment, shall we? Oh, don’t worry, I’m keeping tabs there in case somebody calls you. But I’d think all the calls to you today would originate from here, no? It’s time for Saturday Brunch!

The staff at the restaurant quite look forward to receiving you and your siblings during your monthly brunches, you know? Jiang Yanli frequents this establishment quite often, she’s a regular customer, and all the staff love her to pieces. She’s kind and she tips well, of course, not that you need me to tell you any of that, but some people would benefit from the context. Jiang Yanli is truly a saint walking on this earth – that is, if saints existed. And when the siblings are brought in? Well, Wei Wuxian is always a hoot, and his boyfriend is the subject of much jealousy behind the scenes. Jiang Cheng, well, you’re definitely a looker, but you interact so rarely with the staff that they don’t really know anything about you! All they know is that you have the softest smile when you talk to your sister, and that’s enough to get half the staff daydreaming of that same smile being aimed at them. The other half’s frightened of the you that scowls at your brother.

What? I’m telling the truth! Anyways, hush your protesting – here comes Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan.

They always arrive ten minutes early – you and I both know you always arrive five minutes early, and Wei Wuxian arrives anywhere between 10 minutes to an hour late. You treasure this time, don’t you? Being alone with your sister for just a little bit. Sure, Jin Zixuan’s there, but he’s surprisingly kind, isn’t he? You’d never say it out loud, but you’re glad that your sister married him. Even if you’re dead, you can count on Jin Zixuan always being there for your sister. What’s that? No retorts for me this time?

Anyways, it seems like the five minutes have passed.

Shall we listen in on their conversation? It’s not a violation of privacy, you’re dead! Who are you going to tell?

---------------

Jiang Yanli frowned. “A-Cheng’s still not here, A-Xuan. He’s never been late before.”

“Well, technically, he’s early,” Jin Zixuan muttered. “But maybe we should call? He might be running late for some reason.”

Jin Zixuan passed over Jiang Yanli’s purse, knowing that Jiang Cheng would be more likely to pick a call with the ID Jiang Yanli than Jin Zixuan.

---------------

Jiang Yanli’s dialing your number. I can hear the phone ringing and buzzing on your countertop. Is that a custom ringtone you have just for your sister? I’d call you gross, but honestly, it’s more cute than anything.

It’s good you were charging your phone before you died.

---------------

“No response,” Jiang Yanli said, pursing her lips. “You don’t think something’s happened? He’s not like A-Xian, he’d at least message us if he wasn’t going to show up.”

“Maybe we should wait for Wei Wuxian to come, he might know?” Jin Zixuan suggested.

“I’m calling A-Xian.”

----------------

It looks like your sister really is unsettled by your not being there. Hey, why are you crying? Shouldn’t you be glad that your sister noticed something wrong?

This is the reason why you never killed yourself, you say. It hurts to see your sister worried about you.

Well, you were always good at predicting the outcomes of your actions. I’m sorry that this wasn’t something you could control. But you can’t look away, not yet.

You don’t want to watch?

Once again, I’m sorry to say that this isn’t something you can control.

----------------

“A-jie, I’m not even late yet, it’s only five past the meeting time!” Wei Wuxian whined over the phone. “I’m on my way, I promise, I just need to finish this one last thing – “

“A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli interrupted, something very uncharacteristic of her. “Have you heard from A-Cheng lately?”

A pause.

“Is Jiang Cheng not there yet?”

“He’s not.”

“Maybe he’s just sleeping in! I’ve heard his department is working on a pretty big project, and you know how Jiang Cheng gets with those mega-projects.”

“A-Xian, you know Jiang Cheng wouldn’t miss brunch without even saying anything. I think we should go check on him, make sure he’s not super sick or anything.”

“Sounds good, A-Jie! I’ll meet you at Jiang Cheng’s apartment, I swear we’re on our way out. You want me to bring anything on the way?”

Jiang Yanli looked at her husband, who shook his head. He’ll be even later, Jin Zixuan mouthed, if you give him errands.

“Thank you for offering, A-Xian, but no need. I’ll bring along some food for everyone. See you there.”

-----------------

Looks like they’re packing up. Hope you don’t have anything lying around that you don’t want people to see, A-Cheng!

Oh, man. You’re actually panicking. Your room isn’t that messy, I’ve seen it – it’s super tidy!

Hm? Yeah, your meds are on the table where you always leave them. Don’t tell me you never told your siblings…

Of course you never told them.

Well, if it’s of any solace, I believe that your dead body might come as a bigger shock than the fact you’re taking meds for anxiety. Oh right, you can’t smell, can you. Well, I can tell you that your apartment is rank. Wait, don’t tell me you forgot about the fact your body’s slowly rotting in a pile of spilled soup?

Seems like even ghosts can have panic attacks, huh. Here, take deep breaths. In, and out. In, and out.

----------------

Jiang Yanli wrinkled her nose at the smell wafting through the apartment hallways.

“A-Xuan, what’s that smell?”

Jin Zixuan looked green. “It stinks, A-Li, that’s all I know.”

And the smell only grew stronger as they approached Jiang Cheng’s door.

“You don’t think that’s coming from Jiang Cheng’s place, do you?” Jin Zixuan asked, sounding as if he were on the verge of absolutely losing his lunch all over the dreary carpeted hallway.

Jiang Yanli didn’t answer.

They stopped in front of apartment 404.

They knocked.

No response.

“A-Xuan, give me my purse for a second. I have A-Cheng’s spare key on my keyring.”

Jin Zixuan dutifully passed the purse he was carrying to Jiang Yanli, who dug expertly through the folds of the purse to pull out a keyring, passing the purse back into Jin Zixuan’s arms.

The key fit perfectly in the lock, and with a smooth turn, the lock clicked open.

They opened the door.

The smell rushed out of the apartment door, Jin Zixuan immediately gagging. If he didn’t love Jiang Yanli as much as he did, he would have fled like a bat out of hell. Instead, he held back the bile rising in his throat and followed Jiang Yanli into the apartment.

They didn’t have to go very far to find the rotting body of Jiang Cheng on the floor.

Chapter Text

Oh, there goes Jin Zixuan into the bathroom, absolutely losing it. Jiang Yanli truly is the tougher one in the relationship – she is Yu Ziyuan’s daughter, after all, no matter how loathe either of them are to admit it. Look how calm she is, holding back every instinct to scream and run away, letting her tears just stream quietly down her face. There she is, just kneeling next to you, unafraid to reach out her hand.

A little hesitant, sure, but who wouldn’t be? You’re lucky you keep your apartment clean – there’s no flies laying eggs in your corpse just yet. Or maybe there are, and we just can’t see them.

…That was fast. Jin Zixuan’s back already, not wanting to leave his wife’s side despite his veritable disgust at this whole rotting body situation.

That’s not to say he’s not sad for you though! To be fair to him, I don’t think the man’s processed that you’re dead – he’s always been a little slow on the uptake when it comes to how he feels. Kind of like you, honestly. Maybe that’s why the two of you manage to get along surprisingly well.

Hey now, don’t ignore me. Stop turning your eyes away from the situation.

You’re dead, Jiang Cheng. You’re dead, and your sister finally found your body. Now you can be laid to rest in a somewhat timely manner. You should be grateful.

Hey! What did you swing at me for?!? Not that it’s going to work, you being incorporeal and all, but that seriously hurt my feelings.

What about your feelings? What, so I’m supposed to put on the baby gloves because you’re sad that your sister’s sad?

Actually, maybe you’ve got a point.

---------------

“That’s – Jiang Cheng?” Jin Zixuan whispered, placing a tentative hand on his wife’s back. “We – we should call…”

Who did you call when you found a dead body? It certainly wasn’t an emergency anymore, so 911 seemed excessive, but somehow calling the non-emergency line felt… disrespectful. And it wasn’t as if this were a crime scene – it looked like one, sure, but all the evidence, the cracked plates and the overturned pots, and everything else untouched and unmoved, the phone still charging on the kitchen island – it seemed like it was just an accident.

Oh god. He wanted to throw up. Again.

Jiang Cheng had died in an accident, and no-one had known for however long it took for a dead body to turn this way.

He could feel his wife shuddering and heaving beneath his hand as he slowly rubbed her back.

“A-Li, let’s step out for a moment. We should call Wei Wuxian.”

Get some fresh air, he thought, but he was fairly certain that the stink was imprinted on his mind for at least the next week.

He helped Yanli up – she was silent, but trembling so hard she could barely walk. Step by step, slowly, they left the apartment behind them.

The door clicked shut with an eerie finality.

--------------

They’ve left. For now, anyways. So far, they haven’t noticed your meds.

Hm? No, you don’t have any weird poltergeist powers to mind-handle the medication into the dumpster. That comes way later, and Jiang Cheng, you probably don’t want to stick around long enough to start manifesting those powers anyways.

Yeah, yeah, I know you want to stay long enough to at least see Jin Ling grow up – but aren’t you being a little hypocritical? Or maybe hypocritical isn’t the right word. But anyways – how are you going to turn away now and watch later? If you can’t even stand watching how this plays out, how are you going to last long enough to watch Jin Ling grow up?

Time passes differently when you’re no longer bound to carbon...  

Ah, Jiang Cheng, you tricky bastard. You’re trying to distract me! That’s not going to work. Nope – let’s go outside too – we’ve got a phone call to listen in on!

You can’t fight it, Jiang Cheng. I’m stronger than you. I’ve been here much, much longer than you.

-------------------

“What did you just say?”

Wei Wuxian’s voice crackled over the phone, clearly still in his house and on speakerphone. On any other day, Jin Zixuan would have been annoyed. But the disbelief, the confusion, the blank shock in his brother-in-law’s voice was a perfect reflection of his feelings in this particular moment, and he couldn’t find it in him to feel anything other than –

Well, he didn’t know, really. We went over this, right? Zixuan’s still not that in touch with his emotions.

Anyways.

“Jiang Cheng’s dead.” Jin Zixuan repeated.

Jiang Yanli still couldn’t find it in her to open her mouth – she was fairly certain that if she tried to speak only an inhuman wail would tear out of her throat.

There was a pause – Wei Wuxian didn’t know how to react to this news.

“His apartment stinks.” Jin Zixuan blurted out, before immediately regretting everything as he felt Yanli’s breath hitch. “Sorry.” He mumbled.

“You’re not kidding.” Wei Wuxian said, flat and emotionless.

“Looks like it was an accident…” Jin Zixuan offered weakly. “A cabinet fell on top of him.”

“An accident.”

“There were no signs of a break in.  There’s a pot. Probably there was soup, and it spilled.”

Jin Zixuan didn’t know what he was saying. Of course not – he was still processing the information himself as it exited piece by piece from his mouth.

“The soup. Was spilled.”

Wei Wuxian was beginning to sound like a broken record, parroting back Jin Zixuan’s words. Likely also processing the information that was being suddenly thrust upon him.

A few moments of silence passed, punctuated only by Jiang Yanli’s harsh breathing.

“A-Jie.” Wei Wuxian said abruptly, probably hearing the gasping. “Is A-Jie there? Is she alright?”

“A-Li’s here.” Jin Zixuan replied, refusing to comment on his wife’s current state for fear that he would make it worse.  “A-Li’s here.” He repeated.

There was another pause.

“I’ll be there.”

Click.

The phone hanging up seemed to be the last straw for Jiang Yanli, who suddenly turned and pulled Jin Zixuan towards her, burying her face in his chest, letting her despair scream out against him.

Jin Zixuan could only helplessly hug her back.

He didn’t notice his own eyes turning wet.

--------------------

I’m sorry, Jiang Cheng. Smell is one of the last senses to come back, but hearing – you’ll always be able to hear, no matter how hard you try to tear your ears off your head.

This isn’t some form of torture, I promise you that much. It’s just that –

I’m sorry. This is – your sister truly loved you, didn’t she?

You doubted it in the past, didn’t you? That you were just an afterthought? That your sister only loved you out of obligation, that she’d be sad for a while but get over it?

And that was enough for you to not die, because you didn’t want Jiang Yanli to go through any amount of pain for you.

Like I said, it should be of comfort to you to know that your sister truly, truly did love you, even if she forgot to give you a birthday present that one time, but she still remembered to give Wei Wuxian one.

But I can see you’re not very comforted.

--------------------

It’s barely been 10 minutes since the phone call, but Wei Wuxian’s red Camaro’s about to pull up with a screech into the apartment parking lot.

Who knows how many red lights the man had ran to get here so quickly?

Well, technically I do. I would’ve dragged us over there, but all he did was run to his car and drive like a maniac, and in complete silence. The worst part is that stickler Lan Wangji didn’t even stop him!

He ran 5 red lights and stopped at 3. I promise you he was being a safe-ish driver – the roads where he ran the reds were perfectly clear. He heard your voice in the back of his head berating him for being a reckless driver, all those times you yelled at him from the back seat as he laughed and accelerated.

Ah, there they are, pulling in now.

And look at Jiang Yanli. A mere 10 minutes and look how composed she is now. Can’t even tell that she was bawling into Jin Zixuan’s shirt – well, you can tell she was bawling, her eyes are pretty swollen.

Hey, like I said, there’s no use in running away. Watch and listen, Jiang Cheng. There’s no avoiding it if you want to move on.

There’s no avoiding it even if you didn’t.

---------------------

Wei Wuxian sprinted towards Jin Zixuan and his sister, who were sitting on the curb near the entrance.

“A-Jie!”

Jiang Yanli gave a stiff nod, standing up and nearly falling over were it not for her husband and brother catching her on either side.

Wei Wuxian shifted awkwardly, glancing at his sister, then his boyfriend, then his brother-in-law. Hatching a plan, you might say.

“Hey, uh, Lan Zhan, can you stay here with A-Jie for a minute while Jin Zixuan takes me up?”

“Of course” Said Lan Wangji.

“No.” Said Jiang Yanli, voice shaky but firm. “I’m coming too.”

“A-Li, there’s no need to force yourself,” Jin Zixuan murmured.

“I’m not forcing myself, Zixuan. This is my brother. I can handle it.” She spat, voice harsh, before she seemed to realize what she just said – how she just said it.

“A-Xuan,” she said softer this time. “I can’t stay down here. I just can’t. I have to – I have to be there.”

“We’ll all go.” Lan Wangji offered. “We’ll all go.”

Wei Wuxian looked hesitant, obviously not wanting his sister to face the sight of her dead brother again.

But Jiang Yanli’s mind is set – she has the same stubborn expression as you, Jiang Cheng, and Wei Wuxian can recognize it immediately.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

And there they go. If it weren’t for the context, it’d look like a happy family coming to visit their brother.

Actually, that’s a lie. They all look fairly miserable. It’d look more like a happy family coming to visit their least favourite relative. But again, context.

Families are rarely so silent when they go anywhere together, your family even more so.

---------------------

“Shit,” Wei Wuxian mumbled. “Shit.”

Wei Wuxian’s tolerance for dead bodies comes from the fact he’s worked with them, after all, but the dead body of your brother just hits different. He doesn’t feel queasy or anything – sure, it reeks, but no more than any other dead body, no, he just feels a little bit –

Untethered.

Jiang Cheng’s really dead. The whole family’s here now, and they can all look at each other and confirm that this isn’t some sort of collective hallucination, that there’s a well rotten body on the floor of Jiang Cheng’s apartment.

Laying in front of him is the dead body of his brother, the one who was always a stickler for making sure that any building he was going to live in was built to code, the one who did research to make sure he wasn’t living in a flood plane or a fire valley. The one who was endlessly paranoid of gas explosions, making sure that there were no gas lines in the building he was living in. The one who was always, so, so meticulous to the point of ridiculousness.

His brother was dead, and it was an accident. Next to him was a pot, probably once holding soup.

A goddamn accident.

--------------------

You were always a little paranoid, weren’t you? Although at the end of the day, it was only your anxiety speaking. That, and the fact that nothing ever goes your away.

You had a lot to be anxious about, didn’t you? Not living up to your potential, not performing, always fucking everything up – you couldn’t afford to fail. Yet even with all your effort, things always manage to go wrong. How would you not be anxious?

You’d stay up all night, wouldn’t you? While your brother went out partying, while your sister understood that there was no more need for her to please the parents – you tried so hard.

What was it? That good old Linkin Park song? You tried so hard, but it doesn’t even matter.

Here you are. Still a fucking failure. Died in an accident of all things. How embarrassing.

Yeah, that’s right. We’re dead.

But how long have we been dead, huh? How long really?

…but enough of that, Jiang Cheng. Wei Wuxian’s knows people, and he’ll get your apartment cleaned up and your body out of here.

Funny enough, none of them have bothered stepping foot into your bedroom. Probably because they’re distracted by the body in the kitchen, but they’ll have to clean out your apartment soon enough. For now, though, your secrets haven’t been exposed.

Hm? What am I talking about? Haha, patience was never your strong suit, was it, Jiang Cheng? Which is funny, because you’re always patient. You never do anything. You always wait for things to happen. Always reacting, never acting.

That’s why you’re dead. And they’re not.

Enough of this. Let’s turn your attention back to the living for the moment – if you don’t get your head screwed on straight, you’ll have several lifetimes to contemplate all your regrets.

--------------------

Lan Zhan lay a comforting hand on Wei Wuxian’s shoulder, but the man was stood as still as a statue.

“That’s – that’s Jiang Cheng?” He whispered, still not wanting to believe his eyes.

Nobody answered him. Nobody needed to answer him.

He swallowed. His throat was dry. “I –“

Fuck, his voice was cracking. But that was normal, wasn’t it? And he didn’t have any water anyways.

“I – I know some people.” He began again. “They’ll be able to transport the – Jiang Cheng – and the cleanup guys can help with the apartment, but we’ll have to, uh, personal effects?”

Shit. He was rambling, trying to fall back on professional etiquette but it was different when talking to victims – it wasn’t your own family. Personal effects? Motherfucker, this was Jiang Cheng’s shit! The shit he’d never let anyone touch without good reason! How could he be impersonal about it? How could he have said that?

He closed his eyes, waiting for someone to scold him.

But the person who would usually scold him was dead.

Thankfully, A-Jie broke the silence. “I understand, A-Xian. But I don’t think – we’ll need to go through Jiang Cheng’s belongings, but not today. I think – I think – “

“We should probably clean up first.” Jin Zixuan intervened hastily, sensing his wife in trouble.

A silence fell over the four, no-one having anything to add, really.  

…

…

…

Wei Wuxian finally broke the silence with the one question that nobody had dared to ask.

“Do Uncle Jiang and Madame Yu know?”

Chapter Text

Come on, Jiang Cheng, you knew this was coming. It was going to happen sooner or later – what were they going to do? Just not tell the parents that their only son is dead?

Yeah, I know you would have preferred it that way, but it’s not like you left a will saying “DON’T CALL MOM AND DAD” or anything, given the extraordinary circumstances.

Actually, I do have a question. Have you ever written a suicide note?

Ow, shit! Damn, you’re becoming corporeal real fast for a ghost. Maybe you will be able to mind-blast your anxiety meds out the window at this point. But you haven’t answered my question, hm?

You burned it?

Oh, you mean if you ever wrote one you would have burned it anyways. Seems on brand for you.

Anyways, forget suicide notes for a minute.

What do you mean, I’m the one who brought it up? Just because I brought it up I can’t change the topic?

Jiang Cheng. Listen. We’re about to get some juicy conversation, and I don’t think we want to be in your apartment – it’s not your sibling’s reactions we want to see this time. It's time for another change of scenery!

It’s time to go home.

Jiang Mansion

How long has it been since you’ve been home anyways, Jiang Cheng? Half a year? Longer?

God, you were so stupidly proud of yourself when you moved out, even though your siblings left ages ago. Doesn’t look like anything’s changed at home, has it? Same old rich people paintings on the wall, same old wooden flooring that creaks when you step on certain seams, same old smell of stale cigarettes that Mom pretends she isn’t smoking on the balcony – wait, that’s not true.

Has she switched to a vape pen? It smells like artificial cotton candy in here. Again, not that you can tell, which is why I’m letting you know.

You think you can smell it? That’s… good! It’s good you can smell!

Speaking of your mom, there she is in her home office, scouring through sheafs of papers related to probably yet another career-making litigation.

…she probably has her cellphone off, then, and your family got rid of the home phone years ago. No one ever called the Jiang family home, after all, they were always looking for a specific Jiang, and usually for reasons that they wouldn’t want the other Jiang family members to know about.

Well, not you. No one called you. Or called about you, as the case may be.

Your siblings aren’t going to be able to reach Madame Yu, so let’s take a quick trip to the other parent.

So much for going home, right? Turned out to only be a detour.

Jiang Corporation Headquarters

Ah, good old dad. You can always count on him to be in his office, cellphone laid on the beautiful walnut table.

Just like you have a custom ringtone for your sister, Jiang Fengmian has a custom ringtone for each one of the family members! A soft piano tune for Jiang Yanli, a neat electronic flute riff for Wei Wuxian, a quick violin ditty for Madame Yu.

I don’t know what he’s got for you, Jiang Cheng. Do you know?

Well, it makes sense that you don’t know. You’d be calling and presumably nowhere in the vicinity of the phone.

Well, I’ll tell you what ringtone he’s got for you, Jiang Cheng.

Hm? Oh, I lied about not knowing. I know everything, up until the point I don’t know everything. But who cares about that?

The ringtone he’s got for you, Jiang Cheng, is… drumrolls, please…

No, it’s not silent. Why are you being so down on yourself? At the end of the day, you’re still the man’s son, and he has some degree of affection for you. He might not always pick up your calls, but I promise that’s because he’s ignoring you on purpose.

Wait, that’s probably even worse, isn’t it? Well, you can get over it, because you’re dead and he’ll probably delete your number anyways.

Stop looking like you can’t decide whether you’re about to kill yourself or have an aneurysm. You’re already dead, you can’t exactly double die. Besides, you always suspected, didn’t you? That’s why you never call him. Even if it were truly urgent, you’d deal with it. Mom’s always busy, Dad doesn’t pick up, brother has no sense of urgency, and you don’t want to bother your beloved sister.

No wonder you’re so self sufficient.

Anyways, keep guessing! What ringtone do you think your dad’s got for you?

No, it’s not the default ringtone either, although that would be pretty funny.

Nope, not a police siren. Why would you even think that? Oh, as a warning. Haha, I guess.

Not ambient wind or wave sounds either.

Out of guesses already? Boo, how boring.

Your ringtone, Jiang Cheng, is –

Remember when you were really really small and Madame Yu sent you and Yanli to singing lessons? Pre-Wei Wuxian, pre-everything. It was probably the first and last time your parents attended an event with you as a performer.

It’s you and your sister and the rest of the class singing Mo Li Hua. You were singing the loudest, it was honestly pretty cute.

How do you feel about that? Something for you to ruminate on as we wait for the call.

Hm? How come there’s been no call despite our messing around? I told you, didn’t I – time passes differently when you’re not bound to carbon. If you stay here for long enough, you’ll figure that out too.

Plenty of time for rumination, even if you don’t want to.

--------------------

Nobody answered Wei Wuxian’s question.

Nobody wanted to break the news to Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian.

Nobody knew how to break the news to Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian.

Neither sibling wanted to talk to their (adoptive) parents on a good day, and this was far from a good day. Neither significant other wanted to subject their loved one to talking to the (adoptive) parents at any time, good day or not.

But at the end of the day, it’s always Jiang Yanli who steps up to do what needs to be done. She knows better than to let Wei Wuxian call Mother, especially about the death of Jiang Cheng.

And for some strange reason, none of them really considered calling Jiang Fengmian first.

So just as Wei Wuxian opened his mouth in valiant self-sacrifice, Jiang Yanli pulled the phone out of her bag and dialed.

Ring. Ring.

----------------------

Oh, shit. I was wrong. Quick, Jiang Cheng. We’re heading back to your mom’s office.

----------------------

Jiang Mansion – Madame Yu’s Office

It turns out, Jiang Cheng, that your mom leaves her phone on do not disturb. And apparently, your mom allows calls from Jiang Yanli to go through despite the do not disturb.

Wonder if it’s because of the baby. Mother does love Jin Ling, after all. Wouldn’t want to miss a call about her precious grandson.

The phone's about to ring now, any second –

---------------------

Ring. Ring.

Annoyed, Yu Ziyuan looked down at her phone. What was with her children and calling at the most inopportune times? They never called when she was free, no, it was always when she was in a meeting or prepping a case. At least they knew better than to call her in court.

But it was Yanli, and Yanli never called unless it was something important.

With an exasperated sigh, she took off her reading glasses and picked up her phone.

“What is it, Yanli?” she snapped. “I’m busy, so make it quick.”

“Jiang Cheng’s dead.”

What?

“That’s not funny,” she replied automatically, but –

Yanli didn’t play pranks. If it were the little brat Wei Wuxian calling her, well –

No matter what she thought of him, he wouldn’t play a joke like that either. He was more likely to fake his own death than that of Jiang Cheng’s.

“Jiang Cheng’s dead. We’re at his apartment right now, he never showed up for brunch, so we went and checked in on him, we thought he might have been sick, but he’s – he’s – “

Yanli fought hard to keep her voice steady, but how could her mother not hear the trembling, the pain behind every word?

Still, how could she believe it? A-Cheng – her baby boy –

Dead?

He was only 26. He was just a child. He still didn’t know better, he didn’t know anything, she knew she never should have let him move out but they had insisted and he had wanted to leave and she had told him to get out but he wasn’t ready and now her daughter was telling her

He was dead?

You’re lying.

That’s not true.

Tell me it’s a lie, that Wei Wuxian is just trying to get me worked up.

Tell me this isn’t happening.

How could he be so unfilial as to die before his mother?

No, he wouldn’t do that. He’s a good child, if a little misguided. It’s – it’s a mistake. Yanli’s made a mistake.

No. No. No.

“Jiang Cheng’s dead?” she heard herself whisper into the phone.

No. This isn’t real. That’s not me, that’s not Yanli.

“He’s dead, mom. He’s dead.”

It’s a bad dream. You’ve fallen asleep at your desk, and you just miss your children. Yanli never calls me mom. Yanli always calls me mother.

That same disembodied voice was still speaking. “Does your father know?” It asked, cold and unfeeling.

“No… no, I haven’t called father yet.”

“I’ll call him. I – “

I don’t know where A-Cheng lives. He never told me. I never asked. Jesus, God – I’m going to lose it.

“I’ve sent you the address. We’re all here. See you soon, mom.”

Then nothing.

Madame Yu slumped down in her chair.

She didn’t want to put her daughter in the position of needing to contact another person about her brother’s death, but what was she going to say to Fengmian?

How was Fengmian going to react?

Why the fuck was A-Cheng dead?

How could she have let A-Cheng die?

What kind of mother was she?

How could she have been one of the last to know?

Her throat was tight. She didn’t think she could speak anymore. She could feel her stomach churning and her head spinning, her hands were starting to turn numb, she couldn’t feel her feet anymore. She couldn’t breathe – she gasped for air, but every breath was shallow, more being spit out than inhaled, heart fluttering uselessly. The world was turning blurry. She sat straight, tried to curl in on herself to control her breathing. She could feel hot tears running down her cheeks, but –

Everything was cold. It was so cold.

-------------------

Hey, looks like we’ve figured out where you got your penchant for panic attacks! You were always more like your mom than your dad, in more ways than just appearance. Wei Wuxian always teased you for being so much like your mom, hm? But little did he know…

Jiang Cheng. Get away from her. You’re a ghost. You’re not helping by trying to hug her. In fact, you’re doing the opposite of helping. Haven’t you ever watched any movies? You’re only making her colder than she needs to be…

Don’t yell at me for speaking the truth! Shooting the messenger is unbecoming. You’re dead. There’s nothing you can do for your mother now. Screaming at me isn’t going to change that. There’s no way for the dead to comfort the living.

Hey, on the bright side, you’ve learned something new about your mother! None of this would’ve ever come to light if you were still alive.

It’s so easy to hide things from the people you love, isn’t it? Neither of you would ever admit to having issues with panic attacks or generalized anxiety. Instead, you just pretend that you like things in order, that you’re just being the quirky controlling type, when it’s actually the lack of control and order that keeps you awake at night. That you just like being alone, when you’re actually too afraid of rejection to reach out to people.

Would it have been that bad to show a little vulnerability? You know your brother and sister would never begrudge you for that.

Easier said than done, that’s true. Everything’s easier said than done.

Watching your mother – your steadfast, headstrong, capable, stubborn, arrogant, confident mother – do you begrudge her for her weakness?

Or do you wish that you knew about this when you were still alive?

---------------------

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

In.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Out.

Yu Ziyuan knew how to deal with anxiety. She knew how to deal with these little episodes.

She thought that she had all but erased it, her little hysterias. But you have to cut her some slack – who wouldn’t get a little hysterical hearing that their son had died?

But given a mere 10 minutes – like mother, like daughter, right? A mere 10 minutes, and she was as composed as could be. She could speak. She could breathe.

She could call Jiang Fengmian and ask him to meet the family at the apartment building.

But she wouldn’t be able to hold it together to tell him about A-Cheng.

She let out a deep breathe. She needed a cigarette. A proper cigarette.

She had switched to vaping, sure, health reasons and the fact that Yanli wouldn’t let her around Jin Ling if she smoked, but there was nothing like a real cigarette. She opened up a drawer and reached into the very back – a pack of cigarettes and a lighter she kept around for rainy days.

She tapped a cigarette out of the carton and placed it between her lips, hands trembling as struggled to light it.

But her fingers just didn’t seem to be able to obey her commands.

“Fuck. FUCK!” She slammed the lighter onto the table, crumpling the unlit cigarette in her hands.

Swearing was beneath her. She never swore. But sometimes, the occasion called for a little uncouth language.

She could call Jiang Fengmian on the road. She was getting the hell out of this house.

-----------------------

Jiang Fengmian never ignored a call from his wife for two reasons.

1. She never called over frivolities.
2. He didn’t need the inevitable fight that came whenever he didn’t answer her call.

So when he heard the frantic violin, he picked up immediately.

“Hello, my love,” He began. “Is there –“

“I’ve sent you a location.” His wife’s sharp voice interrupted. He could hear the low thrum of a car engine in the background. Was she driving? “Be there immediately. The whole family’s waiting.”

“Is there –“

“NOW!” She screeched, before hanging up.

Ding!

A little pop-up map showed up on his phone, pinpointing a building just outside downtown, but not far enough out to be considered suburban.

What is going on? He wondered.

But if his wife was going to sound like that – and she had said the whole family was waiting, was there something wrong? Oh no, was Jin Ling ok? Or had Wei Wuxian done something crazy again?

He shook his head. He’d find out once he got there.

He grabbed his coat and phone. “Xiao Li,” he called out to his secretary, “I’m leaving a bit early today. Cancel the appointments that aren’t important, and reschedule anything that needs to be rescheduled. Tell them there’s a family emergency.”

“Sounds good, Jiang-zong!” Xiao Li replied. “Hope everything’s alright at home!”

“Not with the way my wife sounded,” he muttered under his breath, before saying more audibly “I’ll see you tomorrow, Xiao Li!”

“Bye!”

--------------------

And now begins the family reunion, as the two supercars converge upon your shitty apartment complex. Not to belittle the status of your neighbourhood, of course! Your neighbours are BMW and Mercedes rich.

Your parents are Bentley and Aston Martin rich.

As you might be able to tell, I’m not that into cars. If they drive, it’s fine, right? You’re still rocking that old Prius?

Oops, sorry. You’re not still rocking it. It’ll probably be sold – Jiang Yanli would probably take it, but Jin Zixuan wouldn’t let her into a car older than three years. Safety, he says. He doesn’t get it. The old cars were built much sturdier than the new ones.

Anyways.

You seem pretty zoned out, Jiang Cheng. I’m here babbling about cars and you’re not even stopping me. Are you ok?

Hey, seriously. Are you ok?

Ah, are you trying to adopt ye old ‘zoning out at family dinners and pretending I’m not here’ tactic? It’s always avoidance with you, isn’t it.

You know how this conversation is going to play out, so there's no point in listening? Well, enlighten me with your speculation, then.

Mom freaks the fuck out, Dad looks sad but is secretly relieved that it’s only the death of his least favourite child, Mom loses her shit at Dad and Wei Wuxian for being Dad’s favourite, the significant others look awkward, Yanli tries to intervene but gets overruled by Mom, everything’s a mess and everyone’s miserable.

I didn’t ask for you to describe your family dinners. Jiang Cheng, you think your death is going to go over like a family dinner?

That’s a rather pessimistic take on things, isn’t it?

I might’ve said that you’re good at predicting the outcomes of your own actions, but man, Jiang Cheng, your predictions for your family members are…

Bleak. Can’t say whether you’re right or wrong, though. The conversation hasn’t happened yet.

So let’s get back to the apartment parking lot, hm?

How long has it been since that last full family reunion?

Never would have thought that that would be the last time your parents saw you alive.

Chapter Text

As Jiang Fengmian pulled up towards the dinky little apartment building the map pin seemed to indicate as his final destination, his confusion only grew.

Where the heck was this? Was this Wei Wuxian’s new place? He had mentioned he was going to move in with his boyfriend, but he had thought that Lan Wangji would be able to afford something better than this. He could at least afford something downtown!

And was that his lady wife in the parking lot – sitting on the curb? With her head in her hands? Was that Wei Wuxian nervously hovering over her? What a… confusing sight to behold.

Ding!

You have reached your destination. Your destination is on the right.

He turned into parking space next to his wife’s Maserati, standing out like a sore thumb among the other junkers in the lot. Wei Wuxian’s Camaro wasn’t parked in the residents parking, he noticed. So this wasn’t his apartment?

What the heck was going on?

He slid out of his car, speedwalking towards the family gathering in the parking lot. Yanli was sat hunched over next to her mom, Wei Wuxian pacing around them in circles.

“Hello everyone,” he called out. “What are we doing here?”

Madame Yu’s head snapped up at the sound of his voice. A familiar sneer spread across her face – but were her eyes red?

“How kind of you to finally join us, Jiang Fengmian.” She spat out. “Take a look for yourself, hm? Can you even figure out what’s wrong with this picture?”

???

Well, for one, it looked like there had been crying. Yanli’s eyes were red too, and Jin Zixuan’s hand was rubbing steady circles on Yanli’s back.

It probably wasn’t Jin Ling – this wasn’t his daycare, they weren’t at a hospital. If anything had happened to Jin Ling, it would have to be one of those two locations.

A-Xian looked awkward, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other, eyes darting around, never settling on anything for more than a moment, but constantly going back to Madame Yu. What had A-Xian done wrong this time, for him to be so wary of his stepmother?

Lan Wangji – well, what could you say about him? He looked as impassive as ever.

…Oh, right. Where was A-Cheng?

“Where’s A-Cheng?”

But as soon as he asked the question, some unconscious piece of his brain had begun to put things together.

The crying.

His wife’s sudden call.

The unsettled atmosphere.

An apartment complex he knew nothing about.

Oh dear. A-Cheng hadn’t hurt himself, had he?

“Figured it out quickly, didn’t you, Jiang Fengmian,” his wife said bitterly. “What was that? Twenty seconds? We should all be so honoured that you deign to remember the existence of your own son.”

“My lady, that’s not –“

“Not what, Jiang Fengmian? You didn’t even know your son was living here, did you?” His wife hissed. “Did you even know when he didn’t show up to work?”

Jiang Cheng hadn’t been showing up to work? His men hadn’t told him about that –

“My lady – “

“Forget about it, Fengmian.” Ziyuan interrupted him sharply, before giving a dry laugh. “Jiang Cheng’s dead. He’s been dead for at least a week. Now you know.”

--------------------

Your father, Jiang Cheng, is in shock. He is currently unable to process the information that your mother so carelessly threw his way.

You, too, are in shock it seems. Was the 20 seconds long or short? Which part of it was shocking?

…How depressing. Did you really believe that your father wouldn’t have noticed you were missing at all? What a low estimation you have of the man, but I suppose he’s never done anything to indicate you should think otherwise.

The last performance of yours he attended was way back during Mo Li Hua.

The last performance of Wei Wuxian’s he attended wasn’t even Wei Wuxian’s performance, was it. If I recall correctly, wasn’t it Lan Wangji’s concert? You were invited too, weren’t you, and your mother as well?

You didn’t know your father was going to show up. Had you known, would you still have gone?

Your mother, of course, didn’t bother. She knows better than to show up where she’s not really wanted.  

Hey – do you want me to tell you what your father was thinking before your mother interrupted him with the news?

Oh, I didn’t tell you, did I. If you stick around for long enough, you’ll get some pretty basic mind reading powers, if you’re into that. Tiring as hell to pull off, though, so you’re welcome.

See, the thing is, your father knows your brother is a troublemaker. He knows that Wei Wuxian is liable to get himself into some sort of a jam. He loves your brother – you and I both know that’s true – but his attention always turns to Wei Wuxian first because – be honest, now – when have you done anything to warrant the man’s interest?

Ok, that was worded poorly. I didn’t mean it that way, stop scowling.

I meant – you always do good. You’re never number one – that’s Wei Wuxian. You’re never dead last – that’s Wei Wuxian too, on the subjects he doesn’t care for.

You don’t cause trouble. You don’t stand out. You don’t command attention like Wei Wuxian does.

You’re just, well, fine. Normal. Average. Hardworking, sure, but –

Ordinary.

Ordinary, and maybe a little too ornery for your father’s tastes. Too much like your mother, and we both know how much he disdains her.

He’d never expect you to be in the centre of attention.

It’s up to you to decide whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing, though. All I can tell you is the truth.  

He never expected that you would die before Wei Wuxian. Or before himself, for that matter.

He thought you would live a long, fulfilling, boring life.

Hm? None of that answers how he feels about you dying?

Patience, Jiang Cheng, patience. Let’s keep watching.

--------------------

Jiang Fengmian chuckled awkwardly. “My lady, that’s not a very funny joke – “

“It’s not a joke, father.” Yanli interrupted wearily, cutting off whatever harsh words her mother had in store. “We all saw his body.”

(Somewhere in Jin Zixuan’s traitorous mind, the urge to cut in with an “it stinks” was suppressed.)

 “Oh.”

How else could he respond? Wasn’t this a little too sudden?

…

…

…

“You can stay down here if you don’t want to see the body,” Wei Wuxian offered nervously, casting surreptitious glances at his stepmother to gauge her reaction to his offer.

His wife didn’t respond, merely twisting her face into a grimace.

But he couldn’t just stay down here, could he? It was his son – he had to, right?

“No, no. Of course I’ll go up. Please, lead the way.”

Was that the right thing to say in this situation? Nothing could have ever prepared him for this, this was truly unexpected...

Painfully aware of his wife’s glare, he extended a hand to help her up from the curb. Certainly that couldn’t be a bad move.

She didn’t take it.

---------------------

It’s a replay, but now two additional members have been added to the miserable family heading towards your apartment, Yanli still leading the way.

Your mom’s heels echo menacingly as she strides across the apartment lobby into the elevator.

Your dad hangs back behind her, almost in lockstep with Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian looks like he really, really doesn’t want to be here.

---------------------

Yu Ziyuan could feel the rage threatening to boil over as she heard her husband make a small noise of disgust at the horrid stench that permeated the hallway.

How could he? How could he be so nonchalant knowing that this was the smell of his own flesh and blood rotting?

Yanli finally came to a stop in front of an apartment – 404.

Her stupid child. Her stupid, stupid child. 404? Any other apartment number would have been better. But the boy had never believed in superstition, had he? And she hadn’t either. Misfortune was brought unto oneself through poor planning and decision-making. There was nothing real about superstition or the spiritual or curses or the afterlife.

But now she found herself wishing that her son could find at least a measure of peace in the next world.

Fumbling with the keys, Yanli unlocked the door with a soft click.

The moment the door cracked open, the stench became overwhelming. She looked back at her husband – would he be able to stomach the smell? If he couldn’t…

She didn’t know what she would do to him.

Thankfully, Jiang Fengmian seemed to at least have the balls to follow her into the apartment.

They didn’t have to go very far to find Jiang Cheng’s rotting body on the floor. Lying next to him was a mess of broken dishes and wooden shards of cabinet, and a pot with what seemed to be the remnants of spilled soup.

She closed her eyes, suddenly feeling all of the blood rushing out of her head. She felt herself starting to sway – Wei Wuxian, of all people, steadied her as she slumped backwards. She couldn’t even find it in herself to slap his hands away, letting Wei Wuxian keep her balanced as she found the strength to stand firm again.  

“Oh.” She heard Jiang Fengmian breathe out.

That was all her husband had to say at the sight of his son’s dead body?

That was it?

Oh?

“A-Xian, have you contacted… you know… for the body…”

???

At least Wei Wuxian had the heart in him to be shocked, eyes growing wide at his uncle’s question.

“Hm? Ah, yeah, Uncle Jiang, I’ve got that sorted… yeah…” Wei Wuxian trailed off, uncertain, eyes flickering over to her again.

What the hell is wrong with you, Jiang Fengmian?

She turned around and looked Jiang Fengmian straight in his blank eyes. He blinked. She stared. He blinked again, owlishly, foolishly, idiotically.

Yu Ziyuan could feel a deep resentment burning in her heart, one that she had always kept hidden, quite honestly. She heard what people said – cold and unloving, without an ounce of care for her family, least of all for her husband. She knew that her husband didn’t love her for all of those reasons – quick to anger, quick to blame, unable to show the same warm and bubbly love that came so easily to Cangse Sanren and her spawn. But that wasn’t resentment. No, that was nothing close to the resentment she was hiding away.

Jiang Fengmian thought that she resented him, that she was bitter with dissatisfaction? He didn’t know the half of it. Oh, he didn’t know the half of it.

If she truly, truly, resented him, she would have left long ago. She was the third daughter of the Yu’s, for Christ’s sake. If it came to a divorce, who would dare to speak ill of Yu Ziyuan? She had money. She had connections. What of Jiang Fengmian’s did she really need? At some point, she had wanted his love, but look at how that ended up. Look at where that landed her and her children.

She should have left long ago. Maybe then, her son wouldn’t be here, because –

“You’re glad, aren’t you, Jiang Fengmian.” She snarled, seething with rage. “You won’t say it out loud, but you’re glad it was Jiang Cheng, and not your precious A-Xian. Your son is dead in front of you, and still, all you can think about is A-Xian this, A-Xian that! Does Jiang Cheng’s death mean so little to you? Does Wei Wuxian mean that much more than my A-Cheng ever did?”

Oh, good. Her husband looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“My lady, you misunderstand,” he protested. “I just thought that –“

She barked out a laugh. “Oh, you just thought, did you. First thing that runs through your mind when you see your dead son’s body is ‘I’d better get this cleaned up’, hm? Am I asking too much when I ask for you to mourn our son? Or is there just nothing to mourn because you never considered him your son?”

Brows furrowed, Jiang Fengmian responded softly. “My lady, no need for the sarcasm. Of course Jiang Cheng is my son. Of course I’m mourning! Of course-“

 “Sarcasm?” She interrupted, face twisted in contempt. “How dare you, Jiang Fengmian? I’m asking you an honest question, and you accuse me of sarcasm?”

She could hear her voice beginning to get louder, now, familiar thoughts tumbling out from her mouth. “What about you, Jiang Fengmian? You say Jiang Cheng is your son, but when have you ever treated him as an equal to Wei Wuxian? Because from where I stand, Jiang Fengmian, you’re a goddamn fucking liar – would you still be standing here this emotionless if it were Wei Wuxian on the ground? Tell me, Jiang Fengmian. Is it because Jiang Cheng is my son that you refuse to care for him? Does it bring you some sort of twisted pleasure to see my son suffer, to see me suffer, to never acknowledge everything he’s done for this family, for you?”

“My lady, please calm –“

“Don’t you DARE tell me to calm down, Jiang Fengmian!” She screamed, words tearing themselves out of her throat. “Answer the FUCKING question! Did you really love A-Cheng the same way you love Wei Wuxian? Is it not a relief to see my son, MY SON, dead, and your Wei Wuxian living fine and well? Would you, even for a second, consider trading Wei Wuxian’s life for the life of your own son, or is it easier for you to imagine Jiang Cheng sacrificing his life for Wei Wuxian? What do you have to say, Jiang Fengmian?!? ANSWER ME!”

“Yu Ziyuan! You can’t force me to choose between my sons like that!” Jiang Fengmian roared, finally losing his temper.

Shock flitted through his wife’s eyes, before her mouth set in a smile of grim satisfaction.

“Finally.” She whispered, hoarse. “Jiang Fengmian, you’re finally admitting it, and this is what it took. My sons, huh. My sons. What am I supposed to say to that? You still have a son left. Me? I don’t have any sons left, Fengmian. I only had one son – and he’s dead.”

Bitter smile still set on her face, she turned and fled into the nearest room before anyone could see her tears, slamming the door behind her.

---------------------

Of all the rooms, huh, Jiang Cheng. Of all the rooms.

Well, to be fair, there were only two rooms – the washroom and your bedroom. Your mom wasn’t about to go and lock herself in the bathroom like some sort of a loser.

You’re telling me to shush?! The audacity!

Anyways, look at your siblings. Thank god they have significant others to shield them from some of the psychic damage the parental gatherings always seem to cause. Their presence is a comfort in tough times, both at the dinner table and now.

You said this would go over like a family dinner, didn’t you? I think it went over significantly worse, but that’s just my opinion.

Hm? You think it’s better than a family dinner? Ah, at least you don’t have to be there in the hot seat – it’s different watching it all fold out from above, huh?

Look at you now. Finally, you have an objective view on the nightmare you’ve been living through.

-----------------------

Yu Ziyuan sat stiffly on the bed, holding back her tears.

That was just fucking it, wasn’t it? Any time Jiang Fengmian lost his temper, it was always for that goddamn Wei Wuxian.

Why couldn’t he just love his own son like that?

She had changed Jiang Fengmian’s custom ringtone for her son, one time, just to see if he ever noticed, if the song would bring back any sort of fond memory. A drum solo didn’t suit her son anyways. He could have chosen something better.

Had Fengmian ever even realized?

-------------------

…Jiang Cheng. I need to admit something to you.

Remember when I told you that your custom ringtone on your dad’s phone was you singing Mo Li Hua, and I told you to ruminate on that?

Well, I failed to mention that it was your mom who changed replaced the original drum solo into that song.

Hey – but he did hear it that one time you dialed his number by accident, so he made a conscious decision not to change it back.

…Is it really that funny, Jiang Cheng, that you’re laughing so hard? In fact, when was the last time you even laughed like this?

He just didn’t care enough to change it? You knew it all along, that your father would never do something like that?

And you’re happy? You’re happy.

Because all the time you were trying to be something more for your father, the path that you gave up on years ago –

You were right all along.

…

…

Anyways, stop laughing. The time for joy is over. Now that I’ve provided you that moment of clarity, let’s get back to observing your bedroom.

For some reason, you’re surprisingly nonchalant about this development, given that you had a literal panic attack over the medication in your bedroom.

Ha! That’s right, you are dead. You’re starting to get it now, aren’t you?

Nothing like a good old family feud to make someone glad that they’re no longer one of the living.

-------------------

Jiang Cheng’s room. When was the last time she had seen Jiang Cheng’s room?

Quite recently, actually, if you were counting the room in Jiang Mansion. She cleaned up in there, dusted things off quite frequently on the off-chance that Jiang Cheng would come back and stay the night.

It was silly of her to expect anything, but she was a mother.

This room?

A million things she could have nagged her son about, the jacket hanging off the back of the chair on the hanger, Jiang Cheng, you’ll ruin it with wrinkles, the wallet left openly on the table you have drawers for a reason, and that wallet? the bottle of pills –

The bottle of pills? Her other children obviously hadn’t checked the room – they wouldn’t leave anything as incriminating as that brazenly out in the open.

She reached out towards the orange bottle, turning it around so she could read the label, blinking away the tears blurring her vision.

Paroxetine.

She pulled out the phone, hesitating for a half second did she really want to know before typing it into the search bar.

Major depressive disorder, obsessive-compulsive disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, social anxiety disorder, panic disorder, generalized anxiety disorder.

Shit. She really knew nothing about her son, did she? And oh, how similar the two of them were. Back when Prozac was popular, hadn’t her own physicians recommended it to her? She had brushed them off, of course – it was all in her head. She could control her own thoughts.

Her A-Cheng, taking medication – for either depression or anxiety – what would she have said to him if he were alive?

Weak. Depending on medication to keep your brain working. Worthless.

She wouldn’t have meant a single word, not really. But she would have said it.

How can you expect to outcompete anyone if you don’t even have control over your own mind?

That she would have meant.

Get a hold of yourself, Jiang Cheng.

She would have been worried to death. But she didn’t know how – she didn’t know how –

All she wanted was for her son to be strong. Safe. Untouchable.

It was the only way she knew how to do it. How wrong it was, how right it was, none of that had ever crossed her mind, she had never thought to wonder. It was the way her mother taught her, how her grandmother taught her mother. It was just the way things went.

To be strong means that you never need to depend on anyone. On anything.

She tucked the little bottle into her purse, careful to quiet any rattling. A-Cheng wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know, least of all her.

Her son was dead, but she could do at least that much. She could do one last thing for him, one thing that would have never crossed her mind were her son still alive.

She would keep this secret for him.

-------------------

Well, that’s that for the medication, I suppose. The freshly dead you wouldn’t have been able to believe it – your mom finding the medication was probably the best outcome there was! And she didn’t even throw a fit about it!

You’re right – it does make sense considering her medical history.

Aw, look at your soft smile. That’s the one you usually reserve for your sister, isn’t it? But you’re learning more than you’ve ever known before about your mother.

She loves you, Jiang Cheng, more than anything – except maybe Yanli. She just never knew quite how to express love and caring in a healthy manner. Like mother, like son, I suppose. Had you two been more open about your anxieties…  

…

What did I say? You’ll have plenty of time for regret.

But let’s play it back one more time, Jiang Cheng. You wanted to know how your father felt about your death.

Let me teach you something.

Look at him. Focus on him, on him as a human, on him as a human standing with your siblings, as an entity that is part of a whole.

Your father is standing there, unmoving. Wei Wuxian is not reaching out to him, leaning into Lan Wangji’s embrace instead. Jin Zixuan is still supporting your sister, who seems to be disassociating, staring blankly into space.

Your father is standing there, unmoving. What is he thinking?

He’s looking at your body, eyes carefully scanning every part of your rotting corpse. He’s staring at the plate shard covered in dried blood. He’s putting it together, isn’t he, that this was probably one big accident?

He’s closing his eyes. He opens his mouth, and closes it again. He doesn’t know what to say. None of your siblings are stepping in to comfort him or tell him he wasn’t wrong. He has nowhere to run off to – his wife took the only room that wasn’t the washroom, and he’s too dignified to hole up in there.

Jiang Cheng, watch carefully. This man is your father. The one you sought approval from for so long. All you ever wanted to hear him say was ‘I’m proud of you’.

The man, so uncertain, so utterly alone even amongst his closest family –

Jiang Fengmian loved you, Jiang Cheng, that much is true. But he will never love you as much as he loves Wei Wuxian.

But more importantly, Jiang Cheng.

Why did you ever need his approval?

Listen, Jiang Cheng. You’ve been growing stronger. Focus hard, and listen.

Because there’s only one word echoing in that brain of his, and there’s one feeling that overwhelms him right now.

That’s right.

An immense confusion and the word –

Why?

Chapter Text

Tired, are you? That’s ok. Take a rest. I told you – it takes a toll.

Let me tell you a story instead.

Well, it’s not much of a story.

Let’s call it a refresher. A memory.

------------------

The children, your siblings, know better than to interrupt their mother when she goes on a tirade – it never ends well, not for the family dinner and especially not for them. You can only get torn apart so many times by Madame Yu before you begin to realize that you should just keep your mouth shut.

The significant others, too, had learned to tune it all out – or in the case of Lan Wangji, just fully prevent his love from attending family dinners at all.

Actually, the whole institution of family dinners fell apart rather quickly, didn’t it? What was once a Saturday Night Staple turned once every 2 weeks, turned once a month, then it was just the holidays.

Wei Wuxian had been the first to stop showing up, no?

Oh, how your mother raged – the ungrateful brat, she seethed, how dare he just not show up without any warning. You didn’t even know if she had really wanted him there anyway, given how much she seemed to hate Wei Wuxian, but she had been truly angered by his lack of presence.

Your father’s attempts to ease her fury only worsened her temper.

My lady, A-Xian has been quite busy, perhaps he needs the time to rest.

Jiang Fengmian. Why are you always defending that brat? What would it take for you to level even the slightest criticism towards him, hm?

The clang of chopsticks being slammed on top of a bowl as Yu Ziyuan reaches to take a deep drink out of her wineglass. A frosty silence. No-one dared to chew the food in their mouths for fear of making a sound. Jin Zixuan had been too scared to even blink.

Later, you learned it was Lan Wangji who convinced him to not attend.

You were jealous, in that moment. An overwhelming sort of nervous energy overtook you, your heart pumping faster and faster.

It came to you, quite suddenly, why your mother had been furious.

Because how dare he? How dare he intrude upon your family, take away everything you valued, and just leave because Lan Wangji, of all people, suggested it? Not show up for family dinner because of Lan Wangji?

You knew you weren’t being fair, but then again, nothing had really been fair since your father took your dogs away.

You knew better than to release all that resentment on your brother, though – you knew none of it was really his fault. He didn’t ask to be dropped into a family that wasn’t his own. He didn’t ask for his real parents to die. He didn’t ask for Jiang Fengmian to smother him with affection.

He didn’t want to ruin your whole life, even if he did anyways.

But if Wei Wuxian could find it in himself to leave you behind and find a better life for himself – good for him, right? There was no place for your inferiority complex there. Let him go. Greener pastures, brighter futures and all that.

Wei Wuxian was the first to leave. Your sister was the second.

She was pregnant with Jin Ling, and her constitution had always been weak. Jin Zixuan, in a stroke of genius, called his mother-in-law with a plea to excuse his wife from the family dinners – he didn’t want to subject his wife to the drive, what if something went wrong? Just let her rest at home, and you can come visit Yanli instead, and at any time too.

It’s not as if your mother was ignorant to the stress of participating in family dinners; Yu Ziyuan wanted her grandchild to be born happy and healthy.

Let Yanli rest on the weekends. I’ll take care of her.

So you were left behind to sit at the table, alone. All by yourself in a mansion full of empty misery.

You couldn’t stand it.

You hated it so much that for once in your life you were able to muster up some sort of bravery – and you moved out.

With that came the unceremonious end to the family dinners.

…

Well, I call it some sort of bravery, but you were just running away, weren’t you? Not that there’s anything wrong with that – wasn’t Wei Wuxian the first to leap into Lan Wangji’s strong, muscular arms?

But Wei Wuxian, he ran successfully. He doesn’t depend on a job from Jiang Corp. He’s found his own space, his own happiness. He ran, and he escaped.

What about you?

You ran from one cage to another, never really carving out a space for yourself. Somewhere in the back of your mind, the spectre of being the Jiang heir clouds all your decisions. Everything you’ve done, those two words weigh heavy on the scales of judgement – Jiang Heir.

Isn’t this whole debacle just proof of that?

Even when you’re dead, this misery is all that follows you.

Wei Wuxian has his friends. You have your dysfunctional family.

You can’t escape.

…

But what’s important right now is the fact that nobody speaks against Madame Yu. Not Jiang Fengmian, not Jiang Yanli, certainly not Wei Wuxian.

That doesn’t mean they don’t have their own thoughts on the matter.

As your father stands dumb and mute, your siblings make a conscious decision to stay silent.

Madame Yu talks a lot of shit. Her words are more often ugly than kind, they all know. But this time, even they can sense that something was different about the way she said it.

It wasn’t rage, it wasn’t sarcasm, as Jiang Fengmian had identified it as.

It was an abject despair.

It was a despair that triggered a thought in Jiang Yanli, in Wei Wuxian, in Jin Zixuan, and even Lan Wangji.

It was a thought they identified as new, but had been unconsciously taking shape over the last so many years, ever since you moved out.

It was a thought that really should have surfaced much earlier, to be honest, but without this final push, I can guarantee that it would have always stayed below the threshold of consciousness.

It was the thought

That perhaps

Jiang Fengmian never truly loved Jiang Cheng the same way he loved Wei Wuxian.

That perhaps Jiang Fengmian had only loved Jiang Cheng out of obligation.

----------------------

Jiang Fengmian was in a state of confusion. He couldn’t quite make sense of everything that had just happened.

What had he said that was so wrong?

…Upon further consideration, it was a little insensitive to bring up the body so quickly, but he was sure his son didn’t want to be lying there in a state of half-rot either. The quicker the body was dealt with, the quicker…

This would be all over? Yeah, he would like that.

He’d like for this to all be over.

It was kind of like a bad nightmare. A-Cheng, dead? How could he believe it? A-Cheng wasn’t the type to die so young. He was like his mother – resilient to a fault.

But the body in front of him said otherwise. And it seemed that A-Cheng may have died in an accident when the cabinets collapsed and caused a mess.

Strange situation. That was something he couldn’t even fathom, A-Cheng in an accident. Like his mother, he was always so meticulous in his actions, quick to find fault – he could see A-Xian getting into accidents, but not A-Cheng.

So yes, he was incredibly surprised by what he saw in front of him. And yes, maybe the shock had addled his brain.

But what his wife had said to him was a little uncalled for, wasn’t it? Why was she always bringing up A-Xian whenever she talked about A-Cheng? How could she accuse him of not caring about his own son? What was so wrong about him considering A-Cheng and A-Xian both to be his sons? They looked out for each other, the two of them. They were close.

He closed his eyes, reminiscing.

Even as children, even when A-Xian had first arrived in their home, it was A-Xian that had coaxed A-Cheng out of his shell, convinced him to play with the other boys. A-Cheng had been so isolated, back then.

A-Cheng had hung on to A-Xian ever since. So why even compare the two brothers?

Why even suggest that one should die in the place of the other?

…He could acknowledge that his wife was grieving over the loss of her son. But that didn’t give her the right to say something so… terrible. So irredeemably horrible. A-Xian was standing right there!

He opened his eyes and glanced at A-Xian, who was leaning in the arms of his boyfriend and receiving pats on the head, looking horribly shaken by what had just happened.

He opened his mouth, then closed it. What was he going to say?

Why was this happening? Why was nobody saying anything? Why was it so quiet?

…

Why did he feel like he did something wrong?

…

He opened his mouth again. This time, he spoke.

“A-Xian, don’t take your stepmothers words to heart. She’s grieving.” He said, hoping that Yu Ziyuan’s words hadn’t piled onto the guilt that A-Xian was sure to feel after being unable to prevent what had happened to A-Cheng.

A-Xian stared at him.

Why did it feel like he was being judged?

A few seconds lapsed before A-Xian let out a hollow laugh.

“Yeah, Jiang shu-shu, I’m fine. Jiang Cheng and I have heard it all before. I just never imagined – haha, fuck, Jiang Cheng always said, but I never – yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

Jiang Fengmian didn’t know how to respond. What was A-Xian talking about?

Why did it feel like he did something wrong?

What had he done wrong?

-----------------------

People think that its impossible for a parent to not love their own flesh-and-blood child. But its not always that simple, is it? You would know.

Love – so difficult to define, to pin down. What is it?

Wei Wuxian is in love. Jiang Yanli is in love.

But that’s romantic love.

What is the love a parent feels for their child?

Looking at your mother, something becomes clear – undying, unwavering, pure selfish love – a wish, a hope for your child to live a life better than the one you had.

Anything for your success and happiness.

That was how she loved you.

Was it right? Did she make you successful and happy?

No. No, she didn’t

You might’ve even hated her for it, and you would be right to. Nobody, not even a parent, has the right to take away the choice of their child, to constantly belittle them and make them feel small and insignificant.

But you knew she loved you.

It’s something we’ve all heard – the opposite of love is not hatred; it’s apathy, a lack of regard. Your mom regarded you very much. Your mom cared, in her own way, very much.

Your father never hated you. He just never really cared about you beyond his perceived obligation to loving you as a parent.

But he didn’t really understand what went into the concept of parental love, because he didn’t feel it, not really.

Does he want to see you lying there, dead?

No.

But neither would your co-workers.

…

Then why, you ask, did he never show up to your swim meets? That seems like a basic parental thing, right? Shouldn’t he have felt obligated?

Use your brain, Jiang Cheng. I said it already, way back when, didn’t I?

Need a hint? You’re Yu Ziyuan’s son, and he always makes sure you remember that.

You’re just like your mom.

That’s right. He didn’t think you’d care if he showed up. Yu Ziyuan certainly doesn’t care if Jiang Fengmian is present for her in-court victories. Her son, who is just like her, certainly wouldn’t care if his father showed up. The son is only inviting you out of politesse.

Funny thing is, the both of you would care very much if he showed up, and in a good way. He could never see that, though.

You asked him, once, didn’t you?

Why do you never say you’re proud of me?

He chuckled and answered “I am very proud of you, A-Cheng.”

But it didn’t feel real, and you never asked again.

In fact, every that’s good, well done – it was never said with the same enthusiasm it was said to Wei Wuxian. The difference in tone was one of ending a phrase in a period. Or in an exclamation mark!

When did he ever use an exclamation mark for you?

A-Cheng, you can’t say that to A-Xian! Apologize, now.

A-Cheng, be nicer to your siblings! If you keep acting like that, no one will want to play with you anymore.

A-Cheng, have a fun time with A-Xian!

Haha, isn’t that funny.

Favouritism between siblings is common. Sad, but common. Sometimes it’s the coddled first son, sometimes it’s the spoiled youngest princess.

But for some reason, it stings that much more when your dad loves the adopted kid more than you.

You can’t blame him, though. You’d love Wei Wuxian more than you too.

In some sense, you do love Wei Wuxian more than yourself. You’d drop everything to bail your brother out of trouble – to your own detriment if need be.

You’ve done it more than once.

In the dead of night – sneaking out of the house, grabbing the money you were saving up for no particular reason, just in case I find something I like, hailing a cab to the police station to bail your drunken, rebellious brother out. Dropping him off at Nie Huaisang’s place because there’s no way in hell you’re getting him back into the Jiang Mansion without alerting Mother.

Going back home and getting lectured by Mother for sneaking out.

What were you even doing sneaking out at three in the morning?!

Go easy on him, my lady. It’s late, we should get back to bed.

Jiang Fengmian, do you not care about your own son’s wellbeing? His education? How could you not even care? He’s your heir, for god’s sake. He has an image to maintain! Or what – do you intend to hand over the company to Wei Wuxian?

…

I wonder – how much of it has to do with the dogs you lost?

If you were going to lose the dogs you loved so much, then Wei Wuxian better be more important than them. Otherwise, why would they be gone?

…Finally got enough energy to protest, huh? Wei Wuxian’s better than dogs. How many times did you have to repeat it to yourself to convince yourself of that?

You never should have needed to convince yourself of that.

Ah, good question, Jiang Cheng. If your father could love Wei Wuxian so deeply, could feel parental love for him, couldn’t he have mimicked just a little bit for you?

But you’re forgetting, Jiang Cheng, that your father – the head of a major corporation – is a horrible liar.

God knows how lucky he is that none of the major competitors have made a move on him – and God knows. I’m not even God, and I know.

Meishan Yu Professional Services is not to be made an enemy of. Lawyers, auditors, accountants, consultants – where would the business be without them?

How much information do they hold in their hands? Powerful bunch.

Anyways, Jiang Cheng. That’s it for my little story.

So, what do you think? Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe he did he love you.

Or maybe this is the moment where he realizes that he’s put you through a hell known as child neglect and a regret settles in for everything he’s done to you.

Or maybe you’ve always been right, and Jiang Fengmian just can’t comprehend that a member of the Yu bloodline is capable of having feelings.

Who knows. Maybe we’ll find out at the funeral.

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian was startled by the sudden slamming of a door – Madame Yu stormed out of Jiang Cheng’s room, looking like she had just endured some sort of inhuman torture. Her eyes were a swollen scarlet, tracks of tears clear on her cheeks, stained black by liner.

He had never seen Madame Yu look so messy. So… brittle.

But the way she carried herself was like a soldier returning from a victorious battle – battered, bruised, but spine straight and proud, sparing Uncle Jiang nary a glance as she strode towards Yanli-jie.

“Yanli,” she announced roughly. “I’m leaving. I’ll contact you and the Wei brat later with the details. We’ll need to –“  her voice trembled ever so slightly – you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t paying close attention – “settle affairs.”

Suddenly, Madame Yu turned to look at him. Her glare lacked the usual heat.

“And you, Wei Wuxian.” She said in monotone. “The death certificate. I understand you’ll know who to contact.”

“Yes, Madame Yu,” he whispered. “I’ll handle that.”

Madame Yu exhaled, face growing paler by the second. “Good,” she choked out. “Get that done.”

“Mom,” Yanli-jie interrupted, resting a steadying hand on her mother’s shoulder, face full of worry. “Come eat dinner with us tonight? Zixuan can drive us.”

Madame Yu shrugged her off. “I’ll be fine,” she replied, voice harsh. “Worry about yourselves instead. I’m leaving.”

“You don’t have the keys, mom, it’ll be better if you stay overnight with us so we can come back tomorrow morning together,” Yanli argued gently. “And Jin Ling will appreciate your company.”

“I grabbed Jiang Cheng’s keys.” Madame Yu said, before croaking out a painful laugh. “And I would be horrible company this evening. I’m leaving.”

And quite simply, she left. Uncle Jiang stared dumbfounded at her departing figure.

“Well,” Yanli-jie said softly. “The offer still stands if you or father wish to join us for dinner tonight.”

Uncle Jiang opened his mouth, but before Uncle Jiang could say anything, he spoke.

“Thanks, jie, but I’ll stay a little longer to get the death certificate sorted out. I have Lan Zhan with me, I’ll be fine, alright? You should go home and rest, don’t worry about us.” He gave Jin Zixuan a look. Jin Zixuan had the audacity to seem offended. “Jie, go home and take a hot bath. It’s been a long day.”

He hadn’t been sure what Jiang-shushu was going to say, but he couldn’t give Uncle Jiang the opportunity to accept Yanli-jie’s invitation. Jie needed rest, not more people to take care of after such a harrowing day. Thankfully, Uncle Jiang seemed to understand.

“Yes,” Jiang-shushu echoed. “Go home and take a hot bath. Get some rest.”

“If you’re sure,” Yanli-jie said. “Then Zixuan and I will head home. The babysitter.”

He glanced at his watch. They were meeting for brunch at 11 – it was almost 2 pm now.

Just about time for the Saturday Bruch crew to scatter…

 “I’ll take care of A-Li,” Jin Zixuan said faintly, wrapping an arm protectively around her shoulders, before adding, “You take care of yourselves as well.”

Fuck. Jiang Cheng really was dead, wasn’t he?

----------------------

Jiang Fengmian still didn’t know what was happening.

His wife had just stormed out, A-Li had left with Zixuan, and he felt very much dismissed by A-Xian, who was now leaning against his boyfriend and texting furiously. He had asked A-Xian if there was anything he could do to help, but A-Xian had responded, looking quite surprised, with a no.

Nobody seemed to expect that he might want to take a part in handling the aftermath of A-Cheng’s death.

His wife – was upset. Of course she was. She was rarely satisfied with anything he did, and his reactions had obviously not lived up to his wife’s expectations.

But A-Cheng was his son. His son was dead. He’d never lost a child before, and he really didn’t know how to react.

People died. He knew that. People close to him had died. His best friend and his wife, his own parents. They had died.

There had been no formal funeral for Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren. He had been too busy searching for their son to mourn.

Arranging the funeral for his own parents had been hard, of course, but at the same time it had been easy. After a certain age, people tended to have a plan for death – especially in families like his – wills prepared, lawyers ready, estates written up, succession plans disseminated to the board. It was sad, yes, but it was his parents’ time. Everything had been prepared.

A-Cheng was still too young for any of that. Much too young.

Oh dear. He wasn’t feeling quite so well – his stomach was doing flips. The smell, perhaps, was starting to get to him.

Might as well head home, then. A-Cheng might not have a will, or succession plans, but –

He had some calls to make.

----------------------

This bit is the boring bit – there’s always so much paperwork after someone dies. So much to plan for, so much to do.

The first item on the list of things to do is…

The legal pronouncement of death.  

That’s what Wei Wuxian’s doing right now, texting his friends in the industry to figure out what he’s supposed to do in the event a loved one died unexpectedly in their home.

The answer is to call 911, and probably the family doctor as well, as one of Wei Wuxian’s friends advises.

Yeah, you’re right. It seems a bit excessive to call 911 since you aren’t exactly in an emergency state anymore, but the law is the law. It was an unexpected death, so the police and coroners will want to make sure the death wasn’t suspicious.

Once medical professionals arrive, they’ll declare you legally dead. Then Wei Wuxian’s buddies can cart you out into a funeral home or to the coroner's, after getting permission from your parents – probably your mom, since your dad left just in time to not be part of this process.

See, as a legal adult, there’s a list of people – by priority – who are allowed to authorize the removal of a body, starting with spouse, then adult child, then adult grandchild, then parent – or something like that, it differs jurisdiction to jurisdiction.   

Why am I telling you the law on this? I thought you might be interested, that’s all! You are interested? Then why are you getting annoyed at me?

Hmph, I’m ignoring you now.

To continue – usually, if you die with a relatively intact and not rotten body –

You are an organ donor, right? Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Like I was saying, if you die with a relatively intact and not rotten body, hospital staff would cut you up and distribute your parts to people in need.

Why am I rubbing salt in the wound? I swear, I’m not trying to make you feel bad, I’m just providing some context here. It sucks that none of your organs are donatable.

But because none of that is applicable, you can move on to the next step – registering the death with Vital Statistics and getting a death certificate. Usually, the funeral home would do all that, but Wei Wuxian knows people and it’ll go faster if he registers it himself. He’ll let the coroner’s office know to expedite your autopsy.

Surprised? Yeah, they’re going to do an autopsy. In fact, I believe they’re legally mandated to do an autopsy on any suspicious deaths, and your family would probably like to know for sure that you weren’t bludgeoned to death by a thief or something.

Anyways.

With the death certificate comes a disposition permit – the permission to dispose of human remains. Hand that all over to the funeral home, and then comes the formal funeral planning – the viewing coffin, cremation, wake, corpse makeup etc. etc.

But that’s only one channel in the fun logistics of death. There’s also…

Distributing the goods! The documents you obtained in the previous step will help with that.

When a grandparent dies, there’s the question of inheritance. Sadly, you’re much too isolated to be having any legal dependants, and despite your paranoia, you never wrote a will.

Writing a will makes it real, doesn’t it?

You were cognizant of the possibility of death – to the point of embracing the hypothetical end of a misfortunate car crash, a badly timed pedestrian crossing, a fatal illness – but you weren’t really ready to die, were you?

You never wrote a suicide note. You never wrote a will.

Thankfully, your siblings are rich, and it’s not like you have that much to distribute, anyways. They don’t particularly need your pennies.

Jiang Yanli seems to be thinking of donating your savings to a local animal shelter, in your memory. Isn’t that sweet of her? You probably have enough saved up that the animal shelter could set up a whole new shelter downtown.

Aw, you’re smiling! You’re right. You really are lucky to have a sister as sweet and loving as Jiang Yanli. Too bad she can’t hear it straight from you.

Anyways, my point is that nobody really needs your money, or your car, or that guitar you bought on a whim but never ended up learning how to play. Your siblings’ll split up your effects, holding onto objects that remind them of you. Wei Wuxian, in particular, is the hoarding type – even if it doesn’t seem like it at first glance. He’ll scoop up all the items and attribute a probably false memory to them, regaling his boyfriend with the fabricated tales while sobbing.

Your sister is more sentimental – she’ll take back the gifts she gave you, and when she gets home she’ll shed some tears, remembering how happy you were when she gave them to you.

Over time, they’ll forget why they have any of those items, and one day, they’ll forget about you.

But that’s a long way off yet!

For now, for better or for worse, you’re at the forefront of all of their minds.

And honestly? Splitting up your physical belongings is the easy part. The annoying part is going to be using that death certificate to shut down all your bank accounts, credit cards, insurance, contact the tax people, all that jazz. Thank god you’re not really up on social media. Imagine how emotionally draining it would be to shut down an Instagram account.

After that…

Hey, let’s play another game. Who do you think – outside the family – are they going to notify first? Come on, guess! Who’s going to be the first outsider to learn that Jiang Cheng’s dead?

Yeah, I know that you haven’t kept in touch with any of the people you knew in high school or university. But there are a few names that pop up, aren’t there?

You don’t count Nie Huaisang because technically he’s a family friend?

…You’ve got a point.

Your father’s probably going to send out a company wide memo about you dying, since it’ll be on the news anyways?

And pray tell, how are the news networks going to get this story? You’re not as famous as you think you are, why do you think they’ll care?

Oh, sorry, I misunderstood. That makes sense, making it into financial news. The heir of one of the biggest companies out there kicking the bucket is sure to be a great opportunity to suck up to the CEO at the funeral.

Not sure why I thought that you thought you were going to make front page headlines. After all, you weren’t even murdered, and you didn’t kill yourself. “CEOs Son Dies in Cabinet and Soup Accident” doesn’t make for an appealing, reputable headline. That sounds more like clickbait from one of those banner ads.

Can’t even manage to die in a cool way, huh. I’ll bet you that Wei Wuxian’s death’ll never be as asinine. What do they say? Live fast, die young, leave a beautiful corpse. Somehow, you only managed one of those things, and it’s the least important one on that list.

Anyways, I guess there’s not much of a game to play.

Hm? What sort of game am I playing at? Jiang Cheng, I’m not playing at anything! I’m just a guide, alright, a guide.

There’s certain rules that need to be followed, certain steps that need to be taken. I’m just here to make sure you make an informed decision at the very end.

So, I’m going to drag you where you need to be, whether you like it or not. For example – this.

Jiang Mansion

Your mother knows that wrapping up your affairs could take weeks if she went through official channels. She’s worked with clients with dead family members. If they loved the dead, they cried while talking about it. If they hated the dead, they bemoaned the absolute nuisance that was contacting all the banks and departments and government offices to legally get everything done and over with.

Your mother knows all that, and that’s why she’s calling her older sister. Meishan Yu Professional Services – like I said, powerful. They have contacts in all the relevant financial institutions and government bureaus to get your shit wrapped up quick. Once Wei Wuxian gets the death certificate by tomorrow morning, he’ll forward it to your mother, who’ll pass it along to her sister along with a list she’s making of all your accounts.

Your mother knows everything about you. When you moved out, she didn’t bother looking into where you lived and your bank accounts – she could have. She was still mad at you for leaving, so she thought let the brat suffer on his own, see how hard it is to live alone and ignored you for a little bit. But you never came crawling back for money or for assistance, and you looked perfectly healthy at the holiday gatherings – for all she criticized you, she was proud that you were able to live independently with no issues.

So she put aside stalking your bank accounts and your home address – and then she was busy enough to forget about the whole thing altogether. Really shows how much she trusted you.

You’re right, it is a bit scary how much information your mom has access to, although it’s proving to be quite useful in this case.

-------------------

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the hastily strewn pile of case notes that she had been working on in the morning.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

She was going to need to drop this case; there was no way she was litigating anything for at least the rest of this year.

Even as she filled form after form on autopilot, she was keenly aware that she wasn’t thinking at all. When she had called her sister about the news –

Jiang Cheng’s dead.

Shit, Ziyuan, are you holding up ok? Is there anything I can do?

I’d just like the paperwork to be filed and processed as soon as possible.

Of course. Send us the papers, and I’ll make sure that everything’s taken care of, alright? You need to take care of yourself. Don’t push yourself. I’m here if you need anything. Just call.

It hadn’t felt like she was talking at all.

Ding!

Wei Wuxian had texted her an update in the group chat with herself, Yanli, Zixuan, and that Lan boy.

Jiang Cheng’s at the coroners. Need this to be signed off for the autopsy. Will be done by tomorrow. Which funeral home are we using?

Another form to sign.

She typed out a quick response to Wei Wuxian.

Signed. Send to Yiling Funeral Services.

Wei Wuxian had worked there briefly. She had been horrified – a funeral home, of all places! Was the Wei brat hellbent on destroying their family’s reputation?

Got it. Wei Wuxian replied.

The irony of it all, that she was grateful Wei Wuxian had at least some knowledge of burying the dead.

Even if the dead was her son.

…

She had heard, some hours ago, the sound of Fengmian entering his own office. What he was doing in there, she had no clue.

She didn’t particularly feel like looking at Jiang Fengmian, let alone talk to the man.

He wasn’t included in the group chat she created, and it looked like nobody had taken the initiative to add him. She was still furious at how unconcerned and dispassionate he had been at Jiang Cheng’s apartment – but he was the boy’s father.

What was she going to do?

----------------------

Jiang Fengmian had arrived back to a darkened Jiang Mansion. None of the lights were on, save for the sliver coming from his wife’s office.

He hesitated a moment – should he check in on his wife? – before deciding to leave her in peace, heading to his own office instead.

The wills. Jiang Cheng would need to be removed. And the succession plan – who was going to be his heir now? Certainly not A-Xian, and Yanli was already married to the Jin heir.

It wasn’t as if A-Xian wasn’t capable, it was just – he wasn’t the Jiang heir. The Jiang heir had always been Jiang Cheng. A-Xian had his own thing going on, to be sure. Even if he offered, he had no doubt A-Xian would turn him down.

He collapsed into the chair in his office. He was exhausted. Completely and utterly tuckered out.

Really, he couldn’t even muster the energy to even turn on his computer, let alone contact his personal assistant to help him with –

With what? Disseminating the news? He was making changes to the succession plan, the board would need to be notified.

And what department had Jiang Cheng been working in, again? He vaguely remembered placing him in one of the marketing departments that had been underperforming, knowing that Jiang Cheng had worked his magic on the last two lagging departments that he had been placed in. His co-workers would probably want to know – the last two departments had complained endlessly about their boss being transferred to a different section – staff seemed to appreciate A-Cheng quite a bit.

With a tired sigh, he massaged his temples. Even though he had left the stink behind, his stomach was still churning uneasily.

Why was his son not alive? He wondered.

Why did Jiang Cheng have to die?

…

He couldn’t keep avoiding having a conversation with his wife. Jiang Cheng, no matter what Ziyuan thought, was his son. Just like A-Xian. The both of them were his sons.

Did he want to be part of the funeral planning? No, not particularly. He didn’t like planning funerals.

But somewhere, deep down, he needed to be part of the planning. It wasn’t that he was bitter that he was the only one that seemed to be left out of the process, it was –

It was his son. He was burying his son. His stubborn, diligent, earnest, prideful, hard-to-please but easy-to-anger – his son. His son.

His child.

And not even his child’s mother had the right to bar him from –

Oh.

Am I asking too much when I ask for you to mourn our son? Or is there just nothing to mourn?

Did his wife truly believe that he felt nothing at A-Cheng’s death? Did his – had his children thought the same thing?

What had he done so wrong for them to think that?

Chapter Text

How were they going to explain to Jin Ling that jiujiu was dead?

Jin Ling absolutely adored his uncle. He hung on to his every word, staring with wide-eyed wonder whenever Jiang Cheng would tell him stories about his misfortunes, cackling with laughter whenever Jiang Cheng would chase him around the house while threatening to break whatever bone of the day.

How did you tell a child that his uncle was dead, and that he was never coming back?

In fact, how do you explain the concept of death to a three-and-a-half-year-old in general?

Have any ideas, Jiang Cheng? No, I didn’t think so.

This is the conundrum your sister and brother-in-law are currently facing as they drive silently home to their son.

Jin Ling, like I said, adores you. You’re his absolute favourite and you know it – you’ll lord it over Wei Wuxian whenever you have the chance, because while Wei Wuxian is popular with kids in general in a way you definitely are not, you’re popular with the only kid that matters.

You’re proud of the fact that Jin Ling loves you. Nice to be number one in someone’s power rankings, after all.

Not only that, hanging out with your nephew was one of the only spots of fun you had in your life, which is definitely pretty pathetic. The reclusive grump and the bratty kid, you two were sure a pair to behold.

But to get back on track – how are Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan going to explain to that insolent brat of theirs that jiujiu’s dead?

--------------------

Google was truly a godsend, Jiang Yanli thought, as she scrolled through the results of her search. “How to tell child about death” – there were hundreds of parenting blogs, psychology sites, YouTube tutorials, all ready to explain the abstract concept to children.

Jiang Yanli hadn’t expected needing to have this talk with A-Ling – ever.

Her parents were healthy and likely to live at least another 20 years, well into their 80s – In fact, she couldn’t imagine her mother dying before 100. She could say the same for A-Xuan’s family – Jin Guangshan was dead already, and Lady Jin was her mother’s compatriot when it came to spite-filled living, also unlikely to die before 100.  Her assumption had been that by the time a family member died, Jin Ling would be old enough to have organically understood the concept of death.

She was devastated that this wasn’t the case, even if it was a little cruel of her to think – of all people, it had to be Jiang Cheng, Jin Ling’s favourite uncle.

She stared out the window, watching the familiar trees lining their side street flash by. She laid a hand on her husband’s thigh.

“Pull over.”

Jin Zixuan obliged without question, stopping the car by the curb.

“We need to discuss how we’re going to tell Jin Ling.”

Zixuan looked down, obviously uncomfortable. For all her husband’s bluster and arrogance, it hid a soft heart and an unwillingness to confront those emotions he had once been taught to be “weakness.”

“We can’t not tell Jin Ling,” she reminded him. “And its best that he hears this from the both of us. Together.”

Zixuan nodded, then sighed. “I know, A-Li. It’s just – Jin Ling’s just a baby, and he loves – loved – Jiang Cheng.” He smiled ruefully. “Sometimes, I wondered if A-Ling didn’t like him more than me.”

She remembered – it was true. When Zixuan went to pick Jin Ling up after a day with his uncle, A-Ling would fuss and cry, demanding to stay with jiujiu a little longer.

We should stop getting Jiang Cheng to babysit, Zixuan had pouted after a particularly bad episode that had resulted with Jin Ling staying the night with Jiang Cheng. She had only giggled and whispered that it was nice to have a night to themselves as well.

The next morning, she had been greeted by an exhausted but happy looking uncle, lugging a hyperactive Jin Ling in hand.

I’m returning your child, Jiang Cheng had grunted, handing over a giggling A-Ling to A-Xuan.

A-Ling return! The child had crowed triumphantly.

She didn’t know what Jiang Cheng said to have A-Ling come home without a fuss, but it was undeniable that A-Ling had A-Cheng wrapped around his little finger.

Even these happy memories were tinged with an edge of grief; Jiang Cheng was dead, and no amount of reminiscing would bring him back now.

Her grief must have been clear on her face as A-Xuan leaned over to give her an awkward pat on the back.

“We’ll talk together,“ he said. “I’ll always be beside you. Now, what does Google have to say about breaking the news?”

--------------------

Google really is an incredible piece of technology, notwithstanding their sketchy dealings in data and the fact that they literally know everything about you.

Google would know that out of all your regrets about being dead, Jin Ling is your greatest.

You loved that child like he was your own. Although you were grateful that he had legitimate parents to return to at the end of the day, you didn’t begrudge a single moment you spent with Jin Ling. To you, he’s worth sticking around for, even if you have to exist untethered from reality until your soul returns to dust.

But really, what can you even do for him in this state except make him miserable? Even if you gained the powers of a poltergeist, all you can do is haunt the boy’s room. Does he really need that?

What’s my point? Don’t worry about it – it’s just something for you to think on.

Anyways, my actual point is basically – Jin Ling is going to be inconsolable, and it’s going to suck for everyone.

---------------------

“Bye bye, Auntie Jiang and Uncle Jin!” A-Qing said, waving her stack of overtime cash in goodbye as she ran down the driveway to her ride. “Thanks for the bonus!”

“Bye bye!!!” A-Ling called, waving both hands frantically in the air. “Bye bye!!!”

As A-Qing’s ride disappeared into the distance, A-Ling turned his attention to his dad, grasping at Zixuan’s leg.

“Hug!” he demanded. “Baba, bào!”

A-Xuan huffed lightly. “Alright, A-Ling. Ready?”

A-Ling stretched out his arms, and A-Xuan lifted A-Ling up into a hug.

“Were you a good boy today, A-Ling?” he asked.

“Sleepy now,” A-Ling confided, “played a lot of games.”

Jin Zixuan looked over at A-Li in askance – talk to A-Ling now, or nap first?

A-Li tilted her head. “A-Ling,” she said. “Mom and dad have some bad news to tell you.”

A-Ling yawned. “News…?” he asked blearily.

A-Li hesitated, then shook her head. “Alright, A-Ling, let’s take a nap first. Daddy will carry you upstairs.”

“Nap.” A-Ling agreed.

---------------------

When you’re dealing with an adult, you almost always want to let them know immediately about a death. It hurts, really, when there’s big news and you’re the last to know – you’d know the most about that, wouldn’t you? It’s about being on equal ground.

Once they know about the death, you can generally leave them to stew in their own grief – at a certain age, you’re forced to have some sort of emotional regulation.

With kids, it’s different. You don’t know how they’ll react, for one.

Children don’t have the capacity – they aren’t equipped to handle grief quite yet. They’ve only existed on this mortal plane for such a short period of time – they’ve barely had time to be alive, and you already want them to be cognizant of death?

But most importantly, you never want to see a child – your child, especially – cry.

At the very least, you didn’t decide to burden this child with grief of your own will, although I must admit that it was hard for you to believe that anyone – including Jin Ling – would ever grieve at your death.

Yeah, I know. Your sister being sad was one reason you never killed yourself. Once Jin Ling was born, he became your second reason to live.

…

As you ponder that, Jin Zixuan is drawing a bath for Yanli, taking his brother-in-law’s advice to heart, and ah – they’re getting in together.

Alright, that’s enough. We’re out of here. Don’t worry, we’ll be back once Jin Ling wakes up.

You weren’t worried?

Oh, finally understanding how things work around here, I see.

Hey – for a change – how about I let you choose where we go next? Seems like you should be strong enough now to manage that.

Focus on the person you want to see, and follow the flow. You’ll be able to feel it, just reach out and –

Jiang Cheng’s Apartment – Parking Lot

Your brother? What is there to see about your brother?

You know Wei Wuxian, you can guess at what he’s doing with 93% accuracy – as you expected, he’s there moping in his car with Lan Wangji. Well, you didn’t know where he was going to be moping, but you knew he was going to be moping.

Hm – from what I can see, it looks like your body has been carted off, and the cleaners Wei Wuxian hired are dealing with your mess admirably.

I’m wrong about you knowing what Wei Wuxian’s doing with 93% accuracy, and you actually know nothing about him at all?

Why do you sound so bitter about it? Just because the two of you are siblings doesn’t mean that you guys have to know exactly what the other is doing.

Anyways, what is it that you don’t know?

You can’t believe he’s so broken up about your death?

Ah, I see. There’s a little bit of morbid fascination on your end, that your brother seems so beat up over your death.

Was this how you imagined it to be?

You still need at least a month’s worth of data before you can establish this as more than a spur of the moment behaviour?

I’d call your accusation cruel, A-Cheng, if you weren’t also being cruel to yourself. Cynicism in an effort to prevent yourself from getting hurt. I’d say it doesn’t suit you, but sadly, it’s tailor-made.

Still hard for you to believe that your brother loves you as much as you love him, huh? A-Cheng, wouldn’t you be offended if Wei Wuxian told you that he always thought you didn’t love him as much as he loved you?

It’s the same, the same. Just because you don’t want to believe it’s the same doesn’t make it any less the same.

Oh, don’t bring your dad into this. Your relationship with your dad is nothing like your relationship with your brother.

Speaking of which, aren’t you curious about what your dad’s up to? He’s feeling quite shocked after being stonewalled out of your funeral planning, after all.

Ah ah ah, you can’t use the “I’m dead, it doesn’t matter” excuse – you clearly care enough to check in on Wei Wuxian and Jin Ling, so all of this matters to you.

What do I want you to say?

I don’t want you to say anything, Jiang Cheng. I just want you to be truthful.

Things that you can’t admit in life that you can admit in death, that sort of thing.

What is there to admit? Well, you’ll have to tell me that.

…

Oh, but it looks like your timing is impeccable, Jiang Cheng. Your brother’s about to make a very important phone call to a good friend of yours – I said we weren’t playing the game anymore, but I think we won anyways –

-------------------

“I have to tell Huaisang,” Wei Wuxian said, leaning miserably (and uncomfortably) across the center console onto Lan Zhan’s shoulders. “He’ll want to know.”

The three of them – Jiang Cheng, Huaisang, and himself – had been inseparable during their college years. Huaisang somehow had the ability to drag Jiang Cheng out of the dorms, and Jiang Cheng managed to convince Huaisang to study for more than five minutes at a time. It was a somewhat cursed pairing, he used to think, but it worked out surprisingly well.

It helped, probably, that Nie Heavy Industries worked closely with Jiang Corp in a lot of areas – Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang commiserated quite a bit when it came to joint projects that could benefit the two conglomerates.

Nie Mingjue would hear the news of the death through official channels, most likely, but Nie Huaisang deserved to hear it from him.

Lan Zhan placed a comforting hand on his boyfriend’s head as Wei Wuxian pulled out the phone to dial Nie Huaisang’s number.

The phone only rang once before being picked up.

“Ah, Wei-xiong! I thought I’d never see your caller ID ever again, what an unexpected pleasure! Honestly, I thought you might have forgotten all about little old me now that you’re permanently attached to Lan Wangji. I talk to Jiang-xiong more than you these days, so that’s a real indictment of your bros before hos prowess, Wei-xiong. Anyways, what’s up! Oh, I have to warn you – if you need anything related to Nie Heavy Industries, you gotta go through official channels, da-ge’s banned me from bringing anyone to headquarters so I can’t help you there.”

Normally, Huaisang’s chipper attitude had an uncanny way of lifting anyone’s spirits, but today?

His stomach sank as he spoke the words.

“Huaisang, Jiang Cheng’s dead.”

He heard the sound of the phone clattering to the floor, followed by muffled swearing.

“Oh. What the fuck, Wei Wuxian. Couldn’t you have told me you have bad news, like told me to sit down or something? Holy shit.”

He’d never had to tell anyone about anybody being dead. How else did you say it? Dress it up in pretty words?” My deepest condolences, but my brother has been found fucking dead?

“Holy shit,” Huaisang continued frantically. “So that’s why Jiang-xiong hasn’t replied to my last text, I thought he was just busy since he’s got that huge project – Fuck, how many days? How – oh my god, did someone actually break into his apartment and murder him? I thought he was just being dramatic when he said he could hear random creaking noises in the middle of the night, and I thought I was supposed to be the dramatic one – fuck, Wei-xiong, say something! What happened to Jiang Cheng?! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”

“You – Jiang Cheng replies when you text?” Wei Wuxian said dumbly.

“What?!” Huaisang screeched. “Who cares about that! Wei-xiong, I’m serious – “

“I only just found out today,” Wei Wuxian replied hastily. “I had no clue, I don’t – I didn’t – I –“

I wouldn’t have known anything was wrong. I had no clue – even Nie Huaisang – I never know what Jiang Cheng’s doing, what the hell kind of brother am I – I never know, I never –

“Are you ok?” Huaisang sounded tinny, but concerned. “Wei Wuxian, are you there?”

He concentrated on the feeling of Lan Zhan’s fingers combing slowly through his hair.

“I’m alright, Huaisang. I just thought you should hear about it from me, that’s all.” He said, regaining some of his composure. “We’re still waiting on autopsy results, but it looks like the cabinets collapsed and knocked him out cold. One of the plates seems to have – you know…“

“God damnit, Wei Wuxian, are you telling me he died in an accident?” Huaisang asked, more pissed than upset.

“Yes?”

“I told him it was a bad idea! I told him – that stubborn bitch!” He heard Huaisang’s voice crack, words sounding more and more wet. “Da-ge and I would have let him stay anytime, but no, he wants to get a shitty apartment in the middle of nowhere, living his life in idiotic squalor all by himself –”

“What are you talking about?” Wei Wuxian asked, confused. “He talked to you about moving out?”

“What do you mean, what am I talking about?” Huaisang replied, offended but still teary. “I was the one who took him apartment hunting, god knows what garbage can he would’ve been living in if I hadn’t intervened, honestly, and even I wasn’t able to convince him that 404 is a bad apartment number – and Da-ge, the traitor, was all like ‘numbers are just numbers, didi, who cares?’, and ahhhh I knew that was a cursed apartment! What the hell, Jiang Cheng!”

Wei Wuxian felt as if a whole new world of unknowns had been opened up in front of him.

“Huaisang,” he asked cautiously. “Are you ok?”

“No, I’m not OK, Wei Wuxian! You can’t just tell me that Jiang Cheng’s dead!” Huaisang wailed. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“You, and Jiang Cheng – were you? A thing?”

“What?! What the fuck, Wei Wuxian!” Huaisang cried out in frustration. “I don’t need to be his Lan Wangji just to care about him! Just because you don’t care enough to check in on Jiang Cheng doesn’t mean I can’t care! Even if we were, I can’t believe you’re just asking that now!”

Huaisang was full on sobbing now, but “Wait – what do you meant that I don’t care enough to check in on Jiang Cheng?” he asked, hurt.

“I don’t know, Wei-xiong, when was the last time you called Jiang-xiong to talk about him, and not yourself?” Huaisang said accusingly.

He was taken aback by the sudden venom in Huaisang’s voice. “I mean, I didn’t call often, I didn’t want to bother him –“

“Bother him? Wei Wuxian, you’re brothers! That’s what siblings do! God knows you bother him enough with your existence, but giving Jiang Cheng a phone call is crossing the line?”

“He’s always so busy! Even when I called with my problems, he always listened, I never – he never really talked about things like that, and I didn’t push, I didn’t want to cross any boundaries – “

“So what? He treats you as a brother, listens to all your problems and you don’t have the courtesy to offer the same to him?’

“What? Huaisang, what are you trying to say? Huaisang? Hello?”

He looked down at his phone – Huaisang had hung up on him.

Bzzt.

A text, from Huaisang.

Wei-xiong, thanks for letting me know. I need some time to gather my thoughts. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.

Let me know your plans for the funeral. I’ll help where I can.

He stared blankly at his phone.

“Wei Ying?”

He turned towards Lan Zhan, who had climbed over the center console to better hug his boyfriend.

“I’m here.” Lan Zhan whispered into his ear.

He gave Lan Zhan a weak smile. “Yeah, I know. I love you too.”

He told Jiang Cheng that too, didn’t he? Jiang Cheng knew that he loved him?

--------------------

You’ve always been much closer to the Nie siblings than you let on – you might’ve rarely attended Nie Huaisang’s extravagant parties, but you were closer to Huaisang than many of the regular guests.

And through Huaisang, you got to know his da-ge. Nie Mingjue – the head of Nie Heavy Industries, the man who had successfully diversified from running a well-off national meat processing and steel manufacturing company into being a global leader of shipping logistics. He was a sort of a role model for you, Mingjue-ge. He was your image of an ideal CEO, someone who was able to handle so many different roles and excel in all of them.

Of course, half of the reason for his success was Huaisang, who was always whispering in his brother’s ears the news he collected from his drunk guests.

More relevantly, at least half of Huaisang’s schemes could be attributed to you.

 Now, now, don’t deny it. Who’s here to be mad at you for aiding a potential competitor? Nobody, that’s who.

It was a shame you were so underutilized at Jiang Corp, punted around to help underperforming departments. Those shipping lanes could have been Jiang Corp’s.

But none of that’s important. Your brother never really knew how well you got along with the Nie’s, did he? You never told him. He never asked.

It’s not that Huaisang visits often – you’re both adults, you’ve both got things to do, and you appreciate having a good night’s sleep more than hanging out at one of Huaisang’s information gathering upscale parties.

It’s not even that Huaisang contacts you that often – he texted you two days before you died, and you didn’t bother responding. He was right, you were busy.

Jiang-xiong, lmk when you have time – got something to show you!

Oh, what the hell, I can’t wait.

JCContainers.jpg

Look – we painted a section of our logo-branded shipping containers purple! Rest are still silver like you recommended. Keeping things cool 😎

Our first ship returns next month, don’t forget! Don’t you dare overwork yourself and miss the grand returnal, I’ll never forgive you.

Even though you barely respond to Huaisang’s texts in a timely manner, even though you grouch at him when he calls you, you’ve managed to stay in contact over the so many years you’ve been out of college.

You say that Nie Huaisang’s technically a family friend? The Nie’s have known the Jiang’s for a long time now? It was a friendship of convenience?

Can you say the same now?

…

Still in shock, I see. Just like you thought Wei Wuxian wouldn’t care, you thought that Nie Huaisang would care even less.

You might be good at predicting the outcomes of your own actions, but your low self-esteem is really preventing you from being able to predict the outcomes of your actions on others.

Hey, what are you doing – hey – wait!

--------------------

Nie Huaisang’s Atelier

Wow, I didn’t expect that from you, taking the initiative to go scope things out on your own. I kind of regret showing you how to do it.

So why are we here? I thought he was just a family friend?

He was a friend. That’s right, you never called him a friend when you were alive, but he was your friend, wasn’t he? A very precious friend of yours.

You’ve visited this atelier before, Huaisang proudly showing off both finished pieces and works in progress. You’ve always been fascinated by how colourful the world is through Huaisang’s brush – in stark contrast to yourself, who sees the world in blacks and greys.

Was it love? We’ll never know. All that can be remembered now is that he was a friend.

One that cares enough about you to cry over your death.

I’m sorry, Jiang Cheng, but we can’t stay here for very long. I’m surprised you were actually able to pull us here in the first place – we’re usually bound to family, after all, and close friends aren’t actually family.

You’ll be pulled back soon enough…

…

…

--------------------

Jiang Mansion – Madame Yu’s Office

Knock knock.

What the hell did that husband of hers want now? Was he not already satisfied by how things had went?

She really wasn’t in the mood to deal with anything he had to say – not now, and possibly not ever.

Knock knock.

If there was anything the man was good at, it was giving up.

She was persistent. She had patience. She could wait.

She refocused her attention onto the papers in front of her, studiously ignoring the third knock knock on her door.

A few minutes passed with no other sounds.

Good. Leave, and don’t come back.

The silence held for a few more moments, before she heard a sudden voice.

“My lady, may I enter?”

He hadn’t left?

She didn’t respond.

“…Then, may I speak to you though the door?”

That struck a nerve. Yu Ziyuan jolted out of her chair, stalking over to the door, yanking it open with an inordinate strength.

“If you have anything to say to me, say it to my face,” she hissed lowly, expecting Jiang Fengmian to back off like he always did, the coward.

Instead, for possibly the first time in their marriage, he stood his ground.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I –“

“I don’t want your sorry’s, Jiang Fengmian, it’s too late for that.” She cut him off, unwilling to hear whatever nonsense he had concocted in his brain. “Especially when you don’t even know what you’re apologizing for. And don’t!” she said, raising her voice to speak over whatever platitudes the man was about spit out. “Don’t interrupt me! I’m tired, Jiang Fengmian. I’m tired of you only meaning what you say when you criticize me or my children. I’m tired of your praise going only to Wei Wuxian.”

The boy’s name felt like a curse on her lips, like the name of some sort of earthbound resentful spirit whose duty in death was to ruin everything that she had ever held dear. Speaking the name usually angered her further, but right now, it seemed to suck all of the energy out of her body.

“I get it now, Jiang Fengmian. I’m the one who should be sorry, aren’t I? I’m sorry for forcing you to marry me. I’m sorry that I had your children. I’m sorry that you still feel obligated to stick with me.”

With every word, she could feel her heart twisting tighter and tighter, her tongue heavy as lead as she forced herself to finish her thought.

“I’m sorry I loved you.”

Because she really was. She really was sorry.

Loving Jiang Fengmian had obviously been a mistake that had cost her everything.

“Yu Ziyuan,” Jiang Fengmian whispered.

When was the last time her husband had called her by her full name in anything other than anger?

“Ziyuan, do you really think I’d marry someone I didn’t love?”

“It’s not a matter of what I believe, Jiang Fengmian. It’s a matter of whether you did or didn’t.” She replied dully. “And it’s finally clear to me that you’ve never loved me.”

“Why?” her husband asked, with the audacity to sound hurt with his puppy-dog eyes. “Why would you think that?”

She let out a harsh laugh. “Why? You’re asking me why, Jiang Fengmian, like you don’t already know? Are you doing this on purpose, forcing me to spell it all out for you so you can revel in my – Jiang Fengmian, are you so blind that you truly don’t know?”

“I knew that you were angry whem I adopted Wei Wuxian without consulting you,” Jiang Fengmian replied, agitated. “And I know you think that I don’t love A-Cheng, but I really, truly, don’t know why! I married you because I love you! I love A-Cheng, he’s my son! I –“

“Oh, Jiang Fengmian.” This time, her laugh was more resigned. “You’re serious. You seriously – You loved Cangse Sanren. Everyone knew that you were heartbroken when she chose Wei Changze. Everyone knew that I was your rebound.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you, my love, I swear –“

“You wouldn’t have known you were doing it even if you were in the process of doing it! You’re telling me you don’t still love Cangse Sanren? That every time you look at her son you don’t see her smiling back at you? That when you speak to me you don’t remember oh, Cangse Sanren would never have said something like that? You’re telling me that you love me when you never even look me in the eye when we talk? Jiang Fengmian, I knew you were stupid, but to be this stupid?”

“I –“

“And my son. My A-Cheng. You’re so preoccupied with your miniature Cangse Sanren, when have you ever bothered to spare my A-Cheng a glance?”

“A-Xian lived on the streets! He needed –“

“Yes, Wei Wuxian needed! But what about A-Cheng?! Didn’t he need a father too?”

“I was –“

“You were Wei Wuxian’s father! You were never a father to A-Cheng! Once Wei Wuxian arrived, when did you ever acknowledge Jiang Cheng?”

“He’s my –“

“He was your son! Your son, Jiang Fengmian! But you treated him like the adopted child!”

“How did I –“

“His dogs! You gave away his dogs, and you never even spoke a word to him about it! He was a child, he loved those mongrels, and you just made them disappear, and you had the audacity to discipline A-Cheng for throwing a fit! If I had been there, god, Jiang Fengmian, how could you have done that?”

“A-Xian –“

“I DON’T GIVE A SHIT! So he’s afraid of dogs, whatever! Put the dogs in a kennel! Keep them away from the child! Why the FUCK would you give them away?”

She laughed again, bitterly. ”And oh, it all goes downhill from there for A-Cheng, doesn’t it. You won’t go swimming with him anymore. You stop attending his concerts, his competitions. You start praising Wei Wuxian and asking why A-Cheng can’t be more like him. Since then, have you ever bothered to look at A-Cheng on his own merits, without seeing my shadow in him, the same way you see Cangse Sanren in Wei Wuxian?”

“I – !“

“Have you seen how hard A-Cheng works for you? Have you even noticed the effort he’s put into meeting your expectations? No, instead you shower praise on Wei Wuxian, no matter what he’s doing!”

“I didn’t mean – “

“How many times do I have to say it, Jiang Fengmian! It doesn’t matter what you mean! All that matters is what you did! And what have you done, my husband? What have you done for us?”

Jiang Fengmian’s face was pale with shock. “I –“

She let out a heavy sigh. “Jiang Fengmian. I couldn’t care less if you decide not to help. Just stay out of our way, ok?”

She tried to shut the door, but Jiang Fengmian lunged forward, keeping the door open.

“No,” Jiang Fengmian stuttered out. “No, Ziyuan, I didn’t know, I swear, I – I – A-Xian, I thought he needed more attention, he was adopted off the streets, but A-Cheng, I didn’t know, I – he’s my son, Ziyuan, of course I love him, I –“

Jiang Fengmian’s eyes were beginning to water.

When was the last time she had seen him cry?

Oh – it was a faded memory, one she had tried to erase. Jiang Fengmian on his knees, sobbing as he heard the news of the accident that had killed Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze.

He can’t even cry like that for his own son.

“I don’t care,” she snapped. “I really don’t. If you want to help with the funeral, get your Wei Wuxian to add you to the group.”

“I love you, Yu Ziyuan,” her husband choked out. “I swear. You and A-Cheng and A-Li, I love you all. I’m sorry I didn’t – I couldn’t make that more clear, I’m so sorry, I don’t – I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Get out.” She growled, pushing him away from the door and slamming it shut. She leaned against the door, waiting as the sound of her husband’s footsteps disappeared into the distance.

She collapsed to the ground and began to cry.

--------------------

That was a rude transition, wasn’t it? No matter how much you want to run from your father, it seems we can’t let you do that.

Your mother was actively cruel towards Wei Wuxian. You resented her for that – you thought her actions were pushing your father closer and closer to Wei Wuxian.

At the same time, you resented your father for not realizing his favouritism was only causing your mother to become angrier. Your father was always praising Wei Wuxian, yet he never stepped in with more than empty words when your mother verbally abused him. He never addressed the tension.

You always thought it was because he just didn’t want to deal with it.

But perhaps that was only a small part of it. Perhaps he just didn’t fully realize the consequences of his actions. Which is a little sad, for a CEO of his caliber.

Confused? That’s alright. After all, you wouldn’t have heard any of these conversations had you still been alive.

This must be quite overwhelming, everything you’ve learned today.

But the day isn’t over yet.

A-Ling has just woken up from his nap.

---------------------

Jiang Yanli opted for the family to eat dinner before breaking the news – A-Ling needed to eat, and she wasn’t sure that he would after finding out the news.

After the dishes were done and the table was cleaned, Zixuan carried A-Ling over to the living room, tossing the boy onto the sectional as he giggled and kicked.

She plopped down next to A-Ling, sandwiching the boy between herself and Zixuan.

“A-Ling, remember when we said we had some bad news?” She asked, patting her child on his head.

“Mhm.” A-Ling replied, fussing under her touch.

“Well, jiujiu’s dead.” She said frankly. That’s what the websites had said – be straightforward and honest.

“What’s dead?” A-Ling asked. “Is bad?”

“It means that jiujiu’s body has stopped working,” Zixuan explained.

“Oh. When’s it work again?” Yanli shivered at the question. Never. It’ll never work again, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t seem to get the words out of her mouth.

Thankfully, Zixuan could still speak. “A-Ling, jiujiu’s body will never work again.”

“Never ever?”

“Never ever.” Zixuan confirmed.

“Oh. Ok.”

Sensing that A-Ling wasn’t about to throw a fit, Zixuan continued. “So jiujiu can’t visit us anymore, because his body isn’t working.”

A-Ling scrunched up his face. “Jiujiu won’t visit?”

“Can’t visit,” Zixuan clarified. “Because his body isn’t working. Because he’s dead.”

“Oh. Can I play now?”

Her husband could only stare helplessly at her. The websites had said that this might happen – some children process things in chunks, and her A-Ling was definitely a kid that learned better with real life examples.

“Alright, A-Ling, we can play for now,” she said, ruffling her son’s hair. “But if you have any questions, you can ask mom and dad, alright?”

“OK!”

She swallowed back tears as A-Ling clambered off the sofa to pick up the block toys he had been stacking all day.

He’d never see A-Ling grow up.

Jiang Cheng really was dead.

---------------------

Just because you don’t care enough to check in on Jiang Cheng doesn’t mean I can’t care!

Nie Huaisang’s words echoed in Wei Wuxian’s mind as he lay in bed next to Lan Zhan.

He loved Jiang Cheng. Of course he cared about Jiang Cheng! Why would –

But he had known nothing about what Huaisang and Jiang Cheng were up to. He hadn’t known until Jiang Cheng had officially moved out that he was even looking for a new place. And now, to be told that Nie Huaisang and the literal CEO of Nie Heavy Industries were the one’s helping Jiang Cheng find a new place?

What the hell? How could he have not known that?

He racked his brain, trying to recall if Jiang Cheng had ever mentioned it to him –

He couldn’t remember.

---------------------

Did you tell your brother about moving out? I’m pretty sure you did, didn’t you? It was just a throwaway sentence –

Yeah, I’m looking to move out soon.

That’s great, Chengcheng! Finally spreading your wings! Did you know, when I moved in with Lan Zhan, there were so many things that we had to plan, it was ridiculous, like are we going to share toothbrushes or something?

That’s disgusting.

Yeah, Lan Zhan might love me but his face did this adorable little wrinkle when I suggested – as a joke, mind you – that we could share toothbrushes. Hey, are you gonna be rooming with someone? You going to share a toothbrush?

No, I’m getting my own place – Huaisang’s been helping me scope out some locations.

Oh god, speaking of Huaisang – did you hear what happened at that charity gala he threw? Remember Wen Chao?

Yeah?

Well, Wen Chao brought his annoying girlfriend along, and for some reason she thought that she needed to compete with all of the other ladies in attendance for, I dunno, attention? She was fussing about every little thing, and then one attendee made a snide remark about her even being in attendance in the first place, and then…

You never bother pulling your brother back from his tangents; you’re resigned to the reality that literally everything else is more interesting than your personal life.

You don’t blame him because he’s not wrong. Your personal life really is quite bland, and Wei Wuxian is 0% interested in business.

Recently? I guess I’ve been working with the Nie’s, they’ve got some shipping logistics issues, so I’ve been consulting on the side.

Boooring. Jiang Cheng, how do you still work outside of working hours? You need to enjoy yourself! Take advantage of your friendship with Huaisang to go do something interesting once in a while! Go to a party!

That’s your thing, not mine.

Oh, that’s true. You’re trueing.

What?

When was the last time you did anything fun, Chengcheng?

I went to the art gallery, recently.

Oh my god, are you a geriatric? Although, to be fair, Lan Zhan dragged me to this art thing, and paintings are actually kinda pretty dope in person. But to go by yourself? You went by yourself, right?

…Yeah.

Actually lame as hell.

Some of the fault lies with you. When you do do something interesting, you’re liable to lie to your brother about it, or consciously try to redirect the topic. You don’t want the fuss that comes with Wei Wuxian prying uncomfortably deep into your personal life.

You say that you don’t know what your brother’s doing. Your brother can say the same for you.

When you were alive, when did the two of you ever hold an honest conversation?

Wei Wuxian laughed nervously. “I’m working there because of the pay, Jiang Cheng! I didn’t know that the funeral home industry paid so handsomely!”

“Are you serious? If you wanted pay, you know that Dad would be willing to give you any position at Jiang Corp!” Jiang Cheng said, frustrated.

“But it’s not the same,” Wei Wuxian replied defensively. “I don’t know why you’re so against me working there anyways!”

“Have you seen how angry mother is? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to piss her off on purpose!”

“Yeah, but I’ll be out of her hair soon. The home pays room and board, and it’s a fair distance away from the manor.”

“I can’t believe you, Wei Wuxian. I guess you can do whatever you want. It’s not like I can stop you.”

“Why are you so mad?”

“I’m not mad.”

“You sound mad.”

“Forget about it. Just go, ok?”

Wei Wuxian hesitated. “I’m sorry, I guess. But it’s all for the better, I promise.”

If you had told him the truth, would he have stayed?

You wanted him to stay. You didn’t know why he was leaving.

You still don’t know why he left. You still don’t know why he came back – with Lan Wangji in tow, of all people.

And now you’ll never know – because you’re dead.

Wouldn’t it have been nice to confront the brutal truths while you were still alive?

As they say – communication is a two-way street. That’s not to say Wei Wuxian is devoid of fault! I’m only saying that you have to recognize your role in this, too.

He never asked. You never told.

That’s always when things start going to shit.

---------------------

Jiang Yanli woke up to a rare text from her father.

Yanli, do you have time for a call?

It was 8:00 on a Sunday morning. A-Ling was still asleep, as was A-Xuan, gently snoring beside her.

She wondered for a moment whether she should shake A-Xuan awake.

No, let her husband sleep – it had been a long day for him, too. A-Xuan would never admit it, but he had begun to appreciate his brother-in-law’s presence quite a bit; her husband would never gripe on and on about a person he didn’t secretly care for.

She slid gently off the bed, stepping into her slippers and quietly padding downstairs into the living room.

She dialed her father’s number. Father picked up immediately.

“A-Li, I’m so sorry.” She heard her father say tearfully.

“What for?” She asked, confused.

“I – I didn’t mean to neglect you and A-Cheng, I swear. You’re my daughter. I love you. I just wanted you to know that.”

She let out a soft exhale. Oh.

She had come to terms with her family situation quite a long time ago – not to say that it didn’t still bother her, but intellectually, she had it all worked out in a way her little brother hadn’t.

“It’s ok,” she said, trying to keep her voice flat. “I understand.”

Her response seemed to panic her father.

“No, A-Li! I was wrong – I spoke to your mother last night, and she – I didn’t realize, I thought it was obvious – “

“It was obvious, father.” She cut in. “I know you love us.”

Just not as much as you love A-Xian, but that’s ok. Was what she left unsaid.

In a way, she was lucky. She didn’t have to endure having her every waking moment being compared to A-Xian – she was just forgotten, which really only gave her the freedom to take her own path.

A-Cheng had been shackled to A-Xian.

 She had resented her brothers, sometimes, that they were able to so effortlessly secure the attention of both parents, but their omnipresent misery was so obvious that the resentment dissipated as soon as it surfaced.

Sometimes, she resented being forced to play the parent, but seeing the pure love and joy on her brothers’ faces made it all worth it.

“A-Li – I loved A-Cheng.”

The past tense already, she mused.

“I know.” Was what she said aloud.

“I – your mother refuses to let me take part in the funeral planning, but I – A-Cheng’s my son, I need to be a part of it –“

Oh. So that was why he was calling. I wonder why he didn’t call A-Xian.

Maybe father knew that A-Xian wouldn’t be awake at 8AM on a Sunday. Maybe father just didn’t want to disturb the rest of his precious A-Xian. A petty part of her thought. It’s more likely than you’d think!

That same petty part of her wanted to punt this conversation right over to A-Xian.

There was nothing wrong with being selfish once in a while, right?

“I’m sorry, father,” she demurred, “but I don’t have permissions to add people into the group chat. A-Xian and mother are the group administrators.”

“Oh.” She could almost see her father deflate – ordinarily, she might’ve felt guilty for lying to her father, but she truly couldn’t deal with this right now.

A-Xuan would have been furious on her behalf. How dare he! Her husband would have said. Doesn’t he know we have a child?! We have more important things to deal with than being woken up at 8 on a Sunday morning to add your father to a group chat!

“A-Li, I really am sorry.” Her father whispered. “I’ve been a horrible father, haven’t I?”

Jiang Yanli paused, mind running rapidly through various things she could say in response.

“…Yes,” she finally said. “You have.”

With that, she hung up.

“A-Li, is everything OK?” A tired voice asked from behind her, vaulting – falling headfirst, really, next to her on the sofa.

She thought she had been quiet, but it had evidently been enough to wake A-Xuan up.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” she whispered, helping turn A-Xuan right-side up.

“No, no. I was already half awake – were you talking to your father? What did he want?”

“He texted me this morning. The group chat. He wanted to be added.”

That seemed to shock Zixuan awake. “What? He called at 8 in the morning for that? What’s wrong with him?” He asked, indignant. “Doesn’t he know we have a three-and-a-half-year-old child?”

Yanli gave her husband a soft smile. “Well, technically I called him, and I told him I couldn’t add him,” she confided, a little proud of herself. “And to ask A-Xian.”

Zixuan pressed a kiss onto her forehead. “That’s my A-Li,” he said. “Standing up for herself. Well, since I’m up, why don’t I cook us some breakfast?”

“Yes, please. Breakfast sounds fantastic.”

----------------------

Yes. You have.

The words rattled around Jiang Fengmian’s skull as he slumped back into his Herman Miller.

Yes. You have.

His sweet A-Li, with never a harsh word on her tongue.

Yes. You have.

I don’t want your sorry’s, Jiang Fengmian, it’s too late for that.

Jiang Cheng was dead.

It’s too late for that.

Had A-Xian thought the same?

If he was being honest with himself, he had been too scared to call A-Xian. He didn’t know if he would be able to handle A-Xian’s rejection, of all things.

Would you have been able to handle A-Cheng’s? A tiny voice, sounding like Yu Ziyuan, piped up. Since you’re glad he’s dead?

That was completely and wholly untrue. A-Cheng was his son. He wasn’t glad that A-Cheng was dead.

Haha, fuck, Jiang Cheng always said, but I never –

What had Jiang Cheng always said to A-Xian? What had he said?!

You don’t love him. Yu Ziyuan’s tiny voice supplied. And you’ll never love him because he reminds you of me!

He buried his head in his arms, trying desperately to keep that voice out of his head.

You only love Wei Wuxian! Your children with me are secondary! You see my shadow in them, and you hate it. None of them are Cangse Sanren. None of them are Wei Wuxian!

No, it wasn’t true! It wasn’t!

Yes. It is. That was A-Li’s voice this time. You were a terrible father.

He needed to call A-Xian.

He didn’t want to call A-Xian.

It’s early in the morning, he might not even be awake.

Then why did you text A-Li so early? Can’t you text A-Xian?

He could text A-Xian.

------------------

Wei Wuxian woke up from a fitful sleep, still bleary. The space next to him was empty – Lan Zhan was already up, so it must be past 8.

He reached out blindly for his phone – what time was it?

The bright screen glared at him – 10 AM.

And a text from Uncle Jiang.

Call me when you have time, I have…

He placed the phone back down and snuggled deep into the covers. Later. He’d deal with that later.

Right now, he wanted to sleep.

Chapter Text

The first thing Yu Ziyuan saw when she woke up that morning was the bottle of pills she had taken from Jiang Cheng’s room sitting enticing on her bedside table. She reached out for them with an uncharacteristic gentleness, cradling them in her hands, letting the rattle of the little white pills soothe her nerves. Somewhere, there was an urge to down the whole bottle, but that was quickly clamped down on.

She didn’t need to make another decision she would regret.

She had fallen in love with a soft man – someone, she thought, who could make her happy. A man who wasn’t afraid to show his feelings. A man who wasn’t both arrogant and loud, or rigid and cold. A man who was capable of loving in ways that most men were not.

But that man had never been in love with her.

When she married Jiang Fengmian, she had thought that the passage of time would dull his devotion to Cangse Sanren, that their shared life together would result in the blossoming of a true companionship, a commitment to a future for them and their children.

For a while it had been like a dream. When she gave birth to A-Li, it had felt like they were truly becoming a family; Fengmian the doting father to an adorable daughter, an almost sickly-sweet smile on his face whenever she caught his eye. A-Cheng had only added to that warmth – two parents, two children, a loving mother and a caring husband. It was everything she had ever wanted.

Then Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze died.

Then Jiang Fengmian disappeared into his office, obsessing over something, and she had no clue what it was. A-Li clung to her, forlorn, and A-Cheng threw fits as his father refused to play with him.

Then Jiang Fengmian brought him home.

Then it all fell apart.

--------------------

Jiang Fengmian sat alone in his home office, fiddling with his phone anxiously as he waited for A-Xian to reply.

Jiang Fengmian wasn’t blind enough to fail to recognize that he had once loved Cangse Sanren quite deeply. But then was then. Once Cangse Sanren was out of his reach, he had no illusions of ever winning her back.

That wasn’t to say he wasn’t quite thoroughly heartbroken. He had doubted that he would ever find love again, quite honestly. But in those moments, he had found himself in the constant company of one Yu Ziyuan.

Initially, he had looked upon her quite coldly – rigid and tempestuous, that woman, he had thought. Quick to anger and even quicker to argue. But over time, he began to love that fiery temper. That assertive nature. Those vibrant, sharp eyes softening as they looked towards him.

When he married Yu Ziyuan, it had seemed like a dream. How had such a headstrong and independent woman fallen for him, of all people? He had vowed, then and there, that he would do everything to live up to her expectations.

When A-Li was born, he fell for Ziyuan even harder. Now he saw a new side of her – soft, loving, motherly – unable to part from their perfect daughter for even a moment – it had felt like they were a family. A-Cheng added a little chaos, to be sure, but who wouldn’t love seeing their energetic son running around, ready to win and dominate just like his mother? It had been horribly cute, seeing A-Cheng toddle with all the swagger of a 2-year-old and imagining what Ziyuan would’ve been like at that age. It was everything he had ever wanted.

Then Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze died.

Then he heard that they had left behind a son, and that son was nowhere to be found.

He couldn’t leave the child of his dear friends behind when he had the resources to keep him safe. So he searched, day in and day out, every waking moment dedicated to searching for this poor lost child.

When he finally found the boy, scared and emaciated in the alleyways, cowering in the presence of a particularly vicious dog, he had felt a profound relief. He hadn’t failed his friends. He would raise their son as his own.

He had brought Wei Ying home, thinking that he would be one more addition to their happy family.

But then it all fell apart.

-----------------------

“Wei Ying. Breakfast.”

Lan Zhan’s dulcet tones broke through his half-awake haze as he groaned and kicked off his covers.

“Mmhm, Lan Zhan, what time is it?” he asked groggily. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Lunch.” Lan Zhan replied. “12:27.”

“Mphm?!” It was that late already? He scrambled to get up, Lan Zhan catching him as he nearly tumbled off the bed. “Weren’t we supposed to meet A-Jie at 1:00?”

Over the group chat last night, they had decided to reconvene at Jiang Cheng’s apartment to sort through his belongings and discuss funeral arrangements. He grabbed a pair of pants out of the dresser, clumsily pulling them on.

He couldn’t be late for that. Madame Yu wouldn’t forgive him. Hell, he wouldn’t forgive him.

“Delayed. Jiang Yanli asked to meet at 3:00 PM. I did not wake you.” Lan Zhan explained. “But you must eat before we leave. Skipping breakfast is unhealthy.”

It was a sort of agreement that the two of them had come to, the fact that he was incapable of waking in time for any sort of real breakfast on Sundays. It was a compromise – just eat something once you get up, please. A proper meal.  

Jiang Cheng used to tell him the same thing.

You’re going to feel even worse if you don’t eat, I guarantee it. Take an Aspirin if your hangover’s really that bad. Come on, stop being an ass and just eat, for fuck’s sake!

Not that Jiang Cheng was one to follow his own advice, with how many meals he skipped on the regular.

I’ve got protein bars, Wei Wuxian. I’m eating. Now can you leave me alone? I’ve got work to do.

With how annoyed his brother got, he had stopped pestering Jiang Cheng about eating pretty early on.

That’s what siblings do!

Had he been wrong?

After all, Jiang Cheng never stopped nagging.

“Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan inquired, sounding worried.

Ah, he had spaced out, hadn’t he, pants still half pulled up his legs. “I’m awake, I promise! Ah, whatever, I’ll put on my pants later then. Lan Zhan, what did you make?”

He stepped out of his pants, letting them pool on the floor. Lan Zhan wrinkled his nose at him and picked them up before folding them neatly and placing them on the bed next to his beloved.

“Oh, sorry, sorry.” He said, placing a light kiss on Lan Zhan’s cheek. “Let’s eat?”

“Mm.” said Lan Zhan, scooping him into a princess carry, transporting him downstairs as he giggled and kicked lightly.

The cellphone was left behind, forgotten.

-----------------------

That was another thing that bothered you, wasn’t it? That your brother so effortlessly attracted the attention of your father, only to be entirely unfazed by it, quickly dismissing your grumbles of favouritism with a yeah, Jiang Cheng, but you’re his son, as if you didn’t know how much being his son was actually worth.

What’s worse is that we both know why he’s like that.

Your brother was terrified – is still terrified – of the part he played and continues to play in tearing your parents apart, in seeing you be sidelined, of the future where you and Jiang Yanli both realize that he’s the poison in our family and finally choose to cut him out.

For all that he calls you rigid and stubborn, I’d say with a confidence that Wei Wuxian is the one who never changes.

How can he still fail to see how much you and your sister value him? Although to be quite fair, you really aren’t the best at expressing affection, and Jiang Yanli is nice to almost everyone, though it seems he’s slowly starting to realize that your incessant nagging was an expression of your pure, unadulterated affection.

In the same vein, it’s also a little upsetting to see how easily Wei Wuxian complies with whatever Lan Wangji asks of him, isn’t it? How much more influence the boyfriend has on your brother?

When you’re feeling particularly vindictive, you see that as being in direct opposition of what he should be doing.

If he regretted breaking up my family so badly, why the fuck was he so eager to keep on provoking A-Niang’s temper, letting A-Die defend him, ignoring my advice and running to who the fuck knows where? Why doesn’t he stay and fix things?

What was he to fix, exactly? And how was he to fix it? You and I both know your thoughts were a meaningless distraction from the reality that you were jealous that your brother could stay so himself through all the conflict, that it hurt to see him leave the family – you – behind.

Ah, haha! With how little reaction my words have been getting from you lately, Jiang Cheng, I was beginning to think you were tuning me out! I’m glad to see you’re still here with me, threats of violence notwithstanding.

While I’ve got your attention – since our last game fell through so unceremoniously, why don’t we have a little bet?

When do you think your brother will realize that he needs to call his Uncle?

Why are you so against playing games, oh both of us know when he’s going to figure it out, you sourpuss. But I suppose you’re not wrong.

Anyways, all of that was just to say that your brother forgets to respond to texts from your father on the regular, which makes it all the funnier that your father’s waiting so anxiously for a response from someone who’s known to reply days later to his texts.

Incidentally, you always reply immediately. Too bad the texts are always about Wei Wuxian or Jiang Yanli.

While we wait for Wei Wuxian to call back, do you want me to tell you a story?

No, you’re tired of my stories?

This one’s short, I promise… just a few words. I asked out of politesse, honestly, I was going to tell you regardless.

You see, your brother is very, very forgetful when it comes to day-to-day mundanities. When you lived together, either at home or in the dorms, you felt like a bit of a babysitter, constantly reminding him if you finish the milk go buy a new carton PLEASE, or Mother’s finished a major case so she’ll be home early, please keep your shirt on, or your keys! Holy shit, I’m not driving two hours just to drop off your keys again, fuck.

There’s a reason you did your brother’s laundry for a while in college. If you saw him ruin another nice sweater in the wash again, you might’ve died from a rage-induced aneurysm.

You lament your brother’s poor memory. More importantly, you sometimes wonder if he’s just choosing to forget the inconvenient truths.

Jiang Cheng, I don’t remember that. Did Madame Yu really say that to me?

No, that can’t be true. Did she really take away my dinner? I don’t remember that at all.

Did Uncle Jiang really say that I’m more important? Jiang Cheng, you must be misremembering! He’d never say something like that to his own son!

Ask yourself this – wouldn’t you be happier if you could forget?

Of course, that’s not you. You wouldn’t dare forget even the tiniest details.

And that’s your choice.

-----------------------

Breakfast consumed and dishes washed, it was already 2:00pm by the time Wei Wuxian headed back upstairs to put on some pants, grabbing his phone while he was at it to check up on any texts he had missed over breakfast.

Ah. He had completely forgotten that Uncle Jiang had texted him.

Unlocking his phone, he tapped on the notification.

Call me when you have time, I have a few things I’d like to discuss with you, if that’s alright.

Sent at 8:30 this morning. Well, that wasn’t too bad – it was still within the day.

Without thinking, he tapped on Uncle Jiang’s icon and called him back.

“A-Xian! Thank you for calling,” Uncle Jiang said, the first ring not even complete before he picked up. “I was wondering if you could add me to the group chat?”

-----------------------

Jiang Fengmian, during the hours he waited for A-Xian to call back, had run through conversation thread after conversation thread, wondering just how he was going to approach the issue.

Did I really treat you so differently than I did Jiang Cheng? Do you love me for that? Do you resent me for that?

What did you mean that A-Cheng had said?

Those were questions he was definitely not going to ask. He didn’t think he wanted to hear the answer.

But could he ask to join the group chat, just like that? He was A-Cheng’s father, it wasn’t like he needed to defend his inclusion – it should’ve been natural – but it had been even more natural, the way he had been excluded.

Why?

You know why.

Didn’t matter. What was important was that he was asking now.

When he felt the phone in his hand vibrate, first few notes of the flute starting to sound, he thought his heart was going to leap out of his chest.

“A-Xian! Thank you for calling. I was wondering if you could add me to the group chat?”

There was a brief silence on the other end.

“Why?” A-Xian asked, confused. “You want to be added to the group chat? Um, you’d have to check with Madame Yu, I don’t really want to upset her…” A-Xian said, trailing off.

His throat tightened. “Why? A-Xian, are you truly asking me why?” Him too?

It hurt. Goodness, it hurt so much.

“No, Uncle Jiang, I didn’t mean it like that! I mean, it’s just… you know…”

“No. No, I don’t think I do know.” he replied, melancholy.  “A-Xian, have I truly been so terrible a father that my own children think that I wouldn’t want to – I don’t want to – A-Cheng’s dead, A-Xian, of course I need to be there. He’s my son!”

“… Yeah, I know.” A-Xian said helplessly. “I know, I just don’t want to make Madame Yu mad, I guess.”

A-Xian’s dodging the issue.

“She told me to speak to you. I – A-Xian, please tell me the truth. Why is it that all of you believe that I would be uninterested in planning my own son’s funeral?”

There was another staticky silence, the only indication that A-Xian hadn’t hung up being the sound of breathing.

“Jiang-shushu, I – the truth?”

He didn’t need to hear it. Didn’t want to hear it, really.

“Yes. Please.”

A third pause – presumably A-Xian gathering his thoughts.

“I – I can’t speak for Madame Yu or A-jie, really, I – it’s just – Jiang Cheng was always waiting for you to look at him. But you didn’t really seem to care? I mean, it was hard to tell, that’s all, I’m sure you still loved him! If you want to be added to the group chat, I’ll add you, ok? Look, I’ve got to go, Uncle Jiang. I don’t mean to cut the call short. Call me later, or I’ll call back later. Sorry, shushu. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

This time, the silence was deafening.

…

It was just as well that A-Xian hung up.

He didn’t need A-Xian to speak for Ziyuan or A-Li; he had already heard it straight from them.

When did you ever acknowledge Jiang Cheng?! When have you ever bothered to spare my A-Cheng a glance?!

Yes. You were a horrible father.

He thought that he had been sorry that he hadn’t made it more clear that he loved his wife, his son, his daughter.

You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.

Oh, he thought numbly. Could it be?

I still love her.

---------------------

You were his son. He acknowledged you as such. Yu Ziyuan is his wife. He acknowledges that, too. Jiang Yanli is his daughter. Another fact.

Wei Wuxian is Cangse Sanren’s child. Jiang Fengmian is more acutely aware of this reality than anyone, barring your mother.

Everyone but your father understood that if it weren’t for Wei Wuxian, he’d be pouring equal amounts of care and attention on you, your sister, and your mother.

Everyone but your father understood that this was because Wei Wuxian reminded him of Cangse Sanren.

Everyone but your father knew that Jiang Fengmian would never hold anyone as dear as he held Cangse Sanren, as long as Cangse Sanren was still within his reach.

Wei Wuxian is very much within his reach.

It wasn’t that your father didn’t love you.

Your father thought he loved you.

It was just overshadowed by the one he loved more than anyone else.

There’s a ding as Wei Wuxian adds him to the group chat – he doesn’t bother looking at his phone, staring blankly into space instead.

Your father mourns your death – as we’ve established, the death of your child is never a happy occasion.

But it’s too late for regrets.

…

Must be nice to feel vindicated. Or maybe it doesn’t feel nice.

Betting on your own loss doesn’t turn a loss into a win, especially when these were the stakes.

---------------------

Jiang Yanli glanced at her phone, hearing the ding of a new notification.

Jiang Fengmian has been added to the group. Say hello!

“He really added father, huh.”

“Wei Wuxian added your father to the group chat?” Zixuan looked up at her from his position on the floor, serving as A-Ling’s climbing ramp.

“Mhm.”

“Has he said anything yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“For how eager he seemed to be, I’d expect that – A-Ling, ow! Don’t kick – he’d have at least something prepared, or something he wanted to say.”

“Sorry baba… hurt?” A-Ling asked, sliding off of Zixuan’s back and gently patting his father on his head.

“I’m ok, A-Ling. Be more careful next time, alright? When you kick someone here, in the ribs, it really, really hurts. But baba’s super strong, so he’s ok.”

“What about mama?”

“Mama would be super-duper hurt, which is why we don’t climb and kick mama.”

A-Ling nodded sagely. “Not kick mama. What about jiujiu?”

“…”

Before either of them had the chance to answer the question, A-Ling giggled “Jiujiu super strong too! A-Ling climb jiujiu aaaaallll the time.”

She glanced pleadingly at Zixuan, who nodded.

“Remember,” Zixuan said gently. “Jiujiu’s dead.”

“Mhm?”

“So you can’t climb jiujiu anymore.”

A-Ling frowned. “Jiujiu not strong?”

“Jiujiu’s body doesn’t work anymore, so you can’t climb it.” Zixuan attempted to explain.

A-Ling stared back blankly. “Doesn’t work?”

“Doesn’t work.” Zixuan confirmed.

“Is broke?”

“No, it’s a little different from being broken. Broken means – well, I suppose not working is a type of being broken, but…”

“But jiujiu’s strong. A-Ling knows.” The child said, simultaneously confused and confident. “Why’s mama crying?”

Zixuan looked up at her in alarm as she quickly swiped at her eyes.

“Mama’s sad,” she said, voice wobbly. “Because jiujiu’s dead. Jiujiu had an accident, and now his body won’t move ever again, and that makes mama very sad. Because I miss your jiujiu.”

A-Ling began to tear up at the sight of his mother crying. “But jiujiu’s coming to play?” he questioned, sniffling. “Why miss jiujiu?”

She took a deep breath, trying to recompose herself, but her voice still wouldn’t steady.

“A-Ling, jiujiu can’t come anymore because he’s dead. He can’t walk anymore, he can’t talk anymore, he can’t play anymore, he’s not alive anymore –“

She gasped at a sudden striking pain in her chest, A-Ling clambering over to her in panic as she doubled over.

“Didn’t kick mama! Mama ok?”

“A-Li, don’t force yourself, please…”

“No, I’m alright, I’m alright,” she said, straightening slowly as the pain subsided, giving them a weak smile. “I’m alright.”

Her son climbed onto the sofa next to her, giving her a great big hug. She snuggled her chin onto the top of his head, hugging him right back.

“Love mama.” A-Ling said wetly.

“Mama loves A-Ling too,” she replied.

She knew she should address Jiang Cheng’s death in more detail. A-Ling needed to understand.

But she couldn’t. Not now. Later. Once the funeral date was set, they’d sit down and have a nice, long talk.

------------------------

It’s ok to cry, Jiang Cheng.

Your father. Your sister. Your nephew.

There’s a lot to cry about.

------------------------

Wei Wuxian wondered for half a second whether he should clue Uncle Jiang in on the meeting happening at 3:00 before abandoning that line of thought.

It would be painfully awkward to have Madame Yu and Uncle Jiang in the same room, especially after he had opened his big stupid mouth and told Uncle Jiang “the truth”. 

He shouldn’t have called. He shouldn’t have said anything.

Hell, he wasn’t sure he should’ve added Uncle Jiang to the group chat. He pressed the heel of his palms to his temples.

Why now, of all times, to reflect on being a father?

Why now, of all times, to reflect on being a brother?

“Fuck.” He muttered. “What the fuck.”

He stared warily at his phone, waiting for Uncle Jiang to send the first message to the group chat. He had been so eager to join – he’d definitely have something he wanted to say.

Ten seconds passed.

Twenty.

Thirty.

A minute.

Two minutes.

Nothing.

---------------------

Jiang Fengmian has been added to the group. Say hello!

Her lips twisted in contempt. The bastard had actually did it.

He had asked Wei Wuxian to add him to the group chat.

So what did he have to say for himself?

She threw her phone to the side, resolving to not check any notifications from the group chat until at least after the meeting with A-Li and that boy at 3:00.

God, Wei Wuxian had better not have told Jiang Fengmian about the meeting. If he did – what could she do? Shut Fengmian out of the discussion? Leave?

No, she’d have to bear it.

…

…

…

But the phone stayed silent.

--------------------

The meeting at three is not altogether eventful.

Your mother, sister, sister-in-law, and brother meet at your apartment. Wei Wuxian’s early, for once in his life. But of course. Wei Wuxian’s early is still a few minutes later than Madame Yu and your jie.

They sit in your living room. The stench doesn’t leave that quickly, but no one brings up moving to a more amenable meeting area.

Autopsy’s not done. No matter how powerful your family is, there’s no power than can compel a unionized employee in to work overtime on the weekend if they don’t want to.

Your bank accounts are all closed and dealt with – there’s a field your family holds some more sway in.

Wei Wuxian relays that your funeral will need to be closed casket. There really isn’t any way to make you presentable, unfortunately. Your mother frowns, but stays silent. She knows there’s no meaning in arguing.

For now, they’re not selling your apartment and will be leaving your stuff as is. There’s no rush to clean your place out since you own it, and nobody seems to have the heart to dig through your belongings.

They’ll leave the final funeral arrangements up to Madame Yu. Your sister is grateful, yet guilty, that she won’t be taking a more active role. Your brother offered his services, which your mother ignored. That’s a good indication that she might actually work with your brother.

The discussions don’t last for very long. There isn’t much to discuss.

The four of them scatter by half-past four.

There’s still no message from Jiang Fengmian.

-------------------

The clock ticks as the day of the funeral arrives.

Chapter Text

Your father did end up sending a few texts into the group chat:

1. Addendums to the guest list – a number of CEOs had indicated to him that they would like the opportunity to provide a eulogy or to speak, so he passed along the message.
2. A copy of the internal communique and official statement for review before he sent it out to the company and for public release.

After his realization, he had spent quite some time trying to remember what he knew about you. He realized he knew very little. He didn’t know your favourite foods. He didn’t have any fun anecdotes or memories to share. He couldn’t remember the last time the two of you hung out as father and son. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw you smile at him.

Who is Jiang Cheng?

My son, he would have replied without hesitation. A good kid.

A good kid?

Wei Wuxian is quite the little genius! He’s a free-thinker, that one, and talented with his hands too. You’ll definitely want to keep an eye on him – who knows what he’ll do in the future?

A good kid.

Jiang Cheng was a good son.

Everything you knew about your relationship with your father, he was coming to realize for himself.

…

Someone who knows so little about the deceased really doesn’t have a place in the planning of their funeral, do they?

---------------------

Somewhere along the line, while everyone was preparing for your funeral, the autopsy results arrived. Your family are both relieved and heartbroken to receive the confirmation – your death was accidental.

There had been some debate – there was some blunt force trauma to the head, which could have indicated you being knocked out before being stabbed in the leg, but the police report’s context of the collapsed shelves kept the coroner from over speculating.

Your mother entertained a little theory that your father hired a professional hitman to murder you and dress it up as an accident. Surely, a professional would find it easy to create a scene like this one.

She doesn’t share this theory with anyone, cognizant of the fact that it could make her sound like an insane lady. Mostly, she doesn’t think that Jiang Fengmian would be capable of anything like that. No matter what she thinks of the man, he’s not a murderer.

Honestly, it wasn’t as if the theory made her feel any better. Even if you were murdered, even if someone died as compensation for your death, that won’t bring you back to life.

If it did though, I wouldn’t count on your mother ruling murder out.

----------------------

Your family works quickly. There’ve been a few hiccups – your mother was opposed to burying your ashes in the Jiang family grave, wanting to bury you instead with the Yu’s. In fact, your mother is contemplating not being buried beside her husband herself.

Your father doesn’t protest, his shoulders sagged and his head slumped in defeat at your mother’s cold request.

You were almost feeling sympathetic in that moment. You are a good, filial son after all. You don’t want to see your father look so devastated.

But then you remembered all the times your father left you in that same sort of despair, and you quickly got over it.

Just as well your siblings weren’t there for that conversation. It would’ve been very uncomfortable for everyone.

It’s a little funny, isn’t it? Your brother will likely be buried with the Lan’s, and your sister with the Jin’s. Had you gotten married, you and your spouse should have been buried with the rest of the Jiang family.

You didn’t even want to be buried? Just scatter your ashes into the sea?

How economical of you! Although I suspect this is just your way of trying to avoid the “where I’m going to be buried” conflict.

No? You just like the concept, hm. Free in death?

Yeah, free in death. Although I suppose you’re currently a little tied down, but I promise freedom is just around the corner.

Just one more week to the funeral.

----------------------

To: AllStaff

Subject: We mourn the loss of a valued employee

Hello everyone,

It is with great sorrow I announce that my son, Jiang Cheng, has passed away in a tragic accident. He was an important part of the Jiang Corporation family, always working where he was needed most. He was a key leader for many departments and beloved by his co-workers and friends at the company.

I hope you will respect the privacy of our family as we work through this loss. Any media inquiries are to be directed to [email protected].

The funeral details are included in the attachment of this email.

Kind regards,

Jiang Fengmian

…

For those affected by this loss, please reach out through our Employee Assistance Program for free counselling and other support & resources.

----------------------

Your sister sits your nephew down for a talk again, trying to impress upon him the concept of you being dead.

Jiujiu’s funeral is this weekend. That’s where we say a forever goodbye to jiujiu.

Jiujiu’s leaving?

No, jiujiu’s dead. His body doesn’t work anymore, and so we have to say byebye to the body. All of jiujiu’s friends and family are going to be there to say byebye too.

Because jiujiu’s dead?

Yes, A-Ling. Because jiujiu’s dead. People will be very sad. They will be crying, and maybe hugging each other.

Mmm. Ok. Say byebye this weekend, and give hug.

Your nephew is surprisingly calm about this, which is why your sister feels that A-Ling doesn’t really get it.

She outlines a plan to her husband. As the sister, it falls on her to greet guests as they enter the hall. If A-Ling doesn’t cooperate day of, please wait outside and take care of him instead.  

Jin Zixuan nods.

It’s just that simple.

----------------------

I’m sorry, I’m a little out of energy here. Feel free to drag us wherever you want to go. There’s only a few days before the funeral, if there’s anything you want to check up on?

Ah, don’t worry about me. It’s just how things go. I need to recharge before the big event!

You’re fine staying in your apartment? Well, suit yourself I suppose.

…

Not curious about what your brother’s up to this time?

Not even about Nie Huaisang?

Ah, rather than not caring, you’ve got the general gist of the matter. You’re just waiting for the funeral now, aren’t you.

You were always smart. Think you have me figured out?

Haha, exactly! Time flows differently when you’re not bound to carbon, I did say something like that. Then let’s go. Let’s go to your funeral.

…

…….

…………..

----------------------

The Venue

Wei Wuxian stood at the entrance next to his sister, greeting guests as they trickled into the building.

My condolences.

Sorry for your loss.

He was too young. I’m sorry.

He nodded, providing a mechanical thank you for coming to each of the guests. He didn’t even know most of them. He doubted Jiang Cheng knew any of them.

Some, he supposed, were Jiang Cheng’s former co-workers; he had overheard something about Jiang Cheng being the best boss they had ever had, and why did it have to be him and not old man Yao or something. A young man with red-rimmed eyes, tearfully saying that I thought he was just sick, I can’t believe Jiang Cheng’s dead, I can’t imagine how you guys are feeling right now, JC was such a great guy, you know?

He nodded robotically, handing the man a packet of complementary tissues.

Why is there no-one I recognize?

Then he caught eye of Nie Huaisang.

-----------------------

Nie Huaisang plodded up to the entranceway of the hall. He had never, not even in the slightest, imagined that he would be attending Jiang Cheng’s funeral.

What the fuck.

It had been obvious to him that Jiang Cheng was depressed and anxious as hell all throughout college – even Da-ge goes to therapy, Jiang Cheng, it’s not weakness, ok? Fine, I promise I won’t tell Wei Wuxian, alright? So will you go? – he spent a fair amount of effort convincing Jiang Cheng that no, therapy was not bullshit for weaklings and yes, therapy worked. Even when Jiang Cheng wanted to give up after the first course of medication hadn’t worked, he had pushed – Xuanyu had to go through multiple scripts too! Not everything works first try.

Jiang Cheng had been so happy when his 3^rd prescription started working for him. He had thought things were finally looking up for his friend.

Things were supposed to be looking up for his friend.

What the fuck???

If Da-ge didn’t receive a text from him at least once a day, he would find a very big and very angry man waiting for him in his living room by the time he got home from his parties. It was the same the other way around – if Da-ge didn’t reply to his text within 3 hours of his last meeting being over, you could bet your ass that he was going to figure out where Da-ge was and shiv him for not replying.

Or, as it usually would be, nurse a sick and exhausted Da-ge back to some semblance of health.  

That was the point, wasn’t it? Of being brothers? You could push and push and push the other to the point of breaking, but at the end of the day, you loved each other and you cared for each other.

You’d do anything for each other.

So why the fuck was Jiang Cheng dead?

His thoughts were interrupted by Wei Wuxian’s somber greeting.

“Hey, Huaisang. Glad you could make it.”

He gave a small smile. “Of course I’d come. My condolences, Wei-xiong, Yanli-jie. I can’t believe – I’m sorry. I have something I’d like you to burn for him afterwards, if that’s alright.” He said, handing over a bag full of folded joss paper.

Wei Wuxian nodded vigorously, accepting the bag. “Of course, man. Anything. Hey, um, the other day –“

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have accused you out of nowhere, Wei-xiong.” He said, feigning regret. He did slightly regret lashing out; Wei-xiong had to have been mourning too. But what he had said was the truth and he didn’t regret that one bit.

“No, no. I thought about it, and you were right. I – fuck, it’s too late now, but. Thanks. I think… it was good for me to hear that. Otherwise,” Wei Wuxian laughed hollowly. “I might’ve ended up like Uncle Jiang.”

“He’s figured it out?”

“Yeah.”

And all it took was his son’s death, a voice in his heart sneered. What a piece of shit.

It wouldn’t help anyone anymore.

“Well, I’m glad I was of help, Wei-xiong. And Yanli-jie, you’re holding up ok? I know some good spas around here, I could book you in for one, just let me know your availability.”

Jiang Yanli looked surprised by the offer. “Thank you, Huaisang. That’s very thoughtful of you. I may just take you up on the offer, if you don’t mind.”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it.” He replied. “But it looks like I’m holding up the line, so I’ll head in first. But if you ever need anything, Wei-xiong, Yanli-jie – Jiang Cheng’s family is my family too. I’ll help however I can.”

---------------------

Sibling relationships are hard to define. Huaisang can be counted among the lucky, to have such a steadfast relationship with his brother. Or maybe it could be counted as overprotective. Who knows?

Anyways, most people aren’t so lucky. In fact, you could be counted as being among the lucky when compared to some other sibling relationships.

Just look at Jin Zixuan and Jin Guangyao. That’s one awkward sibling relationship right there. Jin Guangyao and his ex-wife, too. Another weird sibling relationship.

True, you can’t blame them. Being Jin Guangshan’s child really messes with your perspective of sibling relationships. Throw in Mo Xuanyu, and you really start getting why Madame Jin wasn’t the least bit perturbed at Jin Guangshan’s death.

But it’s also true, isn’t it, that there are plenty of real-life examples of siblings not getting along, of siblings resenting one another, siblings fighting over attention or inheritances, estranged siblings who will never speak to one another ever again.

At least the three of you aren’t like that. All things considered, you guys are pretty close.

Not as close as the Nie siblings, maybe, but they could be considered an anomaly.

Speaking of the Jin’s, it looks like Jin Zixuan and Jin Ling still haven’t made it in. Why don’t we go take a look at what’s going on there as your siblings usher in the remainder of the guests?

---------------------

Venue – Parking Lot

It had been hard explaining what today meant to Jin Ling. Jin Ling still hadn’t fully grasped the concept of ‘dead’, and they were already at the wake.

A-Li was at the front, greeting the guests. He was back in the car, bouncing A-Ling on his thigh to try and soothe the bawling.

“Whysn’t jiujiu here?” A-Ling wailed, not for the first time. “Thought we would see jiujiu! You said!”

“A-Ling, jiujiu’s body doesn’t work anymore, remember?” Jin Zixuan attempted to explain for what seemed like the millionth time. “Jiujiu is dead.”

“No! No, you said! This is jiujiu’s fue – fune-ral! It’s jiujiu’s, so jiujius here!” A-Ling screeched, attempting to wriggle out of Jin Zixuan’s grasp. “Where’s jiujiu?!”

“Remember what I said about funerals, A-Ling? That’s when we say goodbye to people whose bodies don’t work anymore. To celebrate their life.” Jin Zixuan said, struggling to keep A-Ling in his lap. “We’re here to say bye-bye to jiujiu.”

Now that they were here, it was probably finally starting to dawn on A-Ling that they really wouldn’t be seeing jiujiu again.

“NO! Can’t! Jiujiu hasn’t said hello to Lingling yet! Can’t say bye-bye!”

“Jiujiu’s body doesn’t work anymore, so he can’t say hello.” He said patiently

“Why?! Why jiujiu can’t say hello?!” A-Ling gasped. “Jiujiu doesn’t wanna see Lingling?”

“Jiujiu can’t see Lingling anymore. I’m sure he wants to, but he can’t.”

“Why?!” A-Ling demanded. “Why can’t see Lingling?”

He could feel his hands trembling as he consciously loosened his grip on A-Ling, trying not to grab him too hard.

“He’s dead.”

“What’s dead?”

“Dead means his body doesn’t work anymore. He can’t speak, he can’t see, he can’t say hello or bye-bye. Even if he really really wants to, jiujiu can’t talk to us anymore. He can’t hug you anymore. A-Ling, I’m sorry.”

Big, fat tears were starting drip from A-Ling’s face. “Why?” he demanded tearily. “Why can’t say hello or bye-bye? Why’s dead?”

Jin Zixuan could feel his throat beginning to tighten up.

Damn.

He could only shake his head.

“No! No no no no no!!! NO! Wanna see Jiujiu! See Jiujiu!!!! NO!” A-Ling had begun to throw punches and kicks, trying his best to push away from his dad, forcing him to tighten his grip again. “NO!!! WHERE MOMMY?! MAMA!!! SEE JIUJIU!!!” A-Ling scratched at his face. “JIUJIU!!!”

He pulled A-Ling into a bear hug, smothering the child against his chest. A-Ling’s face was wet with snot and tears, smearing all over his pristine white shirt. Not that he cared. He couldn’t care less, honestly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’m sorry.”

His face felt wet.

He blamed it on seeing A-Ling so miserable.

“Nooooo,” A-Ling whined, muffled into his shirt. “Noooo… jiujiu…”

He ran his fingers through A-Ling’s hair, patting the child’s back as he hiccupped through tears.

Suddenly, A-Ling stiffened.

“Is mama going to die too?” A-Ling asked quietly, staring up at him with an indescribable look of fear on his face. “Is mama going to byebye too?”

“Oh no no no, A-Ling, mama’s ok. Mama’s ok.” Jin Zixuan hurriedly replied, still stroking A-Ling’s back.

The websites had said something about telling kids about the inevitability of death, he recalled dimly, but this certainly didn’t seem to be a good time to get into it.

“Then just jiujiu?” the child inquired tentatively.

“Yes, just jiujiu.” He confirmed.

A-Ling sniffled. “Why?”

He knew why, but he didn’t want to give the child nightmares. ‘I don’t know’ would only open the question up to more speculation.

Time to change the subject.

“A-Ling, do you want to go inside? Inside is the funeral, where everyone is saying byebye to jiujiu. There will be a lot of talking, and a lot of people.”

A-Ling shook his head. “Wanna say byebye. Don’t wanna people.” A-Ling mumbled, stuffing his face into his chest.

“We can say byebye from here, too,” he offered. “Do you want to do that?”

A-Ling nodded into his chest.

“Ok. Do you want baba to keep hugging you?”

Another nod.

“Ok.”

He sat in the car, gently cradling A-Ling as the toddler slowly fell asleep, tired from the outburst.

The sun was high in the sky. It was, by all measures, a beautiful day.

He had never wished for A-Ling to be at the park with Jiang Cheng more than he did today.

----------------------

Despite the good weather, the businessmen in town would rather be at your funeral than playing a game of golf – with how close the Jiang are to the Nie, Jin, Lan and Wen, and the fact that only the Jiang are going to be truly mourning, this is a great time to rub elbows with the big boys.

There’s a couple of bad actors trying to sneak their way in, only to meet the hostile glare of Yu Ziyuan’s personal assistants, who are keeping close watch on the attendees.

Your mother’s nowhere near the entrance. She didn’t want to be doing any greeting. She knows it won’t go well.

She’s at the back coordinating today’s speakers, making sure her husband has his script in hand.

That’s right – she wrote out a script for Jiang Fengmian. The crowd will be expecting the CEO of Jiang Corp to speak in welcome, after all, and she won’t let their spat ruin the image of the family.

Your father didn’t argue when she sent him the script.

He’s got the whole thing memorized, and I doubt he would dare to ad-lib anything.

After him is a weird singing bit, and then the speeches. Wei Wuxian’s making sure the sound system is working, checking back in with Madame Yu to make sure everything’s in place.

This is probably the first and only time they’ll ever work as a team.

Right? Really wish they could’ve done it while you were alive.

In a few minutes, the doors are going to close and the funeral will begin.

Any last things you want to wrap up?

…

Then let’s get going.

------------------------

“I would like to welcome everyone to this celebration of the life of my son, Jiang Cheng. I was blessed to be his father – nobody could have asked for a more loving, hardworking son. More than anyone else, he was dedicated to the success of the company and to the happiness of our family.

Let me express our family’s gratitude to all who are present today. Seeing everyone who has been touched by Jiang Cheng’s life, knowing how valuable his presence was to the people here today – we realize what an impact his life and death have made.

I’m grateful that we have those who will share stories of my son today. Today, we will laugh and cry together, and give our honours to the life Jiang Cheng has led. Let us pause as we spend a few moments remembering Jiang Cheng’s life.”

A video plays on the big screen, an edited collection of photos of you and your family with some kitschy music playing in the background, obviously chosen by Wei Wuxian.

There’s you and your siblings at a picnic, you handing a sandwich over to your sister. A picture of the three of you on a boat. You and your mother both dressed to the nines, probably for some formal charity event.

Each photo lingers for a little too long. Your family must have had trouble finding the photos to fill the runtime, knowing how adverse you are to being photographed. A lot of them are from Wei Wuxian’s candid collection on his cellphone.

You at your desk hard at work studying for some exam. You chopping vegetables. You and Wei Wuxian in the library, working on a problem together. That one was taken by Nie Huaisang, you know. So Wei Wuxian must have asked Huaisang for pictures.

That one picture of you napping on the sofa is conspicuously absent, knowing how much Wei Wuxian loved that photo of you. Your mother must have vetoed it.

The song ends as the photo of your nephew riding on your back, a rare smile on your face fades into darkness.

The first speaker is hanging out behind the podium, ready.

It’s time for the speeches.

------------------------

Lan Xichen stepped up to the microphone, looking immaculate in a pure-white suit, standing tall and grim-faced.

“My name is Lan Xichen. I speak today on behalf of everyone at Lan Environmentals when I say that we have lost a great technical mind, and for myself, when I say I have lost a true friend.”

A slight murmur ran through the audience. This was new knowledge – had Jiang Cheng worked with Lan Xichen before? The Lan and Jiang worked quite closely, yes, but the two heirs?

As if anticipating the question, Lan Xichen carried on.

“We met through our brothers – a silly little prank Wei Wuxian tried to pull, trying to get us on a sibling double date – previous to that, I had never really worked with Jiang Cheng in any official capacity. You would think it would’ve been an awkward experience, but it was quite the contrary. There are few precious people in our lives that we can truly speak to as equals, rare opportunities to have meetings of the mind, and Jiang Cheng – to me – he was one of these precious few.

That day, we spoke endlessly of new opportunities in green industry, of renewable energy – truly, how rare is it that you find someone who is willing to speak with you about pumped storage hydropower and its comparison to battery storage, and with the same enthusiasm you have for the topic?”

That drew titters from the audience as Lan Xichen smiled ruefully. He waited for silence to fall before he continued.

“In fact, my greatest regret is that I never had the chance to collaborate with Jiang Cheng on any partnership project. He was a brilliant man – mind sharp as a tack, and always willing to learn and see new perspectives. Unafraid of hard work. Always ready to be challenged. In fact, I took advantage of that brain of his on a few occasions – if advice was what you needed, there was no better man to speak to.”

Wei Wuxian glanced at Lan Wangji in askance – did you know about this? His boyfriend nodded, Wei Wuxian’s eyes growing wide at Lan Wangji’s acknowledgement.

Just one more thing he didn’t know.  

“Jiang Cheng was a man I admired, and I’m honoured to have had a chance to speak to that today, and I hope he knows that I said what I did from the bottom of my heart – not as a representative of Lan Environmentals, but as your future brother-in-law. I thought we would have a lifetime ahead of us to bond, and I’m heartbroken that this wasn’t the case.

Jiang Cheng – wherever you are, I hope you find peace and happiness.”

A chilling silence fell over the hall as Lan Xichen stepped away from the stand, letting Nie Mingjue stride towards the podium.

Nie Mingjue was also wearing a snow-white suit. It was rare to see the man out of his steel-grey’s and blacks – the invitations had said black and white were both acceptable, but Nie Mingjue had chosen white.

Nie Mingjue cleared his throat, voice coming out gruff.

“I had a eulogy prepared about how Jiang Cheng managed to keep my little brother from failing out of university, but I’m sure A-Cheng will forgive me this. I was never one for scripted speeches anyways.”

 A-Cheng? The crowd muttered again. Not giving any time to speculate, Nie Mingjue forged on.

“Xichen spoke of Jiang Cheng’s advice. Many of you here know that Nie Heavy Industries started many, many decades ago. We were a humble butchery that, in my great-grandfather’s generation, expanded into steelmaking, and most recently shipbuilding and shipping, building new cross-industry partnerships that have culminated in into the Nie Heavy Industries we all know today.

I know the shipbuilding wasn’t a surprise – we’ve been supplying steel to that outfit we acquired for a while. An obvious connection. But the shipping was unexpected, wasn’t it? There was a lot of speculation – did we have an insider coordinating our efforts? We all know that the Nie have no historical ties to the sea.

We did not have an insider. Instead, we hired a consultant from Jiang Corp – all of us know that they have their fingers deep in the supply chain, with all the moving parts they require to build their technology. The Wanyin Consulting mentioned in our annual reports.

He was hesitant to work with us. His proposal was one that he had submitted to his father, but it had been rejected as being reckless and pointless. He didn’t think it was worth looking at. In fact, the only reason the proposal made it into my hands was because my little brother sent it to me after he dug it out of CEO Jiang’s recycling bin. This was almost five years ago, now.

The proposal was from a 21-year-old, fresh out of the top commerce program in the country – graduated top of his class, too. Obviously, there were holes, some areas that required further thought. But that’s why they’re proposals. What you’re looking for in a good proposal is a vision – a vision with a realistic chance of success.

Three months ago, we were able to ship our meats south with our own shipping containers made from Nie steel, though we’re still paying for the TEUs on the container ship. The containers are returning to our port with a commercial load this month.

In five years, we’ll be shipping steel, iron, commercial goods, along that same route to the southern port, then heading east – our own Neopanamax – the NHI Clear Night.

We wanted A-Cheng to be there to argue over her name. We wanted A-Cheng to be there for her maiden voyage.

If Huaisang is like a son to me, then A-Cheng was like a brother.  

Today, I’m mourning the death of my brother.

Jiang Cheng. You had the right to be proud of your work. The Neopanamax being built is proof of that.

She’s yours.”

-------------------

You had so much time on your hands working at Jiang Corp that you legitimately considered starting up your own consultancy.

But that would be a betrayal to Jiang Corp, you thought, and possibly against contractual agreements.

Not that you ever signed a contract to work at Jiang Corp. I don’t think you were ever offered one.

You said that in passing to Huaisang.

God, maybe I should just do some consulting on the side. At least then I won’t be bored out of my skull.

Jiang-xiong, if you’re being serious, I’ve got a job for you! Da-ge’s always looking for more qualified consultants, and since we’re friends, I’m sure you’ll charge a more than reasonable price.

I’m not serious, Huaisang. Besides, I’m sure your brother can do better than me as a consultant.

Well, I’m serious. Jiang Cheng, how do you know what you’re capable of if you won’t even talk to Da-ge? Come on, just one meeting. I won’t even charge!

What do you mean you won’t charge? I’m the one that’s supposed to be charging!

So that’s a yes?

Ugh, no, it’s not a yes.

I’m penning you in for Friday afternoon. I know you’re free on Fridays, so don’t even try and get out of it. Da-ge’s going to be real disappointed if nobody shows up!

Nie Huaisang!

Yeah, I know. I’m such a great friend, setting up these meetings. Jiang Cheng, seriously. I wouldn’t do this if I thought it wouldn’t benefit our company. And you, of course! But mostly our company. Just go. Please?

Fine. But you owe me one.

Send an invoice! Get incorporated or something!

You reluctantly accepted Nie Huaisang’s offer because you believed him when he said that he thought it would benefit the Nie’s.

What you didn’t know at the time was Nie Mingjue wanted to talk to you about the proposal your father had placed on his desk and said A-Cheng, that’s not a priority right now. Was there anything else you needed?

In hindsight, Nie Huaisang might’ve baited you into that whole conversation to begin with to set up this meeting? You wouldn’t put it past him.

Of course, that makes perfect sense! Nie Huaisang had asked about the status of the proposal, and you had replied straight into the trash. What did I expect? And he had gone quiet. The consultancy conversation came up a few days later, with Huaisang complaining about an employee that had gone rogue and started his own business consulting.

But just like how you’re starting to figure this whole thing out in your head, your family is in complete shock at the news.

Your father has buried his head so far down, almost between his legs.

Your brother looks like his whole world has been turned upside down, and your sister looks terribly guilty about something.

Your mother has walked out of the room.

We don’t even need to read their minds to know what they’re thinking, right?

Exactly. How could I have not known?

-----------------------

There was a brief pause as the two CEOs stepped down, leaving flowers by your closed coffin.

Next up is – one of your direct reports?

One of the content writers you’ve worked with quite closely in the past stepped up.

“Wow. Um, I didn’t know about all of that, but really, all that shows is how incredible Jiang Cheng was. We all knew that. To introduce myself, I’m Ouyang Zizhen, one of the lead content writers at Jiang Corp. I met JC when I was just a lowly intern. I didn’t have that much confidence in myself back then, being new to the team and all. Our team had been doing pretty poorly in comparison to some of the other lateral marketing departments as well.

That’s when they brought JC in to help us out, and wow. He’s the platonic ideal of bosses. He was responsive but not cruel. He pointed out mistakes but gave opportunities to correct and grow – a boss that points out why something is wrong, and tells you how to fix it? That’s when I knew he was the one. Once you’ve worked for him, you’d follow him anywhere. If he did start up that consulting company and he told me he was looking for content writers, I’d follow him in a heartbeat.

But more than that, he expected things from you. Sometimes, that’s not a good thing – you’ve got bosses giving you unreasonable deadlines and impossible tasks. But JC wasn’t like that. Somehow, he knew exactly which tasks would push us to improve, and the deadlines he set always gave us one day to review our work – if we were working, that is!

Our office definitely slimmed down a little after JC came on board.

When he didn’t have subject matter expertise, he wasn’t afraid to ask us lowly employees for our input, pouring in hours of research on his own time. He was always there every step of the way, leading us through project after project. I wouldn’t be a content lead if it wasn’t for him pushing me to fulfill my potential, recognizing my ability and hard work, and giving me what I assume was a fantastic reference, given that I ended up getting the job!

And I’m not speaking on behalf of only myself. This speech came with the blessings of Sammy and Trent and Liz and all of the other people here today who had the pleasure of working with Mr. Jiang. When we learned of his passing, we were all heartbroken, but instead of accessing the Employee Assistance Program we reached out to each other and created our own little support group.

All of us valued our short time working with Mr. Jiang – he’d get our departments up and running in no time at all, and inevitably he’d be moved into a new role to help a new group of people.

All of us are people who have been helped by JC. “Legacy” is a word that’s thrown around a lot in these contexts, but I can’t think of a better word for what JC has left behind. We might not have known him very well on a personal level, but he means more than being just a boss to us. He was our mentor. Our leader.

And wherever we end up in the future, we owe it all to his leadership. On behalf of all the employees you’ve worked with, Mr. Jiang, we say a heartfelt thank you.”

-------------------------

It’s your turn to be shocked, this time, alongside the rest of your family. You didn’t know you meant so much to your colleagues – you were just doing your job.

But it feels kind of nice, doesn’t it?

You might not have left behind any children, but you’ve left behind your own legacy.

…

Family members generally give eulogies at a funeral. Your mother declined, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to hold it together well enough to give a speech. She has a reputation to maintain.

Is her reputation more important than a eulogy for you?

She’s never believed in eulogies. What’s the point, she thinks. He’s dead. He’s not going to hear a word of it anyways, and I’m not giving anyone the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

She thinks you’d understand.

You do understand. You’re impressed she managed to sit through as much of the funeral as she did, storming out only once and returning soon after, smelling of cigarette smoke. You’re impressed she didn’t storm out after Ouyang Zizhen’s speech.

Your brother didn’t offer. He didn’t think it was his place, and he didn’t want to offend Madame Yu by speaking as your brother.

He thinks you’d understand.

You do understand. You were always telling him to stop making Mother angry, after all. Too bad it took you dying for him to start listening.

Your father didn’t offer. He doesn’t know what to say. He wonders if you’d even want him to give a eulogy. He wonders if you’d be upset that he even gave the opening introduction at all.

You don’t know. The thought of your father speaking about how much he loved you turns your stomach, but the fact that he doesn’t disturbs you just as much.

Your sister offered to give a eulogy. Wei Wuxian nearly asked if she was up for it, before holding his tongue, remembering what happened the day they found your body. Your mother knows that her daughter can handle it.

Eulogies are a way for family members to work through their grief. That’s why she’s standing up, ready to give her speech after Ouyang Zizhen.

------------------------

Jiang Yanli had always been a good public speaker. She had a sharp memory and even sharper wit, carrying herself with the confidence that came with being a mediator of two rambunctious siblings.

She stood in front of the crowd, waiting for quiet so she could speak.

Her voice was soft and sweet.

“Thank you, everyone, for joining us in celebrating Jiang Cheng’s life with us today. As many of you will know, I’m his older sister. Jiang Yanli.”

She paused, gathering her thoughts. She didn’t usually speak off a script, but she brought one today, knowing her memory would likely fail her. She hadn’t expected that her sight would be so blurred with tears as well.

She had had a lot of trouble, writing the eulogy.

She hadn’t known that she would have so little to say about her own little brother.

He likes lotus root and pork rib soup? He’s a little grumpy, but he’s secretly super sweet?

I know all of that, but I don’t know anything about how he lives his life…

Clearing her throat lightly, she began again.

“Even when we were children, Jiang Cheng cared for his family more than anything else. He never failed to put us first, oftentimes ahead of himself. Whenever we called for him, he was there. Whenever we needed to talk, he listened. He’d skip his own graduation to attend mine – quite literally.

When I graduated from culinary school last year, he came to my graduation. I only learned afterwards that he had skipped his own MBA graduation. He was the youngest MBA in his cohort. He was top of his class. His professors asked him to give a convocation speech.

Instead, he attended my graduation.”

Her voice caught. The anecdote that was meant to showcase her brother’s thoughtfulness had been twisted by her guilt.

None of us even knew that was the day of his graduation, did we? Not mother, not father, not us.

And I didn’t even know he was working with the Nie’s.

Willing her voice to steady, she continued again.

“When he was alive, I never realized how much of a pillar of support he was to all of us. A constant, someone we could depend on to babysit A-Ling at any time, someone who’d always be there for us.

At the same time, he was always working to meet everyone’s expectations. Our mother always wanted him to be the best. Jiang Cheng always strove to be the best, sinking in hours and hours of work. I’m glad that CEO Lan and CEO Nie spoke to that today. I know that if Jiang Cheng were here, he’d blush and try to brush it off, but it’d mean the world to him. To be acknowledged for those efforts.

My brother – he was only 26. He still had a whole future ahead of him, a whole life to live and –“

…

“If only all of us could live our lives the way my brother lived his. Hard work. Perseverance. An endless well of love. He was the best of us.”

The room’s silent, save for the hiccups coming from the general direction of your brother, his boyfriend handing him tissue after tissue. Your mother is stone-faced. Your father…

Jiang Fengmian is crying in earnest, body racked with silent sobs.

It’s too late.

That’s right. It’s too late.

------------------------

Your sister was the last speaker of the day. The guests file out, giving their last condolences, the venue slowly emptying until it’s just your core family members and their significant others.

Jin Zixuan and A-Ling aren’t present; instead, they went to a family restaurant to grab lunch. A-Ling isn’t fussing at all today, which scares Jin Zixuan a little, but he supposes it can’t be helped given the circumstances.

Your family travels in their respective cars, your sister riding with your mother, to the Yu family grave to see your ashes interred. It’s a dour affair, your family standing stoically as the employee carefully cements shut the stone cover to your grave.

Afterwards, your parents start burning the joss money in the steel bucket provided by the graveyard. Jiang Yanli stands far from the burning, knowing that the smell of the incense may aggravate her condition. Wei Wuxian slowly places in the joss paper that Nie Huaisang had entrusted to him. No one speaks, though multitude tears are shed.

Lan Wangji blames his tears on the smoke.

Your mother doesn’t cry. She feels too empty to muster any sort of emotion. Even when she sees tears falling from her husband’s eyes, it means nothing to her.

A wind blows and your brother catches a glimpse in between the folded edges of the paper he’s burning.

Each paper has a little sketch on them – of you with the shipping containers. Of you and Nie Mingjue, huddled in discussion over next steps. Of you cuddling the Nie’s dog and smiling.

Nie Huaisang’s offering to you is memories.

As the last stack of joss paper ingots are thrown into the bucket, as the flames die down into ashes, your mother pours cold water onto the fire to completely extinguish it.

This is it.

You’re dead and buried.

Your life has officially ended.

…

Now – you have a choice to make.

One. You can stay here and keep watching – I won’t be here with you, sadly. But you can stay and observe as the world moves on without you. You won’t be tethered to your family, I can tell you that. You can roam free as you wish.

Two. You can leave. I’ll tell you two truths. Heaven isn’t real. Hell isn’t real. Leaving is a final decision – all of the karma you’ve accumulated throughout your life will define your next. You won’t remember a thing. Really, there’s no guarantee you’ll even be sentient the next time around.

So two choices, Jiang Cheng. You can stay, and this will be the end. You can leave, and some part of you will always continue.

…Yes, your current existence means that a “you” of the past chose to continue. Every living being on this planet chose that path.

Me?

Haha, everyone always asks that question, as if they could just become me, and then they get confused or mad when I tell them –

Like I said, I’m just a guide. My existence hinges on your making a choice.

I’m the choice that hasn’t been made.

…

So – what’s your choice?

Always with the questions, A-Cheng. Your past lives? Are you trying to draw a pattern to your existence to help inform your choice?

Sorry, Jiang Cheng. All the information you’re getting is the life you’ve lived and the aftermath I led you through.

You have to make a choice.

Although, I suppose it would be very much in line with the rest of your life should you fail to make a choice in time.

I’ll tell you one more thing. There will be no future if you don’t choose.

So.

Choose.

Chapter Text

It was like I had woken up from a very long and very realistic dream. The world was blinding, everything bathed in a bright white light. It took a few blinks for me to adjust.

As I stretched, the pains that usually accompanied the knots in my shoulder were conspicuously absent. I had never felt so light before. So… unburdened.

Then I saw my own unsightly body lying there in front of me.

Ah. The realization was sudden. I’m dead.

The dream was over. Why am I still here? I stood – floated? unsure of what I should do next. So ghosts are real. Huh.

I wondered if I should be sad, being dead. But it really didn’t seem like a huge problem.

Oh well. That’s that, I suppose. Now what?

As I swayed gently above my own corpse, somewhat fascinated by my new state of being, I began to hear the voice.

A presence started talking to me, equal parts annoying and sarcastic, harsh yet playful, saying things I had never wanted to hear yet had always wanted to know. It forced me to watch as my family discovered my disgusting corpse, to watch as my parents fought and my siblings cried, to watch as the people I never knew I held as dear as I did mourned my death.

They cared?

I watched. All I could do was watch, and to listen to the presence mock and narrate every moment of it with chilling poignance.

And as I watched, I began to realize truths about my life. I began to have regrets. The what ifs, the if onlys, the I should’ves and could’ves and suddenly –

Ah.

I’m dead.

I watched as my body was thrown carelessly into a crematorium furnace, the last remaining evidence of my physical existence turned to dust, my final tenuous connection to this earth buried under six feet of concrete. I existed, invisible in the smoke of burning incense offered at my grave, no longer.

It’s over. It’s all over.

I’ll never be ‘Jiang Cheng’ again.

…

The presence offered me a choice. Stay and watch over the future. Leave and be reborn.

Go on, it urged. Make your choice. Choose.

The decision should’ve been obvious. Had I not seen what I had seen with my own two eyes, had I been asked at the very beginning, I wouldn’t have hesitated.

But now I don’t know what to choose.

-------------------------

At the very beginning, I lamented the fact that you, Jiang Cheng, lived alone. That despite your history of bad luck, your penchant for attracting trouble upon only yourself, your mildly cursed nature – you were left to live alone.

Nobody ever really addressed your cursedness, though. Wei Wuxian loved joking about it – man, Jiang Cheng, how the hell are you always so unlucky? Nie Huaisang, too, loved to point out – Jiang-xiong, are you sure about that? Knowing your luck, I can see at least thirty-two ways this could backfire on you. Yanli would sigh and laugh whenever you complained about how the purple Le Creuset Dutch Oven you ordered online arrived cracked, and this was the second time you had ordered it, the first one had arrived in gold, of all colours. She would say it’s almost to be expected, A-Cheng, you should really stop ordering things online.

Your mother just ascribed it to you not trying hard enough because accidents are preventable, Jiang Cheng, pay attention!

But none of them really believed that it was a sign of anything bigger.

Because really, there wasn’t anything bigger. Bad luck is just bad luck. Some people are just unlucky.

There was never anything that could be done about it.

Not live alone? Ridiculous. Everyone needs space to themselves, and you’ve always been the more independent type.

More people checking up on you? You don’t need babysitters. Besides, everyone’s got their own life to live.

Things needed to get done. Lives needed to be lived.

And so you forged on ahead, absorbing every bit of damage into yourself.

That’s just who you are.

So given that, Jiang Cheng, let us give you one more tip to help you along.

Listen.

-----------------------

As annoying as the voice had been, I couldn’t deny that the advice it gave was generally sound.

I closed my eyes, concentrating – just like it had taught me days – hours – weeks before.

I listened.

-----------------------

Jiang Fengmian was in despair.

His son. His son.

Funerals were for remembrance, not for…

How could CEO Nie know more about his son than he did? How?

Ah, he knew how. He’d been told enough by his family, hadn’t he. But hearing it from someone outside the family…

What proposal? He didn’t remember the proposal at all.

Had he really just thrown it into the garbage, just like that?

No, he was busy. He just hadn’t had the time to read it, that’s all.

My little brother dug it out of CEO Jiang’s recycling bin 5 years ago.

That was embarrassing enough, taking that statement at face value. He was being humiliated at his own son’s funeral and all he could do was take it because apparently, his son had created a proposal that had ended up near doubling share prices for NHI and he had thrown it in the garbage.

Even if you could rationalize it as the proposal not being a good fit for Jiang Corp, such a sensitive document should have at least been shredded! The way it was, it painted him as a CEO too blind to see the talent in front of him.

Your son’s being buried in front of you, and that’s what you’re thinking about? The Yu Ziyuan in his head sneered. You’re a real piece of work, aren’t you, Jiang Fengmian?

He snuck a glance at the real-life Yu Ziyuan, irrationally afraid that he was truly being spoken to in real life, that the voice wasn’t just in his head.

But the real-life Yu Ziyuan was staring into space, robotically sweeping away the ashes that hadn’t landed cleanly into the bucket off A-Cheng’s grave.

A-Cheng.

That was the truth Nie Mingjue had been trying to tell him, hadn’t it? That he had been too blind to see Jiang Cheng’s ability?

If he had been told while Jiang Cheng was alive that Nie Mingjue appreciated Jiang Cheng’s talents, how would he have reacted?

CEO Nie is too kind.

He would have taken it as empty praise because –

He knew nothing about his son. Talented or otherwise, he just didn’t know.

--------------------------

There’s something both satisfying and revolting, hearing my father struggle the same way I had my whole life, struggling to understand and reconcile his role, understand the part he played for everything and everyone to turn against him – including his own mind, apparently.

It was somewhat gratifying, yes, but I said it before – it’s too late. I wasn’t in a place to enjoy the benefits of my father slowly realizing the small slights that had built into this.

Dying is like the Schrödinger’s Cat of problem solving – the problem is neither dead nor alive, but in a state where it can no longer be observed. If I was alive, the problem of my father may have poisoned my thinking for a long while to come. Being dead? The problem of my father no longer holds much relevance, does it?

He'll never see me again.

But for all that the satisfaction was slight, the revulsion was profound.

It was disgusting, the way his thoughts spiraled in the same way my own did – of everything I inherited from him, why that?

--------------------------

It was because he knew nothing about his son, wasn’t it, that Yu Ziyuan had demanded that Jiang Cheng be buried with the Yu Family?

He had agreed because he knew, deep down, even before the funeral, that his wife was right.

His wife? For how much longer, he wondered. She hadn’t spoken a single word to him that wasn’t directly related to the planning of Jiang Cheng’s funeral since she told him to get out.

Why was his son not alive? He had wondered that night. Why did Jiang Cheng have to die?

…No. No, no, no. That wasn’t the question he had really been asking, had it? Ah, no. He couldn’t admit it. It couldn’t have been true. No. That wasn’t right, it was just the guilt –

Why did Jiang Cheng have to die before me?

It was mourning, it really was, pure and simple, it was a parent’s grief at burying their own children –

Why did Jiang Cheng have to die before me and leave me to clean up the mess?

No. No.

That wasn’t what he had thought.

It wasn’t. He loved his son, despite everything, even not knowing anything about Jiang Cheng, even if he had been a terrible father, yes, you have, even if you didn’t really seem to care no, he cared –

He didn’t care. He hadn’t cared.

He was a child! His wife had screamed. He loved those mongrels!

Jiang Cheng was Yu Ziyuan’s son, for god’s sake. Any child of Yu Ziyuan should be able to handle something like that, just like their mother. A couple of dogs shouldn’t have been that big of a deal.

No, that wasn’t what he had thought.

Jiang Cheng has his mother. A-Xian doesn’t have anyone. I need to be with him.

That was a perfectly legitimate reason, right? A-Xian was adopted, he needed more attention –

All of my attention. A-Xian’s more fun to be around, anyways.

No. How could he have thought that?

The same way you see Cangse Sanren in Wei Wuxian.

He watched as Yu Ziyuan swept at a grave already clear of ashes, acid rising in his throat.

He had always considered A-Cheng to be his heir – that had never been in question. A-Cheng was the legitimate firstborn son. One day, A-Cheng was to inherit the company. It was set in stone, and he had never really had a problem with it.

He recalled, now, his first days at Jiang Corp. His own father walking him through the building, brimming with pride at what the family had built, teaching him everything he needed to learn about being a leader.

He had done the walkaround with A-Xian, eager to show his adopted son that he was welcome in the Jiang Corp headquarters whenever he wished, even if he wasn’t the formal heir.

Who had done that for A-Cheng?

He didn’t know. After a quick tour around the building, he had handed A-Cheng off to an assistant to let them do as they wished.

Twenty years.

Twenty years and Jiang Cheng’s death.

That was what it had taken for him to realize –

Jiang Cheng had never really been his son.

--------------------------

Biologically, I beg to differ. In all other measures?

The twenty years it took Father to realize was twenty years I suffered knowing that my own father didn’t see me as his son, consciously or otherwise.

I had believed it was conscious – it was so obvious, the favouritism. Mother shouted it at Father over and over again, yet he seemed to only ignore her. How could I believe it was anything but conscious?

But it seems that Father had built his own reality around this situation, doing his best to ignore the rational part of his brain telling him we like A-Xian more to favour the more fanciful part of his brain that said we like them equally! We just spend more time with A-Xian because he’s an orphan, that’s all.

In that case, of course it took me dying for him to realize. He didn’t cry when he saw me dead. He cried at my funeral – why?

False realities are fragile – shards of glass carefully pieced together to form a beautiful stained-glass design. One piece out of place and the illusion falls apart.

I suppose that’s when the realization had begun to set in – what had he been doing to me? How could he know so little about me?

Grieving the loss of a son he never knew shouldn’t have brought him to that point, though. If you ask me –

He was grieving the loss of his fantasy.

--------------------------

Listen. Listen.

--------------------------

Wei Wuxian had a number of regrets.

One could even describe them to be a large number of regrets.

As he watched the remains of his baby brother disappear into the ground, stone sealed with concrete, all he could think about was the last time the two of them had spoken at length about… anything.

It had been more than a month ago.

Tears dripped steadily from his eyes – not at the memory, nor from the sight in front of him.

Why didn’t I ever listen to him? Why did we never talk?

He had known nothing about his brother, the little brother he thought he knew in and out.

Jiang Cheng’s a softy! Jiang Cheng was a softy.

So what? Other than dogs and his sister, what made Jiang Cheng soft? He didn’t know.

Jiang Cheng’s always working. Jiang Cheng was constantly working.

So how could he not know what Jiang Cheng was working on? How could he not know that the Nie’s would even consider naming their first ship in his own brother’s honour?

Brothers for life. I’ll always be by your side.  

They weren’t brothers by blood, but the blood of the covenant is stronger than the water of the womb, or something like that.

Brothers didn’t have to know everything about each other, he supposed, but it had been central to his understanding of their relationship that he did, in fact, know a lot about Jiang Cheng. That he knew what Jiang Cheng was up to, what he liked and disliked, that he was there for Jiang Cheng whenever he was needed. That he could support Jiang Cheng and be by his side as a brother, just like how Jiang Cheng always had his back.

If you’re afraid of dogs, then I’ll chase them away for you.

It had been like that when they were younger, right?

Where – when had it all changed? When had they grown so far apart, even when at first glance they seemed close enough to touch?

…

I knew exactly when it had all changed. As always, it was at a family dinner, one that was never brought up between us.

Hell, maybe it’s one of the family dinners that Wei Wuxian’s attempted to scrub from his mind, though I sincerely doubt he succeeded. It was the day he had announced he was dropping out of college to go work at a funeral home, after all.

Mother had blown up, screeching about how ungrateful of a child he was to be giving up an opportunity that so many would kill for. Father had attempted to calm her down, urging her to let Wei Wuxian followed the path he wished to follow after half-heartedly attempting to convince him not to drop out.

Mother threw her wineglass at Wei Wuxian, the glass shattering on the table in front of him, shards flying every which way.

“Jiang Fengmian! I allow you to pay for the bastard’s schooling. I allow you to pay for the extracurricular lessons. I allow him to live in my house. And yet you’re willing to tolerate this disrespect? You’ll let him drop out, just like that!? To work at a funeral home, at that! Are you insane?!? You brought him home, the least you could do is make sure he doesn’t bring shame to our family!!”

Wei Wuxian stood, stone frozen, droplets of blood running down his cheek, shards of glass embedded in his shoulder and chest.

“Yu Ziyuan.” Father had said, voice calm and low with contempt. “I can tolerate much, but this? Going so far as to injure him? This is beyond me. A-Xian, come. We’re going to the hospital.”

Father grabbed Wei Wuxian by the arm, Wei Wuxian looking strangely reluctant to leave the room and seek medical attention as Father wholesale dragged him out.

Thank goodness Jie was out with her friends that night. Only I had to clean up the blood.

Weeks later, Wei Wuxian moved out of the dorms, leaving me alone.

Nie Huaisang dropped by every now and then, but it wasn’t the same.

It’s all for the better, I promise.

That’s what he said. Laughable.

Mother bore down harder than ever, scrutinizing every 99% and asking why it wasn’t 100%, reminding me that I couldn’t let the family down like that bastard did. She micromanaged every aspect of my life – and I let her. She was my mother. What was I to do?

That was the first time I had wanted to disappear – to die, I suppose, if I were to be honest with myself. What was the point of existing if everything was just so goddamn exhausting? But more than that, I had wanted to kill Wei Wuxian for putting me in this situation – for leaving me.

Why? Why?

He came back years later, once his employment contract was up. He hadn’t changed a bit – still the same upbeat idiot, that omnipresent smile of appeasement on his face.

But I couldn’t let it go. For all that everything seemed to stay the same between us after I let out my initial dose of frustration, those years – something changed. With me. With him.

He had a boyfriend. He stopped coming to family dinners.

It seemed as if he could leave us all behind.

Despite my sincere desire for his happiness, my bitterness grew and grew. He had hidden so much from me, even when I had made every effort to make sure that he knew he was my brother, let him know that he could tell me anything.

“You complain about how I’m living, and your apartment looks like this? Wei Wuxian, what’s the point of having the boyfriend if you still live in a pigsty?” I picked up a single dirty sock from between the couch cushions, raising an eyebrow at him as I tossed it into the washer that Wei Wuxian was desperately stuffing before his boyfriend was set to visit in the afternoon.

“Hey, this has nothing to do with Lan Zhan!” He had replied defensively. “Shove off!”

“Maybe I will,” I said. “Let you handle your mess on your own. See how your precious Lan Zhan reacts.”

“Noooo!” he wailed, immediately repentant. “I’m sorry, didi, please don’t leave!”

In hindsight, maybe he didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t know that when he told me to shove off, some small part of me was ready to walk out of there and never return. If it were anyone else that had said it to me like that, I would have – Nie siblings included. But I stayed. Of course I stayed.

He should have known, though, if he were my brother. If nothing had changed, he would have known.

Regardless.

His time at the funeral home – he never spoke a word about it. How he met his boyfriend. When he had finished off his degree at a community college.

I knew nothing.

Perhaps it was spite, then, that motivated me to start holding my tongue around him. Spite, sprinkled with a little bit of pride.

Why should I beg for him to listen to me when he won’t even tell me about himself?

About why he left?

Still, we spoke on occasion, Wei Wuxian calling to hang out, setting up surprise dates with his boyfriend’s brother and dragging me out to Nie Huaisang’s parties every now and then.

It was then I began to realize that maybe Wei Wuxian didn’t really care for what I had to say. He was forgetful, yes, but at what point does forgetfulness become a blatant disregard for what was being told to him?

I don’t like parties. I don’t like surprises that involve people I don’t know.

Perhaps in the years we were apart, Wei Wuxian no longer considered me to be a brother – rather, someone to keep him company when his boyfriend was indisposed. A convenient existence.

Perhaps he really is leaving me behind.

He’s finally noticed we’ve been holding him back, an insidious voice in my mind had giggled. About time.

I accepted.

------------------------

But that wasn’t it, was it?

------------------------

He had never noticed how one-sided their interactions were, not until Nie Huaisang had pointed it out.

When was the last time you called Jiang-xiong to talk about him, and not yourself?

He had been immediately offended by that question. He called Jiang Cheng at least once a month in an effort to get his brother to cease his hermit ways and join the wonderous existence that was broader society. Wasn’t that “calling Jiang Cheng to talk to him”?

But he hadn’t known, had he, that Jiang Cheng had gone apartment hunting with Nie Huaisang? He hadn’t known anything about the consulting with the Nie’s. Hell, he hadn’t even known that the day of Jie’s graduation had coincided with Jiang Cheng’s!

All he had ever wanted to do was help Jiang Cheng. To do what was best for him.

The realization had ripped through him like a starving dog tearing through flesh, raw and bloody and paralyzing.

“Wei Wuxian, you know Father doesn’t give a shit about what I have to say. If you had handed him a proposal, he’d at least have the courtesy to fucking read it.” Jiang Cheng had said, clutching the glass in his hand so tightly it was a wonder it hadn’t shattered.

“What are you talking about, Jiang Cheng? You’re on that bullshit again? Look, maybe he was just busy, alright? Don’t be so down on yourself. You’re his son! Of course he cares about you.” He had replied, trying to cheer his brother up. “And he didn’t throw it away, right? Come on, stop just holding that glass, drink!”

It had taken Jiang Cheng dying for him to realize that Jiang Cheng was right – Jiang Fengmian really didn’t care that much for the son he had with Yu Ziyuan.

It had taken Jiang Cheng dying for him to really start listening to what he had been told, over and over again, to realize that all this time he hadn’t really understood what his brother had been trying to tell him.

But there was nothing to listen to anymore. It was too late.

If only Jiang Cheng were alive.

Jiang Cheng was dead, and all he could do pray that Jiang Cheng was going to whatever equivalent of heaven existed out there.

All he could do was move on in a life without his beloved little brother, what ifs and how comes never to be resolved.

It broke his fucking heart.

-------------------------

For how fraught my relationship was with my parents, it didn’t trouble me half as much as my relationship with my brother did.

I knew where I stood with Mother; she wanted me to succeed at any cost. I don’t begrudge her that. I know that she loves me in her own way, even if that love was driving me to ruin.

I knew where I stood with Father. He didn’t care about me. As much as it hurt, as much as I tried to turn my father’s attention towards me, I knew I had no chance.

With my sister – well, I’ll love her no matter what. But I know she loves me, even if on the balance I place lower than Wei Wuxian.

My brother?

Did he hate being part of my family, as dysfunctional as we were? Was that why he left? Did he stick with me out of obligation, knowing that as the adopted child he ruined any chance we had at being a normal family? Or did he really love me as a brother?

Did I love him? Did I hate him?

I thought I’d never know.

In that sense, I suppose I’m grateful I’m dead. At least now I know.

-------------------------

Listen. Listen.  Listen.

------------------------

Jiang Yanli stood alone, her husband taking care of Jin Ling.

We’re at a family restaurant, grabbing lunch. Probably go home and take a nap afterwards. Jin Ling is upset.

Sorry I can’t be there with you.

Love you.

She closed her eyes. She could almost imagine Zixuan standing next to her, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder.

She loved her brothers more than anything. They were annoying, the way they bickered over nothing only to drag her in to be the arbitrator of justice, but she treasured them all the same.

She had always been able to count on her little brother. In hindsight, it had come to the point that she had begun to take it for granted that Jiang Cheng would always be there when she called – because he was. Jiang Cheng was always there for her and A-Ling. Heck, he showed up when Zixuan was sick to help take care of him.

“He’s your husband.” A-Cheng had grouched. “He needs to be healthy to take care of you.”

But no more.

She had wanted to reminisce on some of the happy memories. The photos of their picnics, their brunch gatherings; going through them had reminded her of all the fun they had had as a family.

Her thoughts kept circling back to her eulogy.

…

Jiang Cheng had never told her, of course, that he had missed his graduation for her – instead, it was through a friend of a friend whose brother had been in the same graduating class as Jiang Cheng.

“You’re so lucky, Yanli, your brother dotes on you like crazy!” Mianmian had said. “I heard from a friend that Jiang Cheng turned down the valedictorian offer because he wasn’t going to attend his graduation – and I’m like oh yeah, wasn’t Lili graduating that day?”

It had caught her off-guard. “A-Cheng really is a sweet little brother,” she had replied. “I was surprised when I found out that he wasn’t going to go to his own graduation.”

The lie came smoothly – she was a fantastic liar. Years of smoothing over arguments and tiptoeing around sensitive subjects had taught her that the truth was not something to be said lightly, that a lie was often easier told than any truth.

Truth hurt everyone. White lies never hurt anyone.

Mianmian laughed. “Right? But I agree with Jiang Cheng. Your graduation is definitely more important.”

She giggled lightly along with Mianmian, but her stomach had sank.

Why hadn’t Jiang Cheng told her?

But the thing was – she let it pass. She didn’t pursue it any further. If Jiang Cheng didn’t want to mention it, she wouldn’t pry. Instead, she had made some of that pork rib and lotus root soup that Jiang Cheng loved so much and dropped it off at his apartment.

Jiang Cheng hadn’t been home. She put the soup in his fridge and left a little post-it on the kitchen table.

ConGRADulations on your MBA 😊

After writing it out, she had wondered if it would be a little weird to just leave what could be perceived as a passive-aggressive note on his table. In the end, she crumpled it up and wrote a new note.

Made some soup – it’s in the fridge, you know how to reheat. Enjoy 😊

Jiang Cheng texted her later thanking her for the delicious soup. She had wanted to ask – why didn’t you tell me you skipped your graduation to attend mine? but she didn’t know how to approach the issue without sounding accusatory.

So she had let it go.

Had that been a mistake?

------------------------

I don’t know. I did put a little effort into making sure I didn’t let the date of my graduation slip – only the Nie siblings had known, and I had sworn them to secrecy. I didn’t want her to feel guilty about me missing my graduation, and I really did want to go to her ceremony more than I wanted to attend my own.

If jie had confronted me about the whole situation, I don’t know how I would have reacted.

I might’ve brushed it off – of course I’d attend your graduation, you worked so hard to get here! But jie could just as easily throw that line back at me. I could’ve become defensive – it’s not a big deal, jie. I wanted to come your graduation. Don’t worry about mine; it’s my second time after all. You came to my undergraduate graduation, didn’t you?

If jie had left the card on the table, I don’t know what I would’ve done.

But I know I would’ve been happy.

Hypocritical of me, I know. Trying so hard to hide something yet being disappointed when nobody notices it’s been hidden. Something a petulant child would attempt.

Nobody knew that better than me, so I easily swallowed the disappointment that nobody in my family seemed to remember that I was graduating. Well, Mother acknowledged that I was graduating – finally got your MBA, hm? But the ceremony…

I did it to myself. But I hadn’t known that jie had suffered from my own silence on the matter.

…Come to think of it, the year I didn’t receive a present from jie was the same year Wei Wuxian returned from the funeral home. Jie and I had resolved to throw the most lavish party, roping Nie Huaisang in for the planning of a week-long extravaganza of outings and parties. I had mentioned offhand that Wei Wuxian’s party had been so exhausting, I really didn’t even feel like celebrating my own.

That was the one year I didn’t have a birthday celebration.

I wonder if that was jie being considerate, in her own way?

------------------------

Listen. Listen. Listen. Listen.

------------------------

I concentrated hard on my mother, yet I could hear nothing.

I waited.

…

It was quiet.

…

Mother always had words to say to me.

Jiang Cheng! How are you going to improve if you go galivanting with that Wei boy all the time instead of spending time at home with your studies? Look at how far behind you are compared to him. Just once. I need you to do better than him just once, yet you can’t even do that much? If this goes on – it’s like you want me to be ashamed of my own son.

If you have time to waste, then you have time to study.

Another 97%? Why?! Do you like being punished, is that it? Do you want me to get mad at you? One question, look at how simple it is, and you can’t even get it? I put all this effort into making sure you get the best tutors and you still come home with a 97%? God, I wish I could say I was disappointed in you, but it’s almost to be expected. You know what? I don’t want to see it if it isn’t 100%.

You’re my son. I expect better from you.

Sure, you finished your undergrad in three years. How old are you? 20? I finished my master’s degree at 21 and you want me to be impressed? Isn’t that Wei bastard already applying to grad schools? What are you doing? You think with your level of talent, you have the luxury of lazing around?

Do better.

What are you even doing at your father’s company? You’re the heir, and you’re telling me you’re slaving away in – what, marketing? You’re 23, Jiang Cheng, and you still need me to solve your problems for you? Of course working in marketing is a problem, you aren’t a god-damned intern! I don’t care if you’re fine with it – actually, you know what? I do care! My son, being satisfied with some middle management position at his own company? I thought I raised a man, not a sniveling child without the courage to stand up to his own father.

If you’re going to leave, don’t expect me or your father to clean up after your messes.

More than anything, I feared my mother’s silence. Silence was an indication of a disappointment so deep that she had nothing more to say to me, although in this context…

It’s funny. Father’s noisy thoughts led me to feel nothing but disgust. Mother’s silence has brought back that toxic feeling of despair, the one where I felt like vomiting after seeing her resign herself to the reality that her son was never going to live up to what she wanted.

Mom, I didn’t mean to die. I didn’t mean to disappoint you.

I’m sorry.

…

Goodbye, my son. I’m sorry.

…

---------------------------

I opened my eyes. Listening really was quite tiring, and what I heard…

Even now, there are things that I don’t know, things that I will never know. What I had accepted to be the truth was only a petty fraction of reality.

Had I known when I was alive, how much would have changed? Would things have been different? My brother, my sister, my mother – could we have been a family? If I had spoken to my father, could we have at least reconciled as… colleagues, if not as family?

I could take a step forward and try again, search for a new future where I could make all the right choices. But for me to have ended up at this point – I must have tried over and over and over again and yet –

Here we are.

--------------------------

We only exist after you die, once it’s too late for us to cradle you in our hands and shout "Look! There’re people waiting for you! There’s a future for you to live, fortune that you can grasp with your own two hands! Reach out, please, reach out…"

That’s not our role. Our role is to watch and to guide you towards your final choice.

As we wait for “Jiang Cheng” to make a choice, we think back on our own. All those years ago, all those centuries ago, all those millennia ago. It never gets any easier, does it?

Every time, we wonder: is it worth going through a next time? Why can’t I just let my soul linger and scatter away in the wind? What is it worth to the world for me to return?

And every time, we watch and we realize: maybe we didn’t know it in the moment, or maybe we did, but we were loved. Even when we thought we were all alone, somebody cared for us. Maybe they weren’t good at showing it. Maybe they were good at showing it, and we just never noticed, too caught up in our own reality.

We feel like we’re alone in this world. But finding someone is a two-way street – we can’t just wait. We need to reach out too.

A single hand.

----------------------------

In this life, I found myself alone. I was miserable – the world was moving on without me, and I was being left behind. And in being left behind, I was reminded – I’m useless. I’m worthless. I can’t do anything to anyone’s satisfaction. Everything I touch breaks. Everyone I love leaves.

I threw myself into work to salvage even the slightest fraction of self-worth, yet nothing I did could truly be attributed to me. I had no place in the company I was meant to inherit, bumped from section to section, unable to make any substantive progress anywhere. I threw meaningless ideas at a wall, letting others build it into something real. The only happiness I could bring was to serve a babysitter to a child who won’t remember a single moment of it, singular moments of pealing laughter at my petty misfortunes.

…

When I thought about dying, I had always envisioned becoming nothing. No future, no floating ghosts, no pearly gates, no fire and brimstone. Just… nothing.

If there was an afterlife, though, I thought I would watch. Watch as my family lived on without me, watch Jin Ling grow up to be a fine man, watch Wei Wuxian get married and my parents grow old.

It wouldn’t be too different to what I was doing in life. I was content to admire the happiness of others. I needed none of it for myself.

A ghost leaves no shadows.

I was already untethered.

…

But the worth I couldn’t realize in myself, the worth I had tied so firmly to other’s perception of me – it took dying to see that people saw.

Well, forget my father for a moment.

My mother. My brother. My sister. My friends. My colleagues.

I did have value to them, didn’t I?

I was a brother. A friend. A grumpy but apparently good boss and mentor. Just as I wished for their happiness, they in turn wished for mine.  

I didn’t know any of that. If only I had known.

If I had known, would I have been so apathetic to the creaking, the way the cabinets were beginning to slump when I placed a plate on a shelf? If I had known, would I have reacted less sluggishly to the onslaught of glass? I should’ve been more than capable of sidestepping the mess if had I chosen to react appropriately. Why had I dodged into the stove, knocking over the pot of soup? I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking.

I hadn’t intended to die. I really hadn’t. I didn’t think I would die.

I was just a little tired, that was all. It had been a long day at work.

It was just bad luck, that the brackets that held up the cabinets decided to fail that day. It wasn’t that the cabinets were poorly installed, it wasn’t that the plates were overloading the shelves, it wasn’t that the drywall was never strong enough to hold in the brackets.

No; it was just plain old bad luck that sliced my leg open with a shard of glass as I lay soundly knocked out. It was the same bad luck that I had suffered my whole life, the stubbed toes and the fried laptops and the flowerpots falling from balconies, narrowly missing my head as I dodged out of the way, only for the wet soil to splash onto my newly dry-cleaned suit like a fucking skit on TV.

But I lived through all of that, only to die here.

…

I might not have been blessed by fortune. Luck was nothing I had any experience with.

Despite it all, I had managed to build a life with my own two hands – a life that could’ve been happy had I lived a little longer, communicated a little more. If I went to more of those therapy session Huaisang was always pushing me towards.

And yet I still managed to leave something behind.

My family will live a life without me. Jin Ling will grow up and forget about his uncle, and I’ll fade away to be a distant memory in my sibling’s past as they build their own families.

My mother will mourn me, but she still has Yanli and A-Ling. If my death has changed her any, she might even have Wei Wuxian.

My father may regret how he treated me for the rest of his life. He may not.

In any case, why should I hang around to find out? I’ve heard enough.

…

I wanted to try again.

As a rock, as a cicada, as a bird shitting on other people’s suits –

I wanted to try living.

And if reincarnation was real, maybe I’d meet my family again. God knows they wouldn’t hesitate to move on.

We’ve always been bad at giving up.

Attempt the impossible, right?

I took the step forward, a warmth flooding through my body as I grasped the offered hand in front of me.

We’ll meet again in another life.