Chapter Text
“Remember,” Qin Cangye said as their carriage pulled ever closer to Koi Tower, “We will not be discussing or mentioning the recent mining efforts.”
Qin Su barely looked up from where she sat near the closest window.
“Not even to encourage her engagement?” her mother demanded.
It felt like the beginning of an old argument, though Qin Su had only been vaguely aware of it before they’d left Laoling. She’d been far too distracted by the… other matter. The one in which her mother’s true interest had been for many, many years. The matter of her marriage.
“If Jin-zongzhu discovers that we’ve found silver in our lands, any hope we have of maintaining control and ascending to our place among the great sects will disappear overnight. To protect our interests, A-Su must be married before it becomes public knowledge in case we find ourselves in need of allies.”
“Then why are you considering marrying her off to Jin Zixun?”
“Surely Guangshan would respect his claim, if not mine.”
“I thought he counted you as one of his closest friends,” her mother sniffed waspishly. “How great a friendship can it be, if you fear him taking over your interests?”
“I think you’re more qualified to answer that than I,” her father said.
Her mother paled and turned the full weight of her attention back to her embroidery, conversation effectively at an end.
Things had been strained of late between her parents. More so than usual. Qin Su noticed a thread of tension in their exchanges, and to the best of her knowledge they had not shared rooms in nearly a year. Their last visit to Koi Tower, just after the end of the Sunshot Campaign for the crowd hunt, had seemed the start of it. It seemed, she thought, as with all disagreements between her parents, that it came down to her.
News of Jin Zixuan’s broken engagement had come their way too late for her to meet him before the war, but afterwards her father had suggested she find a means of endearing herself to him during their visit in hopes of encouraging an engagement.
Qin Su thought, of every young master of note, one of the last she’d wish to marry was Jin Zixuan. Everyone knew how he insulted and dismissed his fiancée. While she’d never spent significant time around Jiang Yanli, she’d always been impressed with the other woman’s kindness, and Qin Su didn’t believe anyone deserved such scorn.
She supposed it for the best that she hadn’t flung herself at the Jin heir given he was now set to marry that same woman he’d so disdained. She hoped Jiang Yanli’s happiness had been taken into consideration, but she also somehow doubted it. Her mother had made it very, very clear that happiness was little more than a coincidence when one entered a marriage and had confiscated all her volumes of poetry—the ones she hadn’t hidden, anyway—when Qin Su argued against the bleakness of such a statement.
Qin Su wanted to believe in love. Her mother and father had never set a particularly compelling example, either as spouses or parents, but she felt in her bones it had to be real. Her books described it very beautifully.
With Jin Zixuan now out of the question, they’d turned their sights to other eligible young bachelors.
“You’re too stupid for Zewu-jun,” her mother had told her, appearing at her door the evening before they left to present her with new robes, “And too soft for Chifeng-zun. Sandu Shengshou hasn’t established himself properly. Hmm. Perhaps the He heir…”
“What about Lianfang-zun?” she asked quietly. She’d liked what she’d seen of Jin Guangyao. He had a nice smile.
“You will be betrothed to a whore’s son only once I am dead.”
Eventually, her father had put an end to the discussion by ordering her to ingratiate herself to Jin Zixun. “Guangshan insists that he’s still Lanling’s second heir. Not as good a catch as his cousin, but he’ll do well enough for you.”
Qin Su spent most of the carriage ride between their sect seat and Lanling trying to figure out if her acting skills were up to the challenge of pretending to find Jin Zixun pleasant. Before the war, her parents made regular trips to Lanling. Jin Zixun had always reliably been the worst part of it and that included the year she’d come down with such wretched fever and nausea that she’d barely managed to rise from bed for the duration of the visit.
“This could have been a celebration of your triumph,” he muttered as they stepped down from the coach at the bottom of the Koi Tower steps. Red decorations hung from every corner.
Qin Su pressed her lips together in what she hoped looked apologetic and trailed her parents up the stairs.
The wedding of Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli, despite the lengthy delay in proceedings, seemed to her the grandest and most elaborate celebration which she’d ever attended. Every sect leader and dignitary of note would be in attendance; Qin Cangye had insisted they arrive a day early to pay respects.
“She never would have married Jin-gongzi,” her mother stated, close at her heels. She stepped on the back of Qin Su’s robes, and Qin Su nearly stumbled, only barely managing to catch herself at the last moment. “Be careful, A-Su, for goodness sake.”
“Not even a chance of it? Then why did I engage all those tutors?”
Ah, yes. The countless line of scholars who’d walked through their doors to teach her the necessary skills for being the wife of a sect leader. She’d paid attention of course; her father could be ruthless when ensuring any sort of return on investment, including anything spent on her education.
Not that she ever felt terribly educated.
Qin Su enjoyed sweet things. Love poetry and romantic stories, tanghulu, floral teas. Life always struck her as being bitter enough, especially during the long stretch of fear and deprivation that had swept the world during the Sunshot Campaign. She preferred things to be soft and easy.
And pretty, she amended as they reached the top of the steps and she spotted Jiang Wanyin on the other side of the hall.
Jin Guangshan greeted them with his usual expansive cheer, complimenting Qin Cangye in having superior taste in women and congratulating him on having such a beautiful daughter.
Her mother accepted the compliment with pale-faced severity and ordered Qin Su to thank him for the honour of his acknowledgement. Qin Su dipped into a bow, respectfully lowering her gaze.
And when she stood, her eyes caught those of Jin Guangyao.
He’d appeared silently at his father’s elbow, a shadow dressed in gold and pale yellow. Qin Su wouldn’t have been able to articulate how she knew, but somehow the polite smile on his face struck her as false. Her mother often told her she over-romanticized things, her imagination too wild. She doubted in this case that she’d made that mistake.
“Father,” Jin Guangyao murmured once a natural break in the conversation between Jin Guangshan and Qin Cangye presented itself. Jin Guangshan swung an irritated glare his way. “Pardon my interruption, but there is a small matter which requires your oversight.”
Jin Guangshan sighed gustily. “Ah, I’m sure my good friend will excuse your rudeness in having interrupted us, if he’ll likewise forgive me my unnecessarily abrupt departure.” The last three words came out dagger-sharp and Jin Guangyao’s dimples deepened in response, his smile becoming even more fixed.
For a single moment as he stepped away to lead Jin Guangshan away, their eyes caught. Qin Su had thought of Jin Guangyao as pretty ever since first catching sight of him at the crowd hunt celebrating the Jin triumph during the Sunshot Campaign. His eyes, especially. Large and expressive. And she liked his dimples. Well spoken, kind… she’d never heard him speak a cross word to anyone, even in his own defense. She found she, well, rather related to it. People thought him lesser because of the circumstances of his birth. And herself, the sole daughter of a man who’d wanted many sons…
Jin Guangyao spared her a last, lingering smile before hurrying off after his father.
Her mother muttered her name in reproof, but she hadn’t done anything more than meet his eyes. Surely even her mother, with such dedication to propriety, didn’t consider that an offense?
“There’s Jin Zixun,” her father said, “Come, A-Su.”
She escaped from beneath her mother’s eyes, which narrowed further when she looked once more in Jin Guangyao’s direction.
Mere minutes confirmed Qin Su’s assessment regarding Jin Zixun’s utterly pustulous personality. He’d obviously enjoyed several jars of wine prior to their arrival; his usual arrogant manner had backslid into slurring belligerence. He managed to insult Qin Su, her father, all of Laoling, and the majority of the other guests before more than five minutes had passed. Qin Su cast her gaze about for some excuse to escape. Her mother had retreated to the small circle of older women on the other side of the room, willfully ignoring Qin Su’s attempts to catch her gaze.
“...and of course once I finally do away with that bastard Wei and his Wen dogs, I’ll get the recognition I deserve,” Jin Zixun stated, waving his empty wine cup wildly through the air between them. Qin Su took a half step backwards to avoid him hitting her nose.
Even despite the significance of the hour, Wei Wuxian remained the topic of conversation, whispered over in every corner. Qin Su never knew what to make of Wei Wuxian, especially now. She remembered meeting him once as a young child, at the first Discussion Conference LaolingQin ever attended, finally having accepted the disciples necessary to be accorded respect outside of their connections to LanlingJin. She’d been six, perhaps, and had tripped and cut her palm on the boardwalk outside the main hall on her way to find her parents. Wei Wuxian, probably no older than ten but nearly a grown up in her memories, found her first and did handstands and made silly faces until she’d found her smile again.
Her mother told her later that he’d been disciplined for his display. Qin Su didn’t know anything about ‘disgraceful conduct,’ but she had thought it terribly unfair for them to punish him simply for being kind.
Jiang Wanyin, seated nearby and certainly close enough to hear them, looked straight ahead without acknowledging Jin Zixun’s boasts. She noticed, however, that his spiritual tool sparked on his wrist.
Jin Zixun continued insulting Wei Wuxian loudly right up until Jin Guangyao approached. He bowed to them in greeting. Did he think the action would hide the fact that in the past half hour he’d acquired a limp?
“Pardon me, cousin. Qin-guniang, Lady Jiang has sent me to find you. She is meeting with a few other young ladies and has invited you to join them in her rooms.”
“What could respectable young ladies possibly have to chat about in private?” her father asked.
“Ah, I believe they are discussing Lady Jiang’s wedding attire.”
“Clothing. Of course.” Her father seemed torn between keeping her close by and encouraging Jin Zixun’s attentions and sending her off to pay homage to the nascent Jin-xiao-furen. “Fine.”
She dipped into a bow and gratefully followed Jin Guangyao out of the hall.
“Thank you for escorting me, Jin-gongzi,” she said quietly.
“My pleasure, guniang,” he replied. “I did take the liberty of mentioning to Jiang-guniang that you might enjoy her company. I hope you don’t think this was too bold an assumption.”
“Not at all,” she hurried to assure him. “In fact, I should thank you twice if that’s the case.” She knew her first impressions had been correct! Her mother always claimed she was a poor judge of character, but look how sweet Jin Guangyao was in thinking of her. Certainly she preferred his company to that of his odious cousin. If only her mother wasn’t so deadset against him because of his birth, because Qin Su surely would have preferred to marry him—
The thought struck her with such violence that she nearly missed a step. Jin Guangyao hurried to offer his arm, which she took with a thankful smile. The journey to Jiang Yanli’s side passed quickly, but he took great pains to point out some of the more beautiful sights on the way; the presence of a lotus pond quite confused her, but it seemed well tended.
He left her at the door to Jiang Yanli’s rooms with another graceful bow.
“Thank you,” she repeated once more. “Will I see you again before the wedding?”
“I’m afraid there are many duties demanding my attention,” he said. Qin Su’s face fell with her disappointment and he hurried to add, “But I enjoyed our walk.”
She nodded quickly. “I did, too. Very much.”
Was that too much? Too bold? Her mother certainly would have said so, but then her mother would have railed against anyone showing him even basic respect given his station. Which made very little sense to Qin Su, given that Jin Guangshan had claimed him as his son, but perhaps she was as simple as her mother always suggested.
Before either of them had a chance to say more, the door opened and a servant beckoned Qin Su inside.
Jiang Yanli, to her surprise, had already donned her wedding clothes. The ceremonies weren’t to take place until the morning.
“You look very beautiful, Jiang-guniang,” Qin Su told her after they had exchanged quick greetings. They didn’t know one another terribly well, but what woman wouldn’t want to be told she looked lovely before her wedding?
(For years Qin Su had heard that Jiang Yanli had plain features, bland without brilliance. But Qin Su had been in earnest with her compliment. How much of that had been circled by Jin Zixuan himself? How had Jiang Yanli ever forgiven him for it?)
“Thank you, Qin-guniang. But please, call me Yanli, won’t you? I understand that LaolingQin are some of Koi Tower’s dearest friends, and I know we’ll soon be just as close.”
Qin Su smiled and joined Jiang Yanli and a small charm of other women for tea and snacks. She ate far too many pastries, but couldn’t help herself; being out of her mother’s sight and with the freedom to help herself, she reached for the plate bearing the desserts several times. True to Jin Guangyao’s word, most of the conversation revolved around Jiang Yanli’s clothes and ornaments, but quickly transitioned to the rest of the wedding as well, an affair for which LanlingJin had spared no expense.
“You’re so lucky to be marrying such a man,” He Jiali sighed.
“Is she?” He Jiamei demanded. Jiang Yanli blinked at her and He Jiamei sighed. “Don’t think everyone is eager to forget how terrible he was to you at Cloud Recesses. I hope he’s made it up to you and you’re not just marrying him out of some sense of duty.”
“He has made it up to me many times,” Jiang Yanli assured her. Qin Su wondered if anyone else noticed the sudden rosy blush in her cheeks. “I assure you we are very happy.”
Qin Su wished to be as happy in her own marriage. She just didn’t think there was much chance of it if she left it up to her parents.
The same thought she’d briefly entertained earlier about Jin Guangyao caught her off guard. He’d be a lovely husband. Sweet. Attentive. Gentle. Polite. Ideal, really, despite his unfortunate background. And how could that be held against him? Daring as it was to think, weren’t his parents the true culprits in such an affair?
She picked up another red date cake and shoved the entire thing into her mouth in case she said anything aloud that might betray her thoughts.
Jiang Yanli refilled her tea again. “Here, Su-mei. I brought this blend with me from Yunmeng. It goes very well together with those cakes.”
Qin Su hid her mouth behind her sleeve and nodded gratefully.
A few minutes later, another knock at the door interrupted them. A Jiang disciple waited outside, passing a small note through for Jiang Yanli. She read it over, an air of satisfaction settling around her shoulders like sweet perfume.
“But, ladies, I must leave you for the moment. My brother has requested my presence and I have to go and find him. Please, remain here as long as you wish. The servants have instructions to fetch you anything you might like.”
She left them, trailing a cloud of well-wishes behind her.
Qin Su did not mind the company of the He twins, but they quickly fell to sororal bickering, cutting Qin Su out quite nicely. That was all right… she had matters of her own to ponder.
Eventually the peaceful escape came to an end. They were all summoned to the main hall for dinner, where Qin Su suffered through many congratulatory speeches; mostly self- where the Jin were concerned. Full of sweets, Qin Su barely touched what was in front of her, content to let her gaze wander. Whatever errand had taken Jiang Yanli away kept her from joining them. And Jiang Wanyin had disappeared as well. Jin Zixun made one poorly-received joke about Jiang Yanli changing her mind, the only one that Jin Guangshan called him to task for and then probably only because of how irritated Jin Zixuan seemed.
Qin Su barely paid attention, her gaze wandering over to Jin Guangyao as often as she allowed it. He sat quite close to Zewu-jun, their heads bent together in quiet conversation.
“Qin Su,” her mother said once the last of the dinner dishes had been cleared away and Jin Guangshan had called for more wine, “Return to our rooms. This is no longer an appropriate venue for you.”
Qin Su nodded and stood, gratified when she caught Jin Guangyao looking her way. She smiled at her feet, hoped he knew that she wished she were at liberty to openly look his way and offer the expression to him directly, and escaped the hall.
She very nearly reached her rooms when she heard the familiar sound of Jiang Yanli’s voice.
“—too thin!”
“At least he’s drinking less.” She thought that was Jiang Wanyin.
“Probably only because they can’t afford it. Oh, A-Cheng, there has to be more we can do than deliver soup.”
Qin Su rounded the corner and caught sight of the Jiang siblings returning from the direction of the outer gates, Jiang Yanli draped in a heavy black cloak. Beneath it, Qin Su thought she caught a flash of gold and red, but what could possibly have brought Jiang Yanli away from Koi Tower while still in her wedding dress?
“I’m trying to find a solution, A-Jie, I prom—” Jiang Wanyin caught sight of her and his mouth snapped shut.
Jiang Yanli followed his line of sight. Her brow furrowed for only a moment before it smoothed out again. “Su-mei, A-Cheng was just escorting me back to my room for the evening.” She glanced at her brother. “Have you met Qin-guniang?”
“Not… recently,” Jiang Wanyin said gruffly. “Good evening, guniang.”
“Hello,” she said, quickly dipping into a curtsey. Another memory long buried since childhood: while Wei Wuxian might have been the one to help her smile again after her injury, Jiang Wanyin had sat with her while the healers tended to the weeping cut on her hand. Perhaps his parents had ordered him to such a service, but she’d always liked to think he’d done so of his own accord.
“I hope we can rely on your discretion, meimei,” Jiang Yanli said. The look on her face suggested that her ‘hope’ was really more like an expectation.
“Of course,” Qin Su agreed immediately. She didn’t know exactly what she was supposed to be discreet about but Jiang Yanli had been good to her and Qin Su did not wish to bring her any pain.
“Thank you.” Then, perhaps sympathetic to Qin Su’s curiosity, she explained. “We’ve been to see our brother.”
“Your…?” Qin Su frowned in Jiang Wanyin’s direction.
His face slipped into a glare. “Wei Wuxian,” he clarified. The words sounded like a warning.
To be absolutely fair, not a soul in Laoling had ever, ever referred to Wei Wuxian as the Jiang siblings’ brother. To her father, Wei Wuxian was merely the pest who made their disciples appear weak and foolish. Her mother only ever referred to him as a servant’s son; low-born and determined to reach above his station.
That, however, wasn’t the primary concern.
Should Jiang Yanli be encouraging him? Everyone knew that Wei Wuxian had inappropriately pursued her to the point that she’d needed to retreat to Koi Tower and impose on Jin-zongzhu’s hospitality to avoid him. Her mother’s servants had repeated the gossip amongst themselves, heedless of Qin Su’s presence. Jiang Yanli had supposedly been harassed to within an inch of her life, even going so far as to offer insult to LanlingJin at the last Discussion Conference to avoid invoking his ire, right before he’d freed the army of Wen cultivators and disappeared into parts unknown.
Qin Su swallowed nervously. It was not her place to make any offers, but Jiang Yanli was sweet and had treated her with kindness. She nervously bit her lower lip, but managed to speak without her voice shaking, “If you are both in need of help because of some hold he has on you…”
Jiang Wanyin’s eyes widened and his mouth pinched into a hard line, whereas Jiang Yanli merely seemed sad.
“You are very good, meimei,” Jiang Yanli said. She reached out and took Qin Su’s hands, enfolding them in her warm palms. “But please take to heart that you should not believe everything you hear. My brother,” she emphasized the word, an intensity in her eyes Qin Su had never seen in the gaze of another woman, “Is not a danger to us, or anyone.”
“Except himself,” Jiang Wanyin muttered. Qin Su chanced a glance at him, in case Jiang Yanli were trapped in some enthrallment. Maybe they both were? Rumours of the power and influence of Wei Wuxian had only recently begun to circulate, but everything she’d heard—
But then, Jiang Yanli said not to believe everything she’d heard.
“I remember him being very nice,” she finally offered, internally wincing at the banality of the words. Why could she never articulate herself well? Anytime she tried, it always came out muddled and simple. No wonder her mother thought her an idiot.
“He is good,” Jiang Yanli told her. “But it’s not always the same thing.” She glanced at Jiang Wanyin. “I can find my way back, A-Cheng, if you’d escort Qin-guniang to her room.”
Jiang Wanyin seemed about to argue, but a pointed look from his sister silenced him. With a sigh that Qin Su tried and half-succeeded not to take personally, he reluctantly offered her his arm.
They walked together in awkward silence, only broken when Jiang Wanyin finally asked, “Did we miss anything at the banquet?”
“Jin Zixun suggested that Yanli-jie had changed her mind and run away.”
Jiang Wanyin rolled his eyes. “Well, if the peacock had made excuses like we told him to, that wouldn’t have come up.”
So Jin Zixuan had known they’d gone off to see Wei Wuxian, wherever he’d hidden himself? She supposed that gave her some comfort; the two of them hated each other, by all accounts, so if he’d allowed his future wife to go then he had to have some confidence in her return. Right?
Jiang Wanyin stopped outside her door and bowed. “Goodnight,” he said stiffly.
He left before she had a chance to reply. Jin Guangyao probably would have lingered, at least for a while. To observe a few pleasantries, certainly. He had such amiable manners. Jiang Wanyin should consider modelling himself after the other man; as a sect leader, someone needed to tell him that the use of softness often overcame hardness. But that seemed like a lesson someone else should take responsibility for teaching him.
She slipped into her room and to the chest the servants had packed for her before leaving Laoling. Her mother’s maid had searched it before they’d left for excessive snacks, poetry, books, or anything of which her parents might disapprove or be embarrassed by. Fortunately, Qin Su had long learned her lesson about hiding such things. Buried amidst countless frocks and jewelry, she’d brought along a small collection. Mostly poetry, in case her mother tried to catch her out reading something inappropriate, but she’d slipped in a few thin volumes she’d enjoyed in the privacy of her room before. She pulled the latest in a series of romances from where she’d hidden it and dropped back onto her bed to read it.
She’d read the same story written in a thousand different ways. Lovers torn apart by circumstance. In this example, a political alliance threatened to part a young nobleman and his sweetheart. She noticed that whoever had copied it out had gotten shaky with a few of the characters, merely adding to the desperate feeling which wove its way through the narrative.
Unrealistically, in her opinion, it ended with the couple convincing their parents to agree to their union. She sighed over it. The only way she’d ever convince her parents of anything was if the risk of their reputations were on the line and they needed to save face.
She blinked to herself and let the book drop out of her hands. Had she… accidentally found the perfect solution to her problem?
She wondered.