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Her son is dying.

Qin Su doesn’t want to admit it, doesn’t want to speak the words aloud in case she makes them true, but even without them hanging in the air, they seem to be true. She doesn’t know what illness sickens him, why his condition is deteriorating so quickly. Qin Su washes his face and body with a wet cloth every day, cleaning the sweat from his skin, does her best to get some food or water in him, anything, and weeps.

He is dying, and she can do nothing. Rusong is dying, and she is utterly useless.

The door opens, and it is A-Yao. Her husband looks just as much of a mess as he ever has — he is presentable to the public, of course, for he still must walk these halls and do his duty, but Qin Su can see the exhaustion in his body, the fear and worry in his eyes. “How is he?” A-Yao asks, shutting the door behind him and stepping to her side.

The squeeze of his hand on her shoulder and the press of his lips to her head are balms to her, a rope cast to her as she swims adrift in the sea. She is not alone in this. “No better,” Qin Su whispers, unable to speak louder or she will start weeping.

His grip on her shoulder tightens, and then relaxes. “A-Su,” he says, voice soft. His brow is furrowed, something warring in his gaze as he looks down at her. “Do you trust me?”

The question is absurd. “Of course I do,” she says, as easy as breathing. She trusts A-Yao wholeheartedly, with everything in her life, with heart and soul and beyond. She loves him.

Such a response seems to pain him, for some reason, and he glances away. “…I know of a doctor that could heal him,” A-Yao says, and Qin Su straightens in her seat, for she has seen the Jin Clan’s doctor come and go with no answers, and also seen the Qin doctor her father sent do the same. A-Yao wets his lips, and smiles just slightly. “Wen Qing could. She is not dead.”

It as though she has been doused in ice. Gone under in Cloud Recesses’s Cold Spring. “What?” she croaks, eyes wide.

A-Yao hesitates again. It is uncharacteristic of him. She does not know if it is because of the subject, because it is her that he is admitting deception to, or because he is doing it on purpose, adopting such an affectation to seem more uncertain than he is. Qin Su knows her husband has a myriad of masks, can lie right to an enemy with a smile, has tactics and schemes she would never dream of…

But, foolishly perhaps, she thought he never wore a mask around her.

“When Father claimed to kill Wen Qionglin and Wen Qing,” A-Yao says, “He did not. Instead, they are both imprisoned here, within this tower. I have… kept them as well.

There are so many questions to ask. So many things she wishes to say. But now… now is not the time. “Please,” she whispers. “Bring her here.”

And he does.

For someone that has been a prisoner for many years, Wen Qing looks fine. Well. She has not been imprisoned in some dank dungeon, wasting away (or so it seems), and she gives Qin Su the barest nod of greeting when she steps in before going right to Rusong.

Qin Su had met Wen Qing once, when they were both children. Brief, only in passing, and she has the same flat look now as she did then.

At the moment, though, that is all the thought she can give to Wen Qing, for it is Rusong that is important. Qin Su clears out of the way, letting A-Yao hold her as she watches. Her ‘errand boys’ are Su Minshan and Mo Xuanyu. Su Minshan, who normally grates at any menial task heaped upon his shoulders, who revels in the fact that he is now a Sect Leader and those that looked down upon him must at least regard him reluctantly as an equal, who is doing all of this without complaint because A-Yao is dear to him, and he understands the trust that is placed in him, in this situation. Mo Xuanyu, eyes bright with determination and anxiousness, whose status in the sect has seemed more and more uncertain by the day and yet is here, in this quiet room with one of the best kept secrets in this tower.

Neither had seemed surprised at all. Is she truly the only one who knows so little?

The work of a doctor is indecipherable to her, and yet Qin Su watches anyway, biting her lip and wishing, hoping, waiting. Waiting for the moment that Wen Qing straightens up and looks A-Yao dead in the eye. “It’s poison,” she says.

Qin Su’s feet collapse underneath her, knees hitting the floor with a sharp gasp. She can’t even catch herself on her hands, and Su Minshan does that for her, leaping forward to stop her from crumbling entirely as A-Yao then grabs her to support her. Both men’s hands are on her, eyes wide with alarm as they join her on her knees, but Qin Su only has eyes for Wen Qing. “Can you save him?” she begs.

If needed, she will crawl forward and grovel at this woman’s feet. She will promise Wen Qing anything — freedom, her own life, anything — so long as her son is healed. So long as Rusong can wake once more and see the world.

Wen Qing meets her eyes, and softens. Just a fraction. “I can,” she says, “But what will you give me in return?”

“Anything,” pleads Qin Su, desperate. “Anything.”

A-Yao’s face is tight behind her, but he still smiles. “We will bargain,” he says, and Qin Su could weep from relief.

She is not to be present for the bargaining. Qin Su understands why, but it still rankles her. Yes, she reeks of desperation, and would likely agree to anything, and yes, she is not an innate bargainer to begin with, but…

Su Minshan is the one to escort her out, while Mo Xuanyu stays behind — the latter is not to be trusted with Qin Su in her ‘fragile state’, as A-Yao puts it, which again she wants to argue against but cannot. It feels like she has stepped out onto what she believed was solid ground, only to feel it crumble beneath her feet.

His hands on her are warm, one hand on each shoulder, and it is in truth hardly appropriate. She is married and he is not, and yet Qin Su is hardly one to care for propriety — nor does she think Su Minshan has any designs on her . She allows Su Minshan to lead her away into the adjoining receiving room, allows him to help her sit on the ground, and accepts the tea he presses into her hands. It’s warm, but she cannot even taste it. Not when she is in such a state.

“I thought we were the same,” she whispers, for she cannot think of her son in this, cannot think of Rusong and the negotiation occurring by his bed, cannot think of the fact that her child is dying of poison or she will crumble further and weep. As terrible as the other subject is, it is something she thinks she can speak of without shattering, and so she does.

Minshan frowns slightly. “My lady?”

“I thought- A-Yao trusted us both,” she whispers, voice hoarse. “That we both saw him without masks. But you… you knew.” She knows her eyes are wet with accusation. “Didn’t you?”

If no one else knew, if the secret belonged to him alone — Qin Su would have been shocked, surely, because long-dead Wens in the basement are not normal, but it would not have been personal. Even someone like Mo Xuanyu knowing isn’t personal, for Qin Su knows A-Yao doesn’t much care for him, and he would know for some practical reason other than affection.

But Su Minshan…

His silence speaks volumes, his hesitation warring across his face, and she closes her eyes. Ah. She is not first in his heart, then. She can bear it. She can. “…Is there more? More secrets?”

Su Minshan squeezes her shoulder. “…You should talk to Guangyao about that,” he says.

She sniffles. Qin Su can’t help it. Her son is poisoned and A-Yao cares for others more and if there are worse secrets that even top the Wens…

If she presses her face into Minshan’s chest and cries a little, well, neither of them are going to tell anyone.

When A-Yao emerges from the room, Qin Su’s eyes snap to him. She scrambles to her feet, Minshan supporting her. “Well? Is she-“ She swallows sharply.

A-Yao looks her over with concern, but nods. “She’s treating him,” he says. “Rusong will be fine.”

He doesn’t offer up details of the agreement, and Qin Su doesn’t ask. Right now, she doesn’t care. She sags against him, relieved, and he holds her. .”…Can I go in? Will my presence be a bother?”

His eyes are soft as he looks at her. Even if she is not first, he still cares — Qin Su has never doubted that. “You can,” he says, and that’s all she needs to hear.

She has eyes only for her son, when she enters the room. The spot by his bed is vacant, and she sinks down next to him, taking Rusong’s small, clammy hand in her own. His face is twisted up in pain even in sleep, his eyes screwed shut as his head jerks from side to side, and Qin Su brings his hand to her lips to press a kiss to it. “Mama’s here,” she murmurs to him, “Mama’s here.”

It seems to soothe him, her presence — she’d like to think it’s not a coincidence that he soon settles down, and she relaxes, just… watching him. Poison. Poison. Who would poison her precious little boy?

After some time has passed, Wen Qing appears at Qin Su’s side with a small bowl of what seems like medicine. As Qin Su watches, she spoons some into Rusong’s mouth, using one hand to open his mouth for it and then to massage his throat while he swallows. “This… this will help?” Qin Su asks, watching as she does it again.

Wen Qing nods. “It will help.” Qin Su knows it was a stupid question, but she’s grateful Wen Qing has at least some sympathy for this terrified mother.

“Then… when you need to prepare more, will you show me?” she asks.

For a long moment, Wen Qing scrutinizes her, looks her over from top to bottom. “…Yes,” she says, and Qin Su gives her a smile.

Qin Su has never had to grind herbs before — she learns. She learns the names of each herb Mo Xuanyu brings, how to tell them apart, how to grind each one and how to mix them properly together. She has given medicine to a sick, barely-conscious child before, but if she wasn’t certain of her skill before, she certainly is by the time Rusong starts waking up enough to take the medicine on his own.

They have much time before that, though — word spreads that Jin Rusong is sick, and it is believed to be contagious, hence her remaining isolated with her son and missing every function that her husband attends. If he is at the tower, he stops by daily, bringing letters from well-wishers and a worried Jin Rulan, whose letters were a mix of his clumsy writing and Jiang Wanyin’s much neater hand. A-Yao never lingers long, for his presence clearly makes Wen Qing uncomfortable, and Qin Su… has questions she is not yet willing to press.

So in the room, it is just Qin Su, Wen Qing, and the unconscious Rusong. Mo Xuanyu drifts in and out, at times their guard and other times sent to run errands — Qin Su wonders if A-Yao can truly cast out his younger brother after this, or if she would even let him, because she is quickly growing fond — but mostly, is just the two women. A bed is dragged in so they can trade off sleeping, Mo Xuanyu delivers their meals, and they use Rusong’s adjoining bathing chambers.

Qin Su talks to fill the silence. She has never been good with there being… nothing, and Wen Qing does not seem inclined to talk. She speaks about Rusong, to start. How he is not good with his lessons, but tries to hard. How his soft brown eyes shine whenever Jin Rulan is over, how he follows after his cousin with eager little feet. How he curls up on her lap, listening intently as she reads him stories, slowly, slowly drifting off to sleep.

Her voice cracks, embarrassingly, on the last story, and she has to press her face into her hands and try not to weep. Wen Qing lays a hand on her shoulder. “It… will be alright,” she says stiffly.

It almost makes Qin Su feel worse, that Wen Qing is comforting her. She is a prisoner here, has been for many years, and whatever the terms are with her husband, a prisoner she remains at least until Rusong is healed. Never mind the Ghost General, hidden somewhere in this tower. And she has lost so many, too, beyond that…!

After Qin Su has managed to regain her composure, Wen Qing’s warm hand on her back both a benediction and a curse, she looks at her and gives her a watery smile. “I… shouldn’t be the only one talking,” she says. “If you ever want to speak of your family or… of anything else, I will listen.”

Wen Qing’s eyes widen, and then she glances away. She exhales slightly and when she looks back, she is expressionless. “I… will consider it,” she says.

She does not speak that day, but she does the next, and Qin Su feels her heart breaking anew at each word. She hears of Uncles ranging all the way to Fifth, each a personality of his own, stooped and elderly and sweet. Of a pair of cousins, who looked so similar they could be siblings, who never parted from each other’s side after the rest of their family was killed. Of Granny Wen, the elderly matriarch that Wen Qing loved and loves so dearly. Of the Ghost General, Wen Ning, her cherished baby brother who is still a person, still himself, even after death.

She speaks haltingly of a different uncle, of Wen Ruohan himself, of being his favorite and all that that entailed. 

They fall quiet after that, and Qin Su dabs at Rusong’s forehead, searching for words. “…And what of the Yiling Patriarch?” she asks. “What… what was he like?” She had only seen him in passing a few times, but… Wen Qing spoke of the Ghost Gen- of Wen Ning, in such fond terms. What if the man who gave him orders?

Wen Qing’s hands still on the mortar and pestle. “He… was like my brother, too,” she says quietly. She spins the tale of a broken, kind, intelligent man, who had done his best to save her family, and how she and her brother had done their best to save him and the other Wens and Wen Yuan specifically by turning themselves in.

This is the first she has heard of Wen Yuan — perhaps it is unsurprising that Wen Qing has experience with children, given her treatment of Rusong. Qin Su asks after the child as well, and Wen Qing tells her. She is partway through a story, eyes wet but slight smile on her face, of Lan Wangji meeting Wen Yuan when something occurs to Qin Su and she goes very, very still.

Wen Qing notices immediately and stops her story. “What?” she asks, wary.

“Wen Yuan… how old was he, when he… passed?” She stumbles around the word killed, unable to speak it in regards to a child, and she can feel Wen Qing judging her but the woman simply narrows her eyes.

“Three or four years old,” she says, focused on Qin Su. “Why?”

Qin Su does the math and her face pales. Surely not… but… She exhales shakily. “I do… not want to get your hopes up, but Lan Wangji has a son named Lan Yuan. The same age. There is no mother.”

Wen Qing stares at her in pure shock, mouth agape, before she crumples, burying her face in her hands as her shoulders shake with sobs. “Oh, A-Yuan, please…!”

And it is Qin Su’s turn to lay a hand on her shoulder, warm and comforting.

Rusong begins waking in spurts, after some time, and it heartens both of the women. Qin Su is eager for her son, for that precious light of her life to get better, for him to be able to walk and run and play. For now, she must be content with holding him as he whispers her name, crying over him when he slips back under, and watching watching for every little movement.

Wen Qing is also eager, too, for a full recovery for Rusong means her freedom — means that she and her brother can track down Lan Wangji out of a fierce, desperate hope, for even if they are wrong, they do not think he would expose them. (Qin Su hopes they are not wrong.)

It does make her look at them curiously, though. “You trust my husband to keep his word?” she asks.

“No,” says Wen Qing, face tight. “But… I had no other hope.” She glances at Qin Su. “And now I know that you would force him to keep it."

“I would,” Qin Su agrees, happily.

They do not mention this conversation to A-Yao. It is her turn to keep secrets. He still visits, and even gets to see Rusong awake on one occasion, gets to hold him close with tears in his eyes before the boy falls asleep once more.

He improves, slowly but steadily. He begins to stay awake longer, to demand more conversation, and the first time Qin Su gets to read him a story, his favorite about a lost rabbit that had come from the Lans, she ends up in tears after he falls asleep in her arms listening. She and Wen Qing spend less time talking and more time caring for Rusong.

A-Yao visits, and Rusong greets his father joyfully. It gives the women a reprieve, for though Rusong is still ‘lacking’ energy, unable to remain on his feet for too long… it does not exactly feel as though that’s the case. He is growing antsy about remaining in the same room for so long. He wishes to roam the garden, the tower, and play with Jin Rulan and others. Qin Su is so grateful that he is doing better, and completely understands his feelings, but…

They still do not know who poisoned him – the how has been discovered, a servant who conspicuously quit not long after Rusong fell ill, but she had not known the identity of the one who paid her off. A-Yao is still following that trail – and so his ongoing recovery is kept quiet. (The outside world likely believes that he – and perhaps also Qin Su – will perish, and the letters from Jin Rulan are growing more and more distressed as time goes on. They may have to bring Jiang Wanyin into the fold on the poison aspect, for neither believes it is him, just to prevent the boy from beating down their door in his fright.) There is also the fact that, well…

He knows Wen Qing.

Oh, yes, he does not know her by name – she is a nameless auntie to him, the nameless but kind doctor nursing him back to health Qin Su’s and Wen Qing’s conversations have shifted to safer topics, avoiding the name ‘Wen’ altogether even while he sleeps, but while she is physically here, it is dangerous. Once she is long-gone, Qin Su can far-more easily divert any suspicions people have of a nameless, mysterious doctor, but while she is here, the chance of discovery remains.

It is one exhausting night when everything falls apart.

Rusong is particularly belligerent. In the morning, he almost throws a fit and is only placated by writing a clumsy letter to JIn Rulan, which Qin Su hopes will soothe both boys, though she may have to heavily censor it. THe afternoon involves him walking around his room as fast as he can – he can’t run yet, though he’s tried – until his legs begin to buckle beneath him. He insists on continuing, which obviously Qin Su doesn’t allow, which causes tears. They’re only halted by the arrival of lunch, after which Rusong drops into a nap. Upon waking up, the argument renews and there are even more tears. Qin Su wrestles him into a bath, which is desperately needed because she swears he’s still sweating out every single drop of liquid she manages to get in him. Once he’s in the bath he’s happy, but getting him out is a struggle of immense proportions. It takes a combination of dinner, lots of tea, medicine, and so many stories that Qin Su’s voice grows hoarse before Rusong finally stops fighting sleep and passes out.

Qin Su slumps by his bedside, utterly exhausted, and Wen Qing emerges from the corner she had retreated into. By silent agreement, after Qin Su breathes for a moment, they head to the opposite side of the room to sit at the table, giving the sleeping child some distance. Rusong had been utterly exhausted by the time he gave up the fight, and they would hate to wake him.

Wen Qing smiles at her, just slightly. Her smiles are never large nor lingering, and that makes Qin Su cherish them all the more. “You are a good mother,” she says, voice barely above a whisper.

Qin Su chuckles quietly. “You think so? Did you miss me losing my temper?”

Wen Qing shrugs, smile still in place – she seems happier as Rusong has improved, though always reserved. Improvement means she is closer to freedom and chasing after Lan Yuan. “Everyone has a breaking point.”

It’s a fair point. Qin Su inclines her head, and then watches as Wen Qing pours them both tea. She truly does enjoy being a mother. Raising a child. She wouldn’t have minded more than one, in fact – but A-Yao had confessed after they had wed that he… hadn’t enjoyed sleeping with another person. It was not her, specifically – while he had been willing to for their shared pregnancy plan to force a marriage, if she would permit, he would rather remain celibate for the rest of their days. She had permitted it, of course, and it had changed nothing, but it meant that Rusong was and is their only child.

Normally, Qin Su’s time is not this much taken up by her child, she has a life outside of him and he has nannies – they had been the first suspects, of course, but had all been cleared – and thinking of her own activities, or current lack thereof, makes her think of something she has not yet asked Wen Qing. She had been too focused on Rusong, had needed the distraction that stories of family conjured up, but given she dares not utter the name ‘Wen’... “May I ask, what work were you doing under my husband?” she asks. They have been sitting in silence long enough as Qin Su thought that Wen Qing jerks slightly in surprise. “Before this, I mean.”

Wen Qing… hesitates. She casts her gaze over to Rusong, as if checking that he is truly sleeping. She looks over Qin Su, next, evaluating her, and Qin Su looks evenly back. The sudden seriousness has her taken aback, though. She had been expecting medical work, secret because of her identity but lacking any other reason. Perhaps she was the reason behind Nie Mingjue’s sudden recovery years ago, A-Yao using her skills to heal his sworn brother. Or perhaps behind her own recovery, when she fell ill after giving birth to Rusong. Not… hesitation.

“Some new… experimental medicine,” Wen Qing says finally, voice hushed. Qin Su has to lean in to her. “When you were ill, I was the one who healed you.” It warms her, to hear that, and Qin Su is about to thank her when she continues, bluntly. “Poisons.”

Qin Su’s blood runs cold. “Poisons?” she asks, numbly. Wen Qing swallows and nods. It means that A-Yao has likely used those to assassinate. She… Qin Su knows probably one death, immediately, and it’s not even one she’s upset by (Jin Guangshan deserved such a fate, if anyone did), but again the lack of trust, the fact that-

Wait.

Her hands tremble in her lap, and Qin Su has to press a hand over her mouth. She wants to be wrong, she wants to be wrong she wants to be wrong she wants to be wrong. “Rusong…” She swallows around the shards of glass in her throat. “Was it one of yours?”

Wen Qing nods.

Qin Su doesn’t remember standing. She rips open the door, startling Mo Xuanyu standing on the other side. “Get in there,” she snaps at him. “Keep watch from the inside.”

His eyes are wide, and Qin Su has never felt herself boiling like this, never felt this much rage inside her crescending as it is this very moment. He goes inside and she heads right to Jin Guangyao’s chambers. Every servant, every other Jin that she passes goes wide-eyed and gets out of her way. That’s never happened before. It needs to happen now.

She interrupts her husband in the middle of a conversation, one with Su Minshan. Of course it’s with Su Minshan. Qin Su is almost shaking with rage, and jerks her hand towards the door. “Go guard Rusong’s door,” she snaps at Su Minshan. Both men look completely shocked, and if it were any other circumstance, she would consider it comical. Su Minshan hastily walks past her to the door – he hesitates, as he is about to leave, and she whirls on him. “ GO!”

He goes.

She is breathing hard, furious and shaking with it, and Jin Guangyao approaches her. “A-Su,” he asks, his face a mask of concern. “What’s wrong? Did some-”

Qin Su slaps him. The smack of skin on skin is not as satisfying as she had hoped. He’s still, face turned away from where she pushed it, not looking at her. “Did you try to kill Rusong!?” That’s his heir. That’s his heir. And yet…!

He looks genuinely shocked at this, and yet Qin Su is beginning to wonder if anything about her ‘precious A-Yao’ was ever genuine. “He is our son! Why would I ever-”

“It was your poison!” she snaps. “I know it was your poison! She made it for you! Don’t you lie to me!”

For a single moment, his face goes blank, and then he says gently. “A-Su… yes, it was my poison. But if I intended for Rusong to die, why would I have brought in Wen Qing?” It’s… true. If he had never revealed Wen Qing, then Qin Su would have never even doubted him in the first place, and- and-

She sinks to the floor, and buries her face in her hands. “Please,” she says, whispering into them as she tries not to shake. “I feel like a madwoman. Tell me everything. You hold too many secrets, and I cannot- I cannot-”

He gets down on his knees as well, and presses a gentle hand to her shoulder. It doesn’t comfort her, but only adds to her turmoil. What if this is nothing, and she has been obsessing about a single step out of the norm when he is still hers, utterly and truly? What if this is nothing and she has been enjoying her time with another far more than him, has dismissed him in her mind when another’s presence is what she craves? What if this is nothing and she has just- she has just-

Jin Guangyao is quiet for a moment longer, rubbing her shoulder gently, before he speaks. “I was setting a trap,” he says. “The one who poisoned Rusong… I was setting a trap for him, with that poison. I thought he would attempt to poison me, and prepared countermeasures for such.”

“So… you knew who it was the entire time,” Qin Su says, because that’s easier to focus on than the fact her husband was fully prepared to get poisoned. At least he hadn’t intended for Rusong to be poisoned, but… but… “Why… why have you been pretending you don’t? Who is it?”

Jin Guangyao pauses once more. “...A-Su,” he murmurs, “I will take care of it. You should focus on Ru-”

She jerks up to glare at him fiercely. “Stop- Stop keeping me in the dark! I am not something fragile, I am not someone who will shatter like glass! I married you knowing what kind of man you are and I can handle it! ” Jin Guangyao – Meng Yao – was a Wen spy. She is not a foolish woman who does not know what that means, what that could entail, what deeds he may have committed that make his own sworn brother survive them. She knows this! She is not foolish!

The way he regards her… he does not seem to believe any word coming out of her mouth. She is ready to argue once more when he opens his mouth. “A-Su… I’m sorry,” he says. “This… started some time ago.”

And then he speaks, and Qin Su regrets every word.

Of a conversation with her mother, and the torturous information shared with him. The knowledge that she was already pregnant, and that nothing could be done about it – that the options were to cast her off to be made a fool of, to lose everything as society stepped all over her, or to marry her anyway. How he could have told her, but he didn’t wish to break her heart, since it would have made no difference. How he hadn’t touched her after he learned that awful truth, how he loved her but not in the way he did before he knew that, excuse after excuse and explanation after explanation and horrible word after horrible word.

She sits there, numb. Jin Guangyao’s hand has migrated from her shoulder to hold one of her hands, his thumb gently rubbing across her knuckles. She wants to tell him to stop touching her, but she can’t make words come out of her mouth. “It… came to my attention after your mother’s death that… Qin Cangye may have been told of what happened. I planted bait to see if this was true. Although I did not precisely determine his actions correctly, it seems this was the case.”

This means her father – who isn’t her biological father, who has no blood relation to her – found out what happened, and tried to kill her son. Her Rusong. Who is the son of two- two-

She manages to find her voice and whispers softly, “You are certain?”

Jin Guangyao sighs slightly. “I’m afraid so. The use of this exact-”

“Don’t touch me.” Qin Su jerks back, away from him, and he lets her go. She is regretting every single moment of feeling dismissed, of feeling hurt, over not knowing his secrets. And yet, here she is, still upset over not being told them? She wishes- She wishes-

She wishes none of it were true.

Qin Su feels sick to her stomach. She feels ill. Years ago, she and Jin Guangyao had… but they hadn’t known… And now her father, who isn’t her father… Certainly isn’t her father if… if he wants to kill Rusong…

Rusong, oh, Rusong…!

She weeps bitterly, right there on the floor, and Jin Guangyao sits near to her but does not touch her. They are so close that she can feel the heat of his body, but he does not touch her, and she weeps as her whole world shatters into tiny, tiny pieces. Qin Su wants to accuse him of lying, wants to shake him and scream into his face, but why would he ever lie about this? Why would he ever make her want to believe this? There is no convoluted plan she can think of that would make this make sense, and her father had acted strange after her mother’s death, but she had just chalked it up to grief and not something like- something like-

When her tears have finally stemmed, she manages to croak out the words, “Are you going to kill him?”

“...Yes,” he says. She can feel him gauging her without even looking at him, feels him judging if this will break her.

“Good,” she says. If he tried to kill Rusong, Qin Su cares not.

There’s a long moment of quiet. She doesn’t know what else to say. There is one dreadful thought left that she can’t bring herself to voice, but she forces it out of her throat. “You… killed Jin Guangshan,” she says. It’s not a question. “It was… after I gave birth to Rusong, when I was ill. Is that why you married me?”

She understands the logic in marrying her, even knowing what happened. Qin Su wishes he would have told her, but also wishes she had lived blissfully for the rest of her days never knowing, and the contradiction makes her feel ill. She wishes her mother had taken the secret to her grave, and yet understands why she could not, why seeing such a horrid thing before her caused the truth to spill from her lips. Qin Su blames no one but Jin Guangshan in this situation, truly, though she is upset with everyone as well and thinks her upset should be forgiven.

But… had Jin Guangyao ever loved her? Had marriage with her been a means to secure his spot as heir? Jin Guangshan was killed so shortly after their marriage and Rusong’s birth that Qin Su was still recovering, was almost on the verge of dying from complications, before it had been apparently Wen Qing that saved her. It causes her pain that she still cares about this, even after all the revelations.

Jin Guangyao is quiet for so long that Qin Su looks up, and sees him glaring at his fists, curled on his knees, with a fierceness she rarely sees him display. “...You were dying, and I asked Father about utilizing Wen Qing to save you,” he says. “He refused. I revealed the truth that I knew, of… us, and he laughed and still said no.” Jin Guangyao looks up and meets her eyes.
“I had to kill him, to save you.”

Such an answer should be horrifying, that it happened as such, but Qin Su is ashamed of the relief she feels. She has more tears in her, it seems, and she lets him touch her this time.

Despite everything, Qin Su asks Wen Qing if she can test for blood relations between people. Jin Guangyao offers up his blood willingly, but Qin Su doesn’t tell Wen Qing who the other blood came from. She confirms they are half-siblings, and asks no further questions, simply holds Qin Su as she weeps, for she had been hoping beyond all hope that it was a mistake, a lie.

Rusong improves, bit by bit, drawing pictures to send to Jin Rulan and regaining the ability to run and driving Qin Su more and more happily crazy each subsequent day. (Quietly, Qin Su asks Wen Qing if Rusong is… fine, in both his development and health. She manages to refrain from more tears when Wen Qing tells her that he’s fine.)

Qin Cangye dies, and Qin Su attends his funeral like a dutiful daughter, her newly-well son and her husband at her side. She wears a white sash to mourn, and leaves Rusong with Su Minshan when she goes to speak to her husband in private, a few days afterwards. “...You should invite Jin Rulan to spend some time here,” she tells him. “Rusong will need the company.” Rusong was never too close to Qin Cangye, so he’s not overly upset, but he misses his cousin regardless.

Jin Guangyao doesn’t seem surprised at the statement. “I will,” he says. “You’re going with her, aren’t you?”

She inclines her head. “Wen Qing and Wen Ning have someone to visit. Er-ge doesn’t need to know about them, but he will welcome me.” Going for a reprieve among the Lans after her son’s brush with death and her father’s subsequent real death will not be looked at as strange by anyone. She just needs to get… away. Get away, and sort out her feelings. Get away, and learn what comes next.

He smiles, just slightly. It’s not fully real. He has his fake smile perfected, but Qin Su still feels like she knows when he’s faking it – though perhaps she is lying to herself. “Very well,” he says. “Please… write me, if you are able.”

Qin Su exhales. “I… think I will. At least once.” Nothing confidential, nothing about this, but… she will. She will. Qin Su lets him squeeze her hands just once, and then she returns to Rusong and Su Minshan’s side. She explains to Rusong that she will be going on a trip, but Jin Rulan will come to see him – he’s not too bothered. Frankly, he is probably pleased to see less of her for a bit, given all the time they have spent together.

Then, she straightens and looks at Su Minshan. “Take care of him, won’t you?”

He looks a little surprised, and then settles. Perhaps a little mulish that she told him to, but also relieved at her words. He has always treated her well. “Of course, my lady,” he says, and she leaves them be.

Her final stop is to descend into the dungeons. It’s not a place she’s ever frequented – nor a place she ever thought she’d enter. There’s a quiet murmur of voices down here, one familiar and one not. Qin Su follows the sound, and watches as Wen Qing fusses over Wen Ning. He truly is a fierce corpse – truly the walking dead. He towers over them both, his skin pale and terrifying, his clothes ragged and wearing chains that Wen Qing fusses with as she begins to pull them off.

He notices her first. Wen Ning’s face doesn’t move much, but his body stiffens, and then relaxes. “You must be… Qin Su?” he asks. His voice is softer than Qin Su expected. Wen Qing had told her of a gentle soul, and she’s beginning to think that it wasn’t a biased sister telling tales.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Qin Su says, and means it honestly as she steps forward to join them. Wen Qing wrenches the last chain from Wen Ning’s wrist and he stretches, feeling his full range of movement.

“Let’s get out of this horrid place,” Wen Qing says. She offers one hand to her brother, who takes it easily, and then she offers one to Qin Su as well.

She blinks, and then takes it. Her hand is warm. “Yes, let’s,” she says. A horrid place indeed. And she leads the Wens up and out to the first sun they’ve felt in years.