Reading Time: 101 Minutes

Title: Twin Patriarchs of Yiling
Author: MeyariMcFarland
Fandom: The Untamed
Genre: Drama, Family, Fantasy, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Kid!fic, Suspense
Relationship(s): Lan Wangji/Wei Ying, Lan Wangji/Original Character, Lan Wangji/Wei Ying/Original Character
Content Rating: R
Warnings: Major Character Death, Murder, War, Discussion-Incest, Discussion-Rape, Discussion-Child Sexual Abuse, Discussion-Child Sexual Trafficking, Violence-Graphic, Discussion-Violence Against Children
Beta: Chiara
Word Count: 98,830
Summary: After Mama and Baba died, Wei Ying thought he could take care of himself, but winter was coming, and the wind had gone cold. The feral dogs were getting bolder, and Wei Ying had nowhere to stay safe. He just… needed help. When the terrified scream rang out, Wei Ying didn’t hesitate. Even if he didn’t have help, he could maybe help someone else and that was almost as good. Turns out, yeah, it was as good, in ways that Wei Ying couldn’t have seen coming.
Artist: Silver Dragonfly

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24. Love

The three of them landed as one at the base of Koi Tower’s many, many ridiculous stairs. Ying stared upwards, making a face at the place. He’d heard Koi Tower called “The Golden Tower” before and he’d assumed that it was because the Jin always wore their gaudy golden-yellow robes.

He hadn’t expected it to be because Koi Tower was gilded.

Literally covered in gold in so many places. Peonies all over the walls and at the end of the bright blue-glazed tiles covering the roof and the many ramparts. Gilded detailing on the doors of the tower. Gilding on the stairs themselves, off on either side in bright shining stripes that highlighted the edge of each stair.

“Hm,” Lan Zhan hummed, eyes widening a fraction in surprise.

“What?” Gang asked while visibly counting up just how much gold they’d wasted on decorations instead of spending to increase defenses or to feed the people in town that relied on them.

“They’ve dramatically reduced the gilding,” Lan Zhan said.

Ying gaped. “…This is reduced?”

“Much,” Lan Zhan confirmed with a nod and a little shrug.

“Wow,” Ying said slowly. “That’s… wow.”

“I can’t imagine how bad it was before,” Gang agreed. He grimaced. “We’d best get up there. The stupid conference shouldn’t start without us.”

Even though they’d only gotten the invitation to the discussion conference because Lan Xichen had sent a messenger to warn them specifically. No one from the Jin had sent a message. Neither had Jiang Fengmian, Nie Mingjue or Bo Muye, but from Lan Xichen had said in his message, none of them had been invited either.

Hard to call it a proper discussion conference if most of the Great Sects and over half the smaller sects weren’t invited.

Inside, Koi Tower was the exact opposite of everything Ying had grown up with. It was big. It was loud. It was gaudy to the point of making both Ying and Gang wince. And it was full of people who stared at the two of them with horror while giving Lan Zhan looks like they pitied him.

Lan Zhan predictably bristled at everyone.

“If you will please state your business?” the servant at the door asked while looking at them as if he was silently pleading with them not to kill them.

“Lan Xichen informed us that there was a discussion conference,” Gang said in his sternest voice. “He also informed Nie Mingjue, Jiang Fengmian and all the other sect leaders who weren’t invited properly by the Jin. You’ll want to let Sect Leader Jin know he’s about to have more guests. We won’t be staying in Koi Tower, of course. We have rooms in town.”

The sheer insult of that made the servant gape and the watchers whisper urgently among themselves, but it got them past the doorway and into the big, heavily gilded audience chamber where the so-called discussion conference was just getting going.

“Wangji!” Lan Xichen called, beaming as he stood and hurried over to hug Lan Zhan. “I’m glad you made it so quickly. How has Yiling been?”

“Good,” Lan Zhan said, patting Lan Xichen’s back fondly and then pulling back as quickly as he possibly could.

“Wei Gang, Wei Ying,” Lan Xichen continued in that same bright, cheerful, delighted voice even though his smile had a brittle edge to it and his eyes were far too tight, “it’s good to see you. How is Yiling doing?”

“Just fine,” Gang said, laughing as he got a hug, too. “Too much mail, too many lectures from Elder Entai, just like always.”

Ying enthusiastically hugged Lan Xichen, getting a real laugh instead of the pretend one. Lan Xichen gave very good hugs, so he was more than happy about it. Of course, by the time they let go, Jin Zixun was there with an ugly sneer and fury in his eyes that wasn’t even a little bit hidden.

“How dare you invade Koi Tower?” Jin Zixun snapped at Ying and Gang. “It’s it bad enough that you’ve ensorcelled Lan Wangji?”

“They have not!” Lan Zhan snapped right back at him.

“Are you still mad about Bo Zixuan not getting assassinated?” Ying asked as Gang, Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen all puffed up with outrage. “Come on, he’s just settling down to be furen. Give him a break.”

“Wait, what?” Jin Zixun asked, mouth dropping open as he shook his head. “Furen? Zixuan?”

“Wait, really?” Lan Xichen asked in much the same stunned tone of voice.

Around them, even the servants turned to stare at Ying. He wasn’t really surprised that no one knew about it yet. Bo Muye and Zixuan had both asked Ying to keep it quiet until the next discussion conference. Fake conference or not, this counted in Ying’s opinion, so it was time to let everyone know that Zixuan was never going to come back to the Jin again, no matter what anyone offered.

“Mhm,” Ying confirmed with his brightest, most obnoxious smile that made everyone want to punch him back home. “There was so much blushing. So much blushing! Bo Muye just put it right out there that he wanted Zixuan as his furen, and Zixuan thought about it for maybe a count of three before agreeing to be courted. Took them less than a day to decide to get married. They’re actually kind of cute together.”

Of course, the really great part was that Zixuan turned out to be a highly effective furen. He admitted freely that he was terrible at politics, terrible about talking to people and dealing with treaties and things, but he’d learned enough from his mother and his best friend Mianmian to be able to manage the inner affairs of a sect with a deft hand.

The Bo Sect was small, which helped. The town was pretty much all relatives and friends of people in the sect, which helped more. And Zixuan’s earnest awkwardness was endearing to everyone there instead of embarrassing or pathetic the way it had been in the Jin Sect.

Zixuan was happy. Bo Muye was delighted with his help and not very quiet about how much he liked Zixuan as a spouse, you know, in bed, so it had worked out really well there.

And, better still, it derailed whatever plots Jin Zixun had put in place to ensure that he couldn’t be replaced by the original heir to the Peony Throne.

A wave of murmurs swept around the audience hall. Ying ignored them for the most part though the ghosts that had taken on spying on Jin Zixun appeared briefly up in the rafter to give Ying delighted grins. Apparently he’d just scuttled one of Jin Zixun’s plots.

Hopefully scuttled anyway. Ying didn’t have much hope that Jin Zixun would give up on eliminating everyone who might be competition for his place as Jin Sect Leader.

“What do you think you’re doing holding a discussion conference without the Great Sect leaders?” Nie Mingjue boomed from the entryway.

“That’s an excellent way to start another war,” Jiang Fengmian agreed while sternly frowning at Jin Zixun.

About twenty other sect leaders marched in on their heels, including Bo Muye who came over and nodded to Gang, smiled at Ying and then scowled at Jin Zixun.

“I did not bring my furen specifically because I don’t trust you,” Bo Muye announced before Jin Zixun could do more than open his mouth with looking like he wanted to start shouting more accusations. “I will not be spending the night in Koi Tower. I will not drink your wine. I will not eat your food. Let’s get this stupidity over so I can go home.”

More waves of murmurs, this time with a lot of people glancing at Jin Zixun’s beet-red face. More seats and little tables brought in. Lan Zhan sat with his brother which made Ying unhappy, but it was appropriate. He and Gang ended up seated next to Jiang Fengmian again, though Gang had his own little table with carefully done calligraphy that identified him as the Yiling Wei sect leader.

No one else had that label.

Lan Zhan stood up, walked over and took the label. He pointedly glared at Jin Zixun who was glaring hot death at Ying and Gang again. Then Lan Zhan walked over to one of the torches and burned the label.

“Inappropriate,” Lan Zhan said to the ringing silence.

He sat back down with a pointed glare at Jin Zixun that said, “try me and see what I’ll do next time.”

“We’re here to discuss the problem of the Yiling Wei Sect,” Jin Zixun announced through gritted teeth.

“There is no problem with the Yiling Wei Sect,” Lan Zhan countered before Nie Mingjue or Jiang Fengmian could even open their mouths.

“They’ve clearly influenced you!” Jin Zixun huffed. “You’re never this rude.”

“You were not important enough to be rude to,” Lan Zhan said in such a cold tone that Ying was mildly surprised that nobody’s breath puffed into clouds as they exhaled in shock.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen said as he put a restraining hand on Lan Zhan’s arm. “You are being a bit rude to Sect Leader Jin.”

“No,” Lan Zhan corrected with a proper bow of respect to his brother and another glare at Jin Zixun. “I am being shockingly rude to the man pretending to be Jin Sect Leader. He is an usurper and does not deserve respect.”

This time the whole room went up in shouting, wild gesturing and people making overblown threats against Lan Zhan, each other and everything else under the sun.

It didn’t die down, either. As Jin Zixun tried to wave everyone to be quiet, then to call to them, then to shout them all down, the furor went on and on. The longer it continued, the angrier Jin Zixun got.

Across the aisle, Bo Muye was grinning as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, laughing the whole time at how completely Lan Zhan had derailed whatever it was that Jin Zixun had wanted to do with this mess of a discussion conference.

Ying leaned a little sideways to elbow Gang. “Wow.”

“I know,” Gang agreed. “Lan Zhan’s the best.”

They exchanged delighted looks and then went back to listening and watching the show. There was definitely more behind this little show than they knew, even with the ghosts watching Jin Zixun slaughter his way through the Jin Sect hierarchy. Which, actually, was kind of familiar from stories that Xue Chonghai had told them.

Because Xue Chonghai had created more than a few of his own problems. It wasn’t just the fix all the problems even though it offended the other sects thing. Or the way he put his people first and the rest of the world didn’t even count. Or even Xue Chonghai’s complete inability to handle politics in a way that preserved his sect’s righteous reputation.

The biggest mistake that Xue Chonghai had created for himself was treating every comment, every sarcastic quip, ever question or accusation against him as a deadly threat. He leaped straight into the middle of every single discussion ready to tear people apart for disrespect even when they weren’t actually being disrespectful.

And that was exactly what Jin Zixun was doing, over and over and over again with every single person he interacted with.

Yeah, no, Ying and Gang were not doing that. From the increasing red in Jin Zixun’s face, this whole mess was designed to point people away from what he was up to, not make them study every move he made in detail. Shouted, wildly gesticulating detail.

“Enough,” Lan Zhan said, silencing the whole room.

The silencing spell only lasted for a moment, but it was enough to stun the majority of the sect leaders and their followers into mumbling quietness. Not real silence, but close enough for Lan Zhan’s purposes.

“Thank you,” Jin Zixun said with an attempt at the same smarmy confidence that Jin Guangshan was so good at employing.

He failed. Badly, completely and with an air of unhidden fury and desperation that made Ying bit his lip so that he wouldn’t start cackling. From the way Nie Mingjue’s mustache started twitching, Ying wasn’t the only one who saw it.

“I did not do it for you,” Lan Zhan said while glaring at Jin Zixun. “Why are we here?”

Jin Zixun rolled his eyes. “It’s about time. We need to discuss the problem of the Yiling Patriarchs perverting the righteous ways of the–”

“Perverting?” Lan Zhan interrupted. “Like the Jin, you mean.”

His expression was so aggressively bored that it took a moment for Ying to realize that Lan Zhan had spent every single one of the meetings with Jin Guangshan watching Gang’s techniques so that he could replicate them at will.

“Oh, no,” Jin Zixun howled. He stabbed a finger at Lan Zhan. “You are not pulling that crap on me! I saw what that monster did to my uncle. I will not put up with it.”

“…Too bad,” Lan Zhan said slowly, precisely, while boring a glare straight through Jin Zixun’s forehead. “Because I will not let you lie about my fiancés.”

“They use demonic cultivation!” Jin Zixun bellowed, complete with a thump of his fist against his throne’s arm.

Ying held a hand up, wincing a little when everyone turned to stare at him, including Lan Zhan whose eyebrows were doing the “do you think that I need help with this idiot” dance.

“Um, just a minor correction,” Ying said, dodging Gang’s swat at his shoulder. “We didn’t do demonic cultivation. That’s where you raise the dead and use them as a weapon against their will. What we do is the Ghostly Path. That’s working with willing ghosts and dead who have already been raised by someone else so that we can purge their resentment and set them to rest.”

“Same thing,” Jin Zixun snapped at Ying.

“No, it isn’t,” Nie Mingjue interrupted before Lan Zhan could level another broadside against Jin Zixun. “It’s the opposite of demonic. They don’t create resentment. They disperse it, eliminate it. They don’t dig up the dead. They put them back in the earth. And even you have to admit that the Purification thing they do is as far from demonic as its possible to be.”

Jin Zixun glowered at Nie Mingjue. “I don’t have to admit any such thing. Who knows what long-term effects there are? Or short term, for that matter.”

“I know,” Bo Muye offered. “Short-term, anyway. Our harvest is a good seventy percent bigger than it normally would be. The hauntings we had in town are all gone. There’s no signs of resentful energy anywhere.”

“Agreed,” Jiang Fengmian declared. “We’ve had the longest exposure and we’ve seen only good things from their work.”

“Wrong,” Lan Zhan said, capturing everyone’s attention again, even Jin Zixun who pointed at Lan Zhan triumphantly as if Lan Zhan would ever say a single thing that would support Jin Zixun’s side of things. “The place with the longest exposure to their work is Yiling. After several months living there, I can say that their work only improves the spiritual, physical and emotional health of those affected by it.”

The other sect leaders started murmuring amongst themselves, looking awed and a little hopeful. At least until Jin Zixun glowered at his allies. Then they went all sternly disapproving for just as long as Jin Zixun glared at them.

“You have no proof of that,” Jin Zixun snapped. “None of you have proof of it.”

“You have no proof that they are a danger or doing anything inappropriate,” Lan Zhan countered. “Show us what you have, if you dare.”

“I’m a sect leader!” Jin Zixun huffed, cheeks finally going a little pale.

It was like he’d only just realized that he couldn’t order other sects around and expect them to do anything but be annoyed at him. From the rising muttering, the other sect leaders had been following Jin Zixun’s lead for his gold as much as because they actually believed anything he said.

The next shichen was…

…kind of gut-wrenching, actually.

There were so many parallels to the stories that Xue Chonghai had told Ying. Every little story, every slight, every rumor was treated as absolute truth. Nothing that Ying or Gang said did any good. It felt like opening their mouths at all just made people believe the opposite.

Or, more accurately, it felt like the smaller sects beholden to Jin Sect money believed only the worst on little to no evidence.

The other sects, led ably by Bo Muye, started backing up Lan Zhan every time he took on one of Jin Zixun’s wild claims and baseless demands to “bring the Yiling Xue Sect to heel.” Like they were doing anything that deserved to be brought to heel for.

“We need to help as many of the small sects as we can,” Ying signed to Gang.

“Agreed,” Gang signed back. “Just need to figure out what they need and how to give it to them without seeming like we’re buying them off.”

Jin Zixun stabbed a finger in their direction. “See! They’re doing it again! Casting their evil magic over us.”

Ying stared at Jin Zixun, blinking rapidly. “We’re… twins. We have a sort of twin-speak sign language.”

“A likely story,” Jin Zixun sneered.

“Wei Furen said,” Lan Xichen said with the sort of disapproving primness that he must have learned from Lan Qiren, “and I quote, “We need to help as many of the small sects as we can.” Then Sect Leader Wei said, and I quote, “Agreed. Just need to figure out what they need and how to give it to them without seeming like we’re buying them off.” It’s sign language. Based on the Lan sign language. Which my brother and I taught them. Lan Qiren gave them a dictionary of wider gestures to use.”

“I always forget that you know it,” Ying said, blushing brightly at the way Lan Xichen laughed at him. “No one in Yiling knows it so it’s our private little language to comment on stuff to each other. You know, usually.”

“My apologies,” Lan Xichen said, dimpling at Ying and Gang who was laughing into his fist. “I assumed you wanted the Lan to know, given the signs you used.”

Ying shrugged. “It’s fine. I mean, I just didn’t want to make it seem like we were behaving like him.”

He jerked a thumb in Jin Zixun’s direction, setting off another wave of howling outrage from Jin Zixun and a bunch of squawks of protest from the smaller sect leaders under him. The interesting thing was that the squawks weren’t as loud as he would’ve expected and the curious, hopeful looks were a lot more widespread than he would have thought they’d be.

Maybe they had a chance of surviving this whole mess after all.

The key looked to be getting the other sects to trust them despite how different their techniques were.

And getting rid of Jin Zixun as quickly and as cleanly as possible, which wasn’t going to be easy at all.

 

 

25. Trust

Two days of discussion conference and Ying was just about ready to go full on Xue Chonghai at the end of his life at everyone. Seriously, did they have to be so gullible? So willing to accept anything said by anyone with no evidence at all?

“I wanna go home,” Ying groaned at Gang as he flopped face-down into the bed that they’d been sharing.

It was probably intended as some sort of insult on Jin Zixun’s part. Like they wanted separate beds. They were brothers, yeah, but they’d slept together since they teamed up to be twins. Not sleeping in the same bed was way worse than anything Jin Zixun could dream up.

Their suite was small, just a sitting room and the bedroom. That was fine. They were close to the kitchens which was apparently supposed to be another desperate insult of some sort, but Gang had lit up with delight when he realized where their room was. The first morning, way before any of the other sect leaders other than Lan Xichen woke up, Gang had dragged both Ying and Lan Zhan off to the kitchen to beg recipes out of the cooks while Lan Zhan made tea and Ying chattered about making pickled radishes with a little old granny who was so much like Elder Entai that they might have been siblings.

She’d had the most amazing spicy radish pickles that Ying had ever, ever eaten. He was so making some when they finally got to go home.

Jin Zixun had had a fit about the kitchen visit later. He’d had a fit about almost everything that Gang and Ying had done, even just sitting quietly reading books that they’d borrowed from Lan Zhan out in the garden where anyone could see that they weren’t doing anything.

The man had issues. So many issues.

Ying knew what most of them were. The ghost girls had already filled Ying and Gang in on all the molestation and rape that Jin Zixun had gone through. He’d been through a lot. Unfortunately, instead of all the horrible experiences making Jin Zixun more empathetic to other people, he’d taken his abusers as models for his behavior so now he was an angry, violent, abusive man to everyone around him.

No rape that the girls could find, but lots of everything else.

And they had to go have dinner with Jin Zixun again.

“It’s just one more night,” Gang sighed as he collapsed to the bed next to Ying. “We should be able to handle that, right?”

Ying groaned again. “I hope so. I just want to spend time with Lan Zhan. All these other people are annoying.”

“You mean Jin Zixun is annoying,” Gang said. He thumped Ying’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get ready. Better to be early and hear all the gossip than not.”

Which was true enough that Ying only sighed sadly three times as he got up and got ready. They’d both gotten better at all the formal robes, but it was way easier to help each other than it was to do it by themselves. Better still, tonight Gang matched Ying’s hairstyle to his own topknot which meant they had the chance of switching roles during the dinner.

“Are we going to?” Ying asked, grinning at Gang in the cloudy bronze mirror.

“Maybe,” Gang replied with a grin of his own. “I’m really tired of being Gang, honestly.”

“We can swap for the night if you want,” Ying offered with a look over his shoulder at Gang. “I don’t mind taking it for one night. I mean, it’s mostly going around talking to people at this point and I’m better at that than you are.”

“True,” Gang said. He snorted and wagged his eyebrows. “Of course, that would mean that I got to hang off Lan Zhan’s arm and flirt with him all night.”

“I’ve had three nights of it,” Ying said gallantly. “You deserve a night of flirting with Lan Zhan. You know how much he enjoys us switching around.”

Gang laughed but it was true.

And honestly, playing the role of Gang made the evening way better than Ying had expected. Instead of people staring at him with censorious disapproval for flirting with Lan Zhan, he got to talk about trade and the Purification array while laughing about Lan Zhan doting over Ying.

Gang looked a lot better, too, which was wonderful. He’d spent so much time frowning during the discussion conference that Ying had been afraid that the wrinkles around his eyes, mouth and between his eyebrows were going to be permanently etched. Laughing with Lan Zhan who looked pink and pleased with the attention smoothed it all away.

“You shouldn’t let your fiancé flirt with someone else,” Sect Leader Yao told Ying as if he was imparting wisdom instead of repeating what a thousand different people had said over the last few days.

“My fiancé enjoys spending time with Ying,” Ying responded with Gang’s thunderous frown. “I’m certainly not going to forbid them from interacting when it brings them both joy.”

Sect Leader Yao huffed as if Ying wasn’t getting the point.

Ying held up a hand to ward off whatever nonsense Sect Leader Yao wanted to spout. “I’m not hearing it. You may have no faith in your family and your wife, but I have faith in both my twin and in Lan Zhan. Besides, that has nothing whatsoever to do with the discussion at hand. Please don’t be so rude. We were having a serious discussion.”

“Thank you,” Sect Leader Ng said with a frown of his own at Sect Leader Yao. “As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted with nonsense, you truly wouldn’t want payment for the Purification array?”

“We’re a small sect,” Ying said. “Money is always good, but trade agreements and connections are far more important for us. Money only lasts until you spend it. A good trade deal will support us for years to come.”

“So true,” Sect Leader Ng said. “Well, we certainly could do with more of those heating tiles that come from Yiling. The potter there said he couldn’t produce them in mass.”

Ying nodded. “We set up a deal with him years ago and had to limit the number he made due to worries that Wen Ruohan would kidnap him. Also due to the capacity of his kiln. We can discuss changing it with him, but I suspect that Cho Dahong will want to keep it at the current levels. He’d find it terribly boring to do the same thing all day every day. He’s ah… whimsical, to put it mildly.”

“I heard that,” Sect Leader Ng said, snickering and firmly ignoring the way Sect Leader Yao huffed at them. “My agent came away convinced that most of the designs on his pots were purely because they were pretty.”

Ying laughed despite himself. “They are! Maybe five percent of the designs are for arrays or specific purposes. The rest is just what looks pretty and makes him happy at the moment. Still, it’s probably possible for Ying and me to make a batch of tiles ourselves. It will take a bit longer and the tiles will be from the Yiling black clay, but they’ll work just like a normal one.”

By the time Sect Leader Yao flounced off to complain to other people about their life choices, Ying had reached a tentative agreement with Sect Leader Ng to supply two hundred heating tiles in exchange for ten bushels of brown rice from the next harvest. The Purification array would happen when they exchanged tiles for rice.

He chatted up other sect leaders, getting tentative deals for fabric and non-spiritual iron and fine porcelain clay, dry of course, and a dozen other things over the course of the dinner and the following drinking.

Through it all, Gang stuck with Lan Zhan who stayed with the Lan delegation.

Amusingly, the Lan seemed determined to surround Gang with a wall of white, keeping anyone from asking him questions or throwing accusations his way. From the bits and pieces that Ying overhead while drifting by, Gang and Lan Zhan were plotting out a new array for purifying the soil of salt with Lan Xichen’s help.

“You can go separate them,” Nie Mingjue murmured when Ying’s fingers twitched for a brush and some paper.

“Separate them?” Ying asked, blinking at him. “Oh! No, no, it’s just that I have some ideas about their proposed array, and I wanted to join in the discussion. But, you know, politics. Have to go and talk to people.”

Nie Mingjue sighed like he’d sprung a leak. “I know. Why do you think I’m talking to you?”

“To avoid listening to Jin Zixun’s increasingly bitter complaints about no one taking him seriously?” Ying suggested with a grin and wagging eyebrows.

At the beginning of the evening, Jin Zixun had been surrounded by smaller sect leaders echoing his complaints and flattering his righteousness and intelligence. Now, as the evening wound down and the majority of the sect leaders reached the point of sloppy drunkenness, Jin Zixun sat alone with his wine.

Mostly alone. Ying could feel four ghosts surrounding Jin Zixun, plus a handful more who’d set about following Jin Zixun’s allies to make sure they weren’t plotting against Ying and Gang.

He looked miserable. Bitter and angry, but in that inward-turning way that Gang got when he was beating himself up for making stupid mistakes. Ying hummed and shook his head.

“What?” Nie Mingjue murmured.

“He’s going to do something stupid because of this,” Ying predicted in a soft murmur that wouldn’t carry beyond the two of them. “If we’re rising, he has to be falling. That’s the way he sees things. So he’s going to have to do something to make us fall so that he keeps his status. It’s so stupid.”

“You don’t see it that way?” Nie Mingjue asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

Ying snort-laughed. “We’re a farming sect. We live with the seasons. You grow in the spring. You cultivate and build during the summer. The harvest in the fall predicts the decline and hard times of winter. It’s the cycle of life. That’s how everything works. Most cultivation sects are too cut off from the rhythms of life. The rise and fall happens naturally, all on its own. It’s got nothing to do with anything else.”

Nie Mingjue stared at Ying. So did the half dozen other sect leaders who were in the area around them. Ying hadn’t exactly kept his tone low.

“That’s not how most people see it,” Nie Mingjue said.

“No, it’s not,” Ying agreed. “Doesn’t make it less true. Rising tides and falling tides are part of life. You take the good while it lasts and try to plan for the bad times. Sometimes it works and everyone survives. Sometimes it doesn’t and spring brings funerals with it. That’s just life. There’s no need to get all… plotty about it.”

He bowed to Nie Mingjue and wandered off to spend the remainder of the night creating new arrays with Lan Zhan and Gang. Lan Xichen wasn’t as good at coming up with wild ideas, but he was very, very good at getting the wild ideas written down in a clear, logical manner.

Better still, he was perfectly happy to let Ying and Gang test their newest purification array on his teacup, since they’d diverged from removing salt from the soil into removing poisons from fluids about halfway through.

“And… it’s all clear,” Gang said with Ying’s bright grin as Lan Xichen’s cup glowed a lovely soft blue.

“One would hope so,” Lan Xichen said, lips twitching with amusement. “What would happen if it was poisoned?”

“Let’s see,” Ying said. He waved to Nie Mingjue’s doctor who’d been watching over Lan Xichen’s shoulder. “Can you give us a toxic substance that would dissolve in tea?”

“Absolutely yes,” Nie Qiulian said as he fished a little vial of something reddish out of his sleeve. “Let me dose this up. It’s fine in small amounts but becomes toxic if you put in too much.”

Apparently the line between medicine and poison for that particular drug was four drops. Three was safe. Four was not.

This time when Ying did the array, focusing hard on making sure that the tea was safe for Lan Xichen, the cup glowed red. It blinked slowly, like a lazy, relaxed heartbeat. Every blink, the red got dimmer and dimmer until the red slowly turned purple, then indigo and then finally on until it was blue.

“Okay, is the medicine still in there or did it strip all of it out?” Ying asked as he passed the cup back to Nie Qiulian.

Gang held his breath, clutching Lan Zhan’s sleeve just the way Ying wanted to. Ying made sure to keep a sternly curious look on his face even though he was vibrating with excitement at the potential.

If it stripped the medicine out entirely, well, hey, a way to remove poisons from fluids. If it left a reasonable dose of the medicine, hey, a way to make sure that you never overdosed on your medicine. Both were good.

“Huh,” Nie Qiulian said as a slow grin spread across his face that transformed it into a maze of delighted wrinkles. “That’s interesting.”

“Medicine left or not?” Ying asked.

A significant number of the people not-listening into their testing held their breath right along with Ying. Gang held his breath, too, openly and obviously because he was being Ying right now and he could. Interestingly, Lan Zhan sucked in a short breath and held it, too, which said something about how tense the moment was.

Nie Qiulian, being the mean old doctor that he was, grinned as he stood there with everyone’s eyes on him. While not saying anything for entirely too long.

Ying made a strangled noise in his throat while gesturing at the cup impatiently.

Lan Xichen huffed at the same time, so Ying didn’t even have to feel bad about failing to embody proper sect leader dignity.

“There’s a correct dosage of the medicine in it,” Nie Qiulian said.

“Is it the correct dosage for someone Lan Xichen’s size, age and cultivation level?” Ying asked as his grin bloomed to match Nie Qiulian’s.

Gang made squeaky noises while shaking Lan Zhan’s sleeve, earning a pat on his hands and a fond smile from Lan Zhan.

“It is,” Nie Qiulian confirmed. “Let’s do some more tests.”

By the time they all got shooed out of the hall by the Jin servants, they’d managed to work out that you had to set the intention when you activated the array. If you just activated, it stripped all toxins out. Amusingly, for tea that meant you ended up with a cup of plain hot water. For alcohol, it meant you ended up with a cup that had no poisons or toxins, but also no alcohol in the wine, which wasn’t exactly the most useful thing in the world.

“Unless you’re a Lan who gets pressured to drink all the time,” Lan Xichen said with such a delighted smile that Ying couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s lovely.”

If you did the array while setting the intention for a particular person, with knowledge that there was medicine, the array worked amazingly well to remove just enough of the medicine that the dose matched that person. And when a doctor did it, it was even more precise than when a random cultivator did it.

“We are giving this one away before the discussion conference ends tomorrow,” Ying said to Gang as they meandered off to their suite after saying goodnight to Lan Zhan and the others.

“Oh, absolutely,” Gang agreed. “That’s exactly the sort of thing to give away.”

Jin Zixun was going to loathe it. And them.

Everyone in the Jianghu would have a sure-fire way to make sure that they weren’t drugged, poisoned or lured into drunken stupidity. They could protect themselves and their people, quickly and easily. Especially since they’d already confirmed that arrays put into the glaze of ceramics were effective over and over and over again with just a little push of qi.

In a matter of months, every potter in the Jianghu would be using Ying and Gang’s array to make special safe cups, bowls, and plates. Maybe safe spoons, too. Woodcarvers would be able to add it to chopsticks since it wasn’t exactly a big array.

And the entire Jianghu would know that it was something that the Yiling Wei sect came up with randomly one evening and gave away freely, to benefit them all.

As they got ready for bed, Ying told Gang about all the tentative deals he’d negotiated. Gang started off nodding absently, then stopped to frown at Ying, and then started snickering as Ying kept piling more deals and more deals and more still onto the stack of work that Gang would have to do once they got home.

“Just going right out there and allying us with every single small sect in the Jianghu, aren’t you?” Gang asked as they cuddled up for the night. What little was left of it.

“Absolutely yes,” Ying agreed completely seriously because this was a serious matter. “More allies is good. Trust is good. We just need to figure out a way to handle Jin Zixun’s… whole thing.”

“Ugh, tomorrow,” Gang groaned. “I’m too tired to think about him tonight.”

They flopped on the bed together. Ying yawned as Gang manhandled him into the proper position to be the small spoon to Gang’s big spoon, which felt just about perfect to Ying after the last few days.

“Agreed. My head is too full to hold up anymore.” Ying sighed and let himself relax next to Gang.

There was still a lot that needed to be done to escape Xue Chonghai’s fate, but maybe they could do it after all. If they could just get everything in place in time, even Jin Zixun wouldn’t be willing to strike against them.

Maybe.

 

 

26. Respect

Ying dropped his head to the table, groaning as the daily chatter of the teahouse washed over him. If only the chatter was real water drowning him. Then he wouldn’t have to answer even more letters and even more pleas for help.

They just wouldn’t stop coming. Bags after bags of letters full of people asking for the most heart-wrenching things and the most annoying things and sometimes both at once. Leading a sect was awful. Ying wanted to go back to inventing things all the time while hiding from the world. It was easier, if much scarier.

“Stop being lazy,” Gang scolded Ying while poking the back of his neck with his brush.

Not the wet, ink-stained end, at least, though if Ying didn’t sit up that would inevitably happen. Ying had only just gotten the last round of ink off his neck, so he grumbled as he lifted his chin and stared at the bag of mail that had just been delivered.

“I was too successful,” Ying complained while making sad eyes at Gang and Lan Zhan. “Look at this. Look at it! The letters never stop.”

Lan Zhan’s lips twitched as he hummed. Not a “yes, I agree” or a “you’re being ridiculous, Ying” or even a “don’t be silly” hum. That was Lan Zhan’s “wish we were in private” hum.

The last couple of weeks had been… exciting… on that front, at least. Ying wasn’t sure what had prompted Lan Zhan to be open to sex, but once he’d opened that door, Lan Zhan had strode right through it as though sex was the only thing he wanted to do with Ying.

Well, not really. Lan Zhan obviously loved Ying. Wanted Ying safe and happy and well-fed. But he also very obviously enjoyed figuring out every single sound he could prod out of Ying with his dick. And fingers and tongue and anything else that came to hand.

Gang and Lan Zhan hadn’t yet taken their relationship further than some kissing and a lot of quiet time together. According to Gang, Lan Zhan was very restful and comforting.

According to Ying, Lan Zhan was a sexual demon who would gladly fuck Ying right through the bed, the floor, any available walls and who was making a valiant effort to fuck Ying through the cave walls now that he’d been given access to the Sanctuary. Not that Ying objected, really. He didn’t. At all.

Better fucking like bunnies than dealing with all the mail and people begging for help.

There were so many people out there who needed help.

“What have the other sects been doing?” Ying huffed as he shook the small mountain of letters out of the sack. “This is ridiculous. Why haven’t any of the other sects taken care of this stuff? Isn’t that what they’re supposed to be doing?”

“No,” Lan Zhan said. He raised an eyebrow when both Gang and Ying stared at him. “It isn’t. The Sects do not fix irrigation systems. They do not help with harvests or making pickles. They certainly do not set up new wells which are guaranteed not to be poisoned. Only you do that.”

“Well, they should do it,” Ying complained. “I mean, we made the poison array free for everyone to use. We taught everyone how to create preservation cabinets that really work. We licensed out our method of making qiankun pouches so that they can harvest faster and with less damage. And really, irrigation is just digging lines and then paying attention to the ditches over time.”

Lan Zhan shrugged and nodded. “True, but you are still the first sect leaders to care what happens to commoners.”

And that was the real problem, wasn’t it?

Ying honestly hadn’t thought that claiming they were a farming sect during Jin Zixun’s stupid fake discussion conference would have this kind of impact. Instead of being reviled as monsters practicing demonic cultivation who were out to eat people’s babies, they were being hailed as the best of the Jianghu, pure and saintly and perfect in every way.

“Should’ve charged more,” Gang said as he helped Ying sort through the latest stack of letters.

“A lot more,” Ying agreed. “Darn it, we’re going to have to set up a school or something. Find some way to train a bunch more people in the safe stuff. Leave all the dangerous stuff to inner sect members only.”

“Could work,” Gang said thoughtfully. “We’ll have to be careful about who we train for what, but it’s a good thought.”

Lan Zhan hummed while frowning his “I’m mildly puzzled” frown at Gang.

“What?” Gang asked.

“A school?” Lan Zhan said, blinking twice as if the concept was beyond him.

Which wasn’t that odd, really. The Lan had their guest lectures but that was for specifically chosen and approved sect members, chosen by their originating sect and approved by the Lan. As far as Ying can tell, no one has an actual school that’s just, you know, open to whoever wants to attend.

“The stuff we’d teach them isn’t really dangerous,” Ying explained. “Purification beads and spells, arrays to settle the dead and heal the earth. They really can’t hurt anyone, and they can help everyone. So if we set up a school and teach people how to do it, then lots of people will be happier and healthier. It’s a good thing all around.”

“Hm.” Lan Zhan nodded slowly but he still frowned.

“No fussing,” Gang said, wagging a finger at Lan Zhan while picking up another letter. “It’s just in the idea stage. You can throw daggers at the idea later. We’ve got mail to worry about.”

He scowled at the letter in his hand, tossing it to Lan Zhan who read it, scowled, and set it into the “respond to as rudely as possible” pile.

“Or not,” Gang grumbled. “Some of them are too stupid to learn.”

All the letters in that pile that Ying could see were decorated with Jin peonies. And really, a bunch of rude letters that never seemed to stop was way better than they had any right to expect. Jin Zixun was still methodically murdering his way through his sect, taking out anyone who used to be Jin Guangshan’s crony, anyone who raped or hurt the servants or women in town, and, worryingly, anyone who challenged him in any way.

Which, you know, included both Ying and Gang.

And Lan Zhan.

Who still was making a point of being as rude as possible to Jin Zixun. That was why the stack of letters from the Jin sect were next to him. Ying kind of thought that he should do something about. You know, find a way to make Jin Zixun be a decent human being or convince Lan Zhan not to be so rude to him, but he hadn’t figured out anything that would work.

Neither of them would change. Ever. They were both far too stubborn for it.

So he eyed Lan Zhan’s pile of letters and left it alone.

When he and Gang headed out on their next trip to help people who needed help, Lan Zhan headed back to Gusu to visit. It was safer that way. And, actually, he really did need to go home from time to time.

“Be careful,” General Kwan scolded Ying and Gang as they packed their stuff up. “It’s still unsettled out there.”

“Oh, we know,” Gang agreed. He shook his head. “But the thing is, every single one of these trips we make helps.”

“We’re not looked at like demons anymore,” Ying agreed. “I mean, people are taking us for granted, but they’re not looking to hunt us down.”

General Kwan scowled. “Other than the Jin.”

“I know,” Ying sighed. “I really wish I knew what to do about that guy. I mean, Zixuan doesn’t want to go back, ever. There aren’t any cousins or uncles or aunts or anything left. He’s killed them all, every single one in Jinlintai.”

“Suzhi reported that that one son, from the prostitute?” Gang said, grimacing when Ying nodded that he remembered the man. “Jin Zixun’s assassins caught up to him. They killed both Meng Yao and Mo Xuanyu who he’d “kidnapped” from his mother’s home. They were running for the Joseon peninsula together. Apparently someone warned Meng Yao that everyone related to Jin Guangshan was doomed.”

“Okay, that’s just wrong,” Ying complained. “How old was Mo Xuanyu? I don’t remember him.”

“Barely a toddler.” Gang scowled. “Jin Guangshan had to have sired him just before the Sunshot Campaign started. His mother was all of fifteen or sixteen or something. Supposedly, Mo Xuanyu was killed “accidentally” in the fight. Meng Yao killed all but two of the attackers before he was cut down.”

Ying stared at Gang who looked ill at the thought of it. Justifiably! What a mess. Who would target a literal toddler for death? And why? It wasn’t like they would’ve been threated to Jin Zixun’s position. They were leaving. He could’ve just ignored them both and nothing would have come of it.

“All right, we have to do something about Jin Zixun,” Ying said firmly enough that even Gang nodded like Ying was the sect leader instead of him. Though, you know, he had taken on all of Gang’s posture and tone of voice. “General Kwan, get the ghosts busy. Find all his secrets. Send Lan Yitian to talk to the Yu. They know a ton of secrets and they’ll talk to her more than anyone else.”

“On it,” General Kwan said. “Talk to the other sects while you’re out. They have to be aware of what’s going on. Hopefully.”

As it turned out, most of the other sects weren’t actually paying attention to Jin Zixun’s murder spree. They were too busy rebuilding, harvesting for the winter and building up their resources.

Oh, and throwing potential concubines at Ying and Gang in hopes of getting an in with the Yiling Xue sect.

“Absolutely not,” Gang said to Bo Muye and Bo Zixuan. “We’re not going to be introduced to any of your nieces, cousins, aunts or other eligible young ladies. Don’t try it.”

Who blinked at them innocently despite the smile trying to break free on Bo Muye’s lips. The marketplace in the Unclean Realm bustled on around them, no one paying them very much attention. It was a nice change from their normal visits to other areas. Sure, they had an honor guard of four of the Yiling army on their heels, plus about twenty ghosts flitting around, but no one stared or whispered or begged for mercy when they spotted Gang and Ying’s black, grey and red robes.

Bo Muye and Bo Zixuan got a lot more looks, highly amused and indulgent ones since they’d been there for a few days for Bo Muye to shower presents on his furen, much to Bo Zixuan’s embarrassed delight. Apparently, Bo Muye had brought Zixuan purely because he wanted to show off his new husband. And to buy some nice treats for Zixuan who spent most of the time blushing as he ran a hand over the lovely gold bracelet set with rubies that Bo Muye had commissioned for him.

It had so many wards on it. So many! Bo Muye was really serious about both the spoiling and the protecting of Zixuan.

“We’re marrying Lan Zhan and they don’t take concubines,” Ying agreed. “Besides, your cousin is a very nice girl who’s desperately in love with another very nice girl. Let them marry each other. Don’t split them up.”

They’d encountered Bo Muye and Bo Zixuan in the Unclean Realm marketplace after receiving a letter from Nie Huaisang asking if they could come work on the saber issue a bit more.

“I thought they were just friends,” Bo Muye said, frowning.

“No,” Gang said. He shook his head. “They’re not. You’re really bad at seeing cutsleeves for a person who’s a cutsleeve.”

“That’s just Zixuan,” Bo Muye said with a wave at Bo Zixuan as if it was completely unsurprising that someone would fall head over heels for him.

“No, it’s really not,” Ying said as he laughed and elbowed Bo Zixuan who was redder than his ruby bracelet and making pleased little spluttering noises. “He’s so cute. You’re so lucky, even if he is an idiot.”

Bo Zixuan laughed while rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m used to people saying that about me.”

“You’re not an idiot!” Bo Muye protested immediately and loudly enough that the guards on the gates started snickering into their sleeves. “You’re just not great at social situations. Which isn’t surprising given the mess you grew up with. When every single thing you say could get you assassinated, anxiety is the least you should expect.”

“So true!” Nie Huaisang sang out before Bo Muye could launch into the fifth round of his rant on how terrible Bo Zixuan’s upbringing had been and how amazing Zixuan was for having survived it more or less intact. “Thank you for coming, Sect Leader Wei, Wei-Furen. I didn’t expect to see the two of you, though, Sect Leader Bo, Bo Zixuan.”

“We met them in town and kind of got dragged along,” Bo Zixuan said with a helpless little shrug.

Nie Huaisang grinned. “That does happen with the Yiling Xue sect, doesn’t it? Well, come in, come in. We’ll be glad to feed you at the least. There’s plenty, always. And it’s good to see you anyway. You’re looking so well! Your new husband must be taking very good care of you.”

Nie Huaisang’s blatant fishing for salacious gossip carried them from the gate, up into the audience chamber where Nie Mingjue looked confused to see all four of them, and then off to the library where Nie Huaisang threw himself onto a padded stool while fanning himself as if he was exhausted by all of that.

Bo Muye wasn’t wary at all as he sat opposite Nie Huaisang. At least, not until he noticed how the rest of them slowly eased into the table while watching Nie Huaisang like he was about to bite.

According to Lan Zhan, Nie Huaisang did bite, and he was very sneaky about it.

According to Lan Xichen, that had all happened when Lan Zhan and Nie Huaisang were tiny little kids. Neither of them had ever let the grudge go, which meant that visiting the Unclean Realm was going to be very interesting once they married Lan Zhan.

“What?” Bo Muye asked.

“He’s just a little too dramatic about the exhaustion,” Bo Zixuan said, grimacing when Nie Huaisang pouted. “I mean, look at him. He’s up to something.”

“Really?” Bo Muye asked as he turned to frown at Nie Huaisang. “I don’t see it. Why are you two so…?”

“Well, we’ve heard stories from Lan Zhan—” Ying started.

“He started it!” Nie Huaisang immediately interrupted. “I only ever bit back. He started the biting every single time.”

“Uh-huh, and the syrup?” Gang asked, amusement wrinkling the corners of his eyes even though he kept the rest of his face nicely impassive.

“I don’t know anything about syrup,” Nie Huaisang said. He fanned himself while staring out the window.

“Okay, I’m beginning to see what you’re talking about,” Bo Muye said. “Still don’t know what’s going on.”

Nie Huaisang sighed as if he was deeply disappointed in Bo Muye instead of fondly amused and quietly approving of the way he treated Bo Zixuan. Ying had heard through the ghosts all about how romantic and delightful Nie Huaisang thought their relationship was.

Of course, Ying thought that their relationship was sweet, too, though not as wildly romantic as Nie Huaisang did. The way Bo Muye doted on Bo Zixuan was adorable. So was the way Bo Zixuan blushed and fidgeted happily every time Bo Muye did something nice for him.

They really were cute together.

“So, how’s the opera going?” Ying asked, just to see how Nie Huaisang reacted.

The fan went flying in the air as Nie Huaisang jerked so hard that he toppled his stool over backwards with a clatter and a yelp. Gang peered over the edge, laughing under his breath. Bo Zixuan looked horrified. Bo Muye, as always, looked confused.

And Ying waited, grinning, for Nie Huaisang to peek over the edge of the table.

“You know about that?” Nie Huaisang hissed.

“Well, sure,” Ying said. He laughed at the dramatic huff Nie Huaisang tried on him. “Come on. You’ve been bragging about it to everyone in the Unclean Realm who’ll stand still to listen. Of course the ladies were curious. They’d love to hear it when you finally stage it.”

“Uh, you’re not writing romantic operas again, are you?” Bo Zixuan asked. He’d gone a little green about the gills, to the point that Bo Muye took his hand and patted it solicitously.

“About the two of you,” Ying said even as Nie Huaisang tried to shush him. “The girls think it might even be halfway decent, if nowhere near accurate.”

Even Bo Muye looked horrified by that.

The argument that followed was loud enough and long enough for Ying and Gang to slip away. They sought out Nie Mingjue who looked like he was halfway thinking of going to the library to break up the fight.

Nie Mingjue’s face was a bit too pale and the bags under his eyes looked like bruises. Fresh ones.

“You look terrible,” Ying said. “What have you been doing?”

“Just the normal things,” Nie Mingjue grumbled. Baxia grumbled along with him. “Huaisang’s horrible opera keeps giving me a headache. There’s this whistling bit that goes right through my skull every time.”

“…Is there?” Gang asked as he exchanged a look with Ying.

Nie Mingjue frowned. “What? That’s significant?”

“Both you and Baxia are close to a qi deviation,” Ying said as he carefully pulled the roiling resentful energy out of Baxia. “You shouldn’t be this bad, not when we cleaned Baxia out right after the war. There hasn’t been enough time.”

“Where’d he get the music for his opera?” Gang asked.

Nie Mingjue frowned before shaking his head. “From what Huaisang said, he got the bits and pieces of it from some random pages of music he found in Jinlintai during that last discussion conference. They were stuffed into other books.”

“That Nie Huaisang just happened to open and find,” Ying said, scowling at Gang who huffed and shook his head.

“Let’s go find those pages,” Gang said. “Because they’re deadly given how you’ve reacted to them, which means that this is part of Jin Zixun’s plot to take his “rightful place” among the Great Sects.”

 

 

27. Revelations

Could you call it a discussion conference when all the Great Sect Leaders but one, plus a handful of the lesser sect leaders including Sect Leader Yao, came together to discuss how the odd one out was working to assassinate them all? Or was it just plotting? Ying wasn’t sure.

What he was sure of was that Jin Zixun was a lot brighter than anyone suspected. And a lot more vicious. The pages that had given Nie Huaisang his ideas for his romantic opera had come from Meng Yao, the prostitute’s son of Jin Guangshan. Meng Yao had apparently stolen them from Lan Xichen when he was on the run after Wen Ruohan burned down the Cloud Recesses.

There was some complicated bit of time where Lan Xichen sheltered with Meng Yao after the Cloud Recesses burned and before Meng Yao got thrown out of the Nie who he’d joined at some point after Jin Guangshan threw him down the stairs at Koi Tower. Probably the theft happened before Ying and Gang had emerged from Yiling to start a war against the Wen that Meng Yao had, apparently, been thinking about joining on the Wen side.

For reasons.

Because that was apparently a reasonable and logical sequence of events. Ying was pretty sure that there were some bits that various people didn’t want looked at closely, including Lan Xichen whose smile got very, very fixed whenever someone asked how Meng Yao managed to steal books from him when he’d specifically run away with the most powerful books in the Lan library. You know, to keep them safe from anyone stealing them.

Lan Xichen’s careful accounting was no less piecemeal than Nie Huaisang’s or Nie Mingjue’s regarding the inspiration for the opera and the kicked out of the Nie bits respectively.

Bo Zixuan, who had been invited along with his over-protective and doting husband Bo Muye because he’d been a Jin and knew Jin Zixun, was refreshingly blunt about his father kicking Meng Yao down the stairs in that he’d been suffering through a Jin party at the time and only heard about it six months later fourth-hand.

Anyway.

When Jin Zixun had Meng Yao and Mo Xuanyu murdered, he’d taken everything they had on them. That included the torn-out pages. He’d then apparently understood them well enough to realize the danger of them, took the most dangerous of the dangerous bits, and plunked it down in a bouncy song that caught Nie Huaisang’s interest instantly when he heard it during an awkward meeting between Nie Mingjue and Jin Zixun at Koi Tower.

Said meeting had been for no good reason other than, apparently, for Jin Zixun to complain about taking the throne too young for people to give him respect. Which Nie Mingjue had met with stone-faced glares and single-word replies.

Except that the real reason had apparently been to tempt Nie Huaisang with a whole manufactured story behind the bouncy, deadly song that Jin Zixun had created. And tested on a variety of lesser Jin cultivators, killing them very dead with qi deviations in short order.

Given that Nie Huaisang had intended for the opera to be played all over the Jianghu, specifically to sect leaders by low-level cultivators who could use their qi in music to carry the meaning more effectively through the music like Ying and Gang and the Lan did, and that the dangerous bit was woven through the opera in multiple places, it was remarkably dangerous.

“He actually encouraged you to repeat the refrain?” Ying asked for the sixth time.

“Yes!” Nie Huaisang complained, throwing his hands up and huffing in dismay. “I’ve told you this before!”

“I just had no idea that he was this smart,” Ying said with a huff. “He seems so stupid, and this is just… brilliant.”

Gang smacked Ying on the shoulder. “Attempting to murder people with music isn’t brilliant.”

“No, not that,” Ying protested while rubbing the spot Gang had hit, even though it’d been a really soft hit that hadn’t hurt at all. “The way he wove a story for Nie Huaisang and the whole thing of wrapping the introduction of it into a meeting with Nie Mingjue. It’s… it’s deft. Careful. Surgical precision hitting exactly the right places in just the right ways. Now I’m questing just how real every single interaction I’ve had with him is.”

The other sect leaders, and Lan Zhan, paused. They exchanged disturbed looks before methodically picking through all of their interactions with Jin Zixun. And yeah, they’d all had carefully calculated encounters with Jin Zixun that left them thinking less of him but doing things that would undermine their sects while strengthening the Jin.

At something like three-times-remove. It wasn’t that Jin Zixun arranged for them to have the precise bit of information that would make a different sect look like a threat. Jin Zixun just happened to be there when the information was revealed and then he was a jerk about it in ways that made everyone believe it without checking any further. Or when someone betrayed an oath or broke a contract or whatever it was.

Over and over and over.

“I have told you that Jin Zixun isn’t as stupid as he seems,” Bo Zixuan commented mildly enough that it was all but a shout that they’d left themselves open for it. “I’m the stupid one, you know. Jin Zixun was always excellent at playing the game. He never got in trouble, no matter what plots he got involved in. I always did.”

“You’re not stupid,” Bo Muye protested immediately while squeezing Bo Zixuan’s hand. “You’re just not good at social situations.”

“My point,” Bo Zixuan said, leaning into his husband’s shoulder with a little smile. “Either way, you’ll have to do something about him. The plots are probably staged to go on for decades and they’ll affect every single sect.”

“Is there any way that we can tie all of this back to Jin Zixun?” Ying asked.

“…Not directly,” Gang said slowly. “I mean, we can. Our ghosts have reported on every bit of this. We just didn’t connect all the pieces together until now. But that doesn’t do any good.”

“No, wait,” Ying said, wagging a finger at Gang as the other sect leaders, especially Sect Leader Yao, frowned. “That’s not true. Lan Xichen, the Lan have a way of talking to ghosts, don’t they? Lan Zhan said something about the ghosts not being able to lie.”

Lan Xichen’s eyebrows went up. “We do. It’s called Inquiry. We’re able to question the ghosts and they cannot lie when they respond. You do have to be careful about wording, but it’s very reliable and can be verified by having multiple people question the ghosts.”

“Excellent,” Ying said. He grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Jin Zixun is creating all kinds of dead. A lot of them, and I do mean the majority, have died with regrets and resentment. Our ghosts aren’t reliable—”

“They’re certainly not!” Sect Leader Yao snapped.

How Sect Leader Yao had gotten invited was a mystery that even the ghosts hadn’t been able to figure out. As far as Ying could tell, Sect Leader Yao had the ability to tell when people might be having a conversation that needed his opinion, no matter where he was or what he was doing.

“According to certain people,” Ying continued as if Sect Leader Yao hadn’t interrupted. “Anyone that the Lan question with Inquiry is different. What about Meng Yao? I doubt Mo Xuanyu would be helpful, if he even stayed after his death, but Madame Jin and Luo Qingyang are still around. There’s dozens of cousins, aunts and uncles among the Jin who died and who could be questioned.”

Gang nodded slowly. “And then we sent them onwards?”

“And then we ask them very nicely if they want to go onwards or if they want to make sure that Jin Zixun goes down instead of destroying the Jin further.”

Bo Zixuan frowned as he leaned more firmly into Bo Muye’s arms. “But who will take over the Jin? I won’t. I refuse to ever go back there.”

“I don’t know,” Ying said. “But why does it have to be someone of that specific bloodline? Why can’t it be whoever the strongest Jin disciple is? The best teacher? The Elder who’s least corrupt and most liked? Let them pick who would be the best to lead them out of the mess. Why’s it our business either way?”

Ying really should’ve expected that Sect Leader Yao would go up in flames at the thought that his opinion wasn’t vital to any discussion. The sad part was that even Bo Muye looked a bit upset about not being part of the decision.

But really, why was it their business? Either the Jin would find a new leader who could take the sect from the cesspit it had become, or they would fall apart, and some other sect would rise to take the place as the fifth Great Sect. Or maybe no one would become the fifth and there would only be four Great Sects.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Wen Qing, the Wen Sect’s highly reluctant new leader. “It is what you did with us, after all.”

“But you’re part of the bloodline even if you are a woman,” Sect Leader Yao complained.

“Only officially,” Wen Qing said, glaring at him while fingering her silver needles as if she was thinking of inserting them in very painful places. “My branch of the Wen broke off more than two hundred years ago, before Wen Ruohan was born. He was my uncle by declaration, not by adoption or by blood.”

“There!” Ying exclaimed. “There’s precedent.”

“Precedent to have any ruling family removed from any sect,” Jiang Fengmian said thoughtfully.

“Why is it better for the sect to be ruled by blood rather than by talent?” Gang asked before Ying could say it. “The Yiling Xue sect doesn’t follow bloodlines. We’re so very not related to Xue Chonghai, and no one’s commented on it yet. A Sect should have the best leader, not the one who happened to be sired by a specific person.”

That argument looked like it was going to be fought at every single discussion conference for the next several centuries, but Ying didn’t much care. It was still a valid point.

Whoever took control of the Jin Sect, it wasn’t their problem to solve unless they were going to be the ones to clean up the mess. And when he said exactly that, not one single sect leader would meet Ying’s eyes. Not even Gang.

Lan Zhan wouldn’t meet his eyes, even though he looked quietly proud of Ying for shutting the whole nonsense argument down.

The next full day was spent listening to teams of Lan senior disciples get entirely too much practice using Inquiry. Lan Zhan volunteered to help but he was deemed by Sect Leader Yao to be too partial to the Twin Patriarchs to be reliable.

Ying was kind of surprised that Lan Xichen hadn’t stabbed Sect Leader Yao on the spot, but it wasn’t too surprising. Wen Qing got there first.

“I’ve had quite enough of you,” Wen Qing said as she shoved Sect Leader Yao back into his seat. The silver needle on the back of his neck kept Sect Leader Yao from speaking or moving on his own. “You’ll sit there and be quiet for a quarter shichen. When I let you go again, you’d best consider your words, or the next round will last a full shichen.”

Sect Leader Yao did not, in fact, cause trouble after he was freed from Wen Qing’s needles. He, along with Ying and Gang and everyone else, was too busy being horrified by all the things the Lan discovered.

Or rediscovered since the girls had already reported back on it all to Gang and Ying.

Listening to it all from the people who’d been killed, beaten to death, driven out and then assassinated once they thought they were safe, and all the rest was still horrifying. Just frustrating in that no one would take Ying and Gang’s word for it all.

But then wasn’t that part of what had doomed Xue Chonghai? He’d tried so hard to be all answers to everyone, safety and power and defense and offense, that he’d scared the heck out of the Jianghu of the time. Scared people made stupid choices.

All Ying had to do was look back at his early experiments with Gang to see that. They’d done some truly horribly dangerous stuff while too scared to think straight. What if General Kwan and the others had been normal resentful dead? They would’ve been torn to pieces. The pinecones they’d set alight to throw at the dog-yao pack could’ve set their tree on fire with them in it.

There were dozens upon dozens upon dozens of points where they were too afraid to think straight. Every single choice they’d made at those points had been stupid. They’d gotten so lucky so many times.

And right now, the entire Jianghu was too upset and frightened by Jin Zixun’s sneaky plots and deadly actions to think straight, just like Gang and Ying had been. Not a good thing for Jin Zixun.

But also not a good thing for Gang and Ying because the moment one danger was eliminated, the fear would drive them to look for another and another and another.

Fear, once raised, didn’t subside easily. You got twitchy, always seeing threats lurking in the shadows. It took years and years to relax again after you’d been traumatized that badly. And the Jianghu as a whole had been horribly traumatized by Wen Ruohan. They were all primed to hunt down and eradicate anyone that they decided was a threat to their existence, no matter whether that person deserved it or not.

First it was Wen Ruohan and Jin Guangshan. Then it would be Jin Zixun. In the near future, no matter how many nice things they did for the Jianghu, it could be Yiling.

It could be Ying and Gang destroyed despite all their effort to make a safe home for each other to share.

“He must be destroyed!” Sect Leader Yao exclaimed.

“No!” Ying said, slapping his palm to the table in front of him and Gang.

“Wait, what?” Sect Leader Yao asked, blinking at Ying.

“Wait, what?” Gang asked, blinking just as hard.

“He shouldn’t be destroyed,” Ying said as he stared Sect Leader Yao down. “He’s not Wen Ruohan. He’s an abused child who was raped repeatedly. He’s been beaten, passed from grown man to grown man like a prize. He’s entitled to be afraid that people will do it to him again. It’s no surprise that he’s trying to eliminate every single person who could ever have power over him. It’s what I would’ve done back before we found Xue Chonghai’s work.”

“Oh…” Gang breathed; eyes wide as all the others stared at Ying in horror. “Oh, yeah. Wow. You’re right. It is logical when you look at it that way.”

“…I do not understand,” Lan Zhan said.

He took Gang’s hand and squeezed it while staring at Ying with obvious concern. Well, obvious to Ying, anyway. Other than Lan Xichen and Gang, no one else probably saw it.

“We were street kids,” Ying said both to Lan Zhan and to Sect Leader Yao. “Yiling when we were little had… hah. Well, there were two flower houses. The one by the docks was a place where the girls went in, but they never came back out until they were in a coffin.”

Sect Leader Yao flinched.

“The other one had only a handful of girls,” Ying said, “and the Madame treated them well. They married out. Other girls joined, worked for a while, and eventually moved on. Every street kid understood that there were places it wasn’t safe to go. The locals, the people who’d lived in Yiling for generations were okay. But the people by the docks were dangerous. The dock workers and the bandits, the thieves and the creepy men who would offer to give you candy if you’d just come with them quietly; they were dangerous.”

“Ying and I watched each other’s backs,” Gang agreed as he leaned into Lan Zhan’s side. The whole room was quiet. “The creepy guys almost got us at a couple of points, but we managed to escape. There were quite a few street kids who didn’t escape. There were street kids who got caught and who were later found dead. No one cared.”

Ying nodded. “Jin Zixun was treated like a street kid. He was abused, beaten and raped. Repeatedly. He was passed around like a girl in a flower house, one of the bad ones. It doesn’t excuse what he did. Nothing excuses that kind of murder. But he doesn’t deserve destruction.”

Sect Leader Yao sat down in his chair; hands loosely flopped over his thighs as he stared at the floor. Next to him, Wen Qing had tears in her eyes though she’d pressed her lips together so tightly that they were almost gone. Even Nie Mingjue looked like he wanted to cry. His hand cradled Baxia’s hilt gently, thumb rubbing over the pommel comfortingly.

“We need to address what Jin Zixun’s done,” Ying continued once he was sure no one else was going to speak up. “But I’m really uncomfortable with the idea of destroying him. Trial, yes. He absolutely should have a trial. Appropriate punishment, certainly. What he’s done is reprehensible and so very illegal.”

“He is not a monster,” Lan Xichen said softly. “He’s an abused child who became a violent and defensive man.”

“Exactly,” Ying agreed.

Nie Mingjue stood. He squared his shoulders, making himself look about as wide as a barn. Then he bowed with every bit of formality and honor to Ying and Gang.

Ying yelped. He couldn’t help it.

Then Lan Xichen stood and did the same. Wen Qing, Bo Muye, on and on until even Sect Leader Yao stood and bowed to the two of them with formal respect.

“The Yiling Xue sect is indeed something different,” Nie Mingjue announced once they all straightened back up after far too long. “Thank you for bringing us back to our honor, Wei Furen.”

“Um, you’re welcome?” Ying said, patting his burning-hot cheeks. “Let’s um, discuss how to go about this, okay?”

Gang rubbed Ying’s back, smiling proudly at him only to laugh quietly when Ying huffed and waved his hands at the others with all the dismay he had in him. It seemed to break the formality and tension, anyway, because Bo Muye grinned at Ying before suggesting that they send Jin Zixun a letter to invite him to a discussion conference and night hunt at one of the other Great Sects.

Ying scooted his chair back a bit so that Gang could take the lead. He’d had enough of everyone’s focus for a while. He could speak up again tomorrow or something. He was so very done with everyone’s eyes on him right now.

 

 

28. Justice

Nie Mingjue could throw an amazing party when he put his mind to it. Ying would have said that it was all Nie Huaisang, but there was too little opera and dancing girls in gauzy dresses for that. The Nie Discussion Conference had martial arts demonstrations planned, a lot of them, good food, even more of that, and every single sect leader in the Jianghu. Even the Yu had shown up for it which was like something out of a legend.

Popo Yu scowled at Ying when he stalked over while acting like Gang. “People believe that act?”

Ying barely managed not to grin. “Amazingly enough, they do. It’s the funniest thing ever. Sometimes we switch right in front of their faces and people just go with it.”

“Do they now?” Popo Yu said, mischief lighting up her eyes. “I knew they were all idiots.”

“All except Lan Zhan,” Ying agreed. “So. In my role as the official sect leader of the Yiling Xue sect, are you interested in heating tiles? Purification beads and arrays? We’re working on setting up a school for people to learn how to do it and I wanted to see if your people would like to learn it.”

Popo Yu hummed thoughtfully while studying the other people keeping a very wide distance from the two of them. She’d tucked herself away in a corner of the room, back to the grey stone wall. Ying was pretty sure that even an assassin creeping along the ceiling wouldn’t be able to get at her without Popo Yu knowing it.

“Can we take them and develop them into other things?” Popo Yu asked with the air of someone expecting a no.

“Absolutely yes,” Ying said. He smirked as she started and stared at him. “We’d appreciate a warning if you do, just an idea of what effects you created and what durations, but that’s all.”

“…Then yes, we would be interested,” Popo Yu said.

Ying knew the look of an inventor about to go off on a creative bender, so he drew Popo Yu over to their table where Gang was playing with purification arrays with Nie Qiulian and Lan Xichen. She joined right in despite the alarmed look on Lan Xichen’s face.

Jin Zixun watched it happen with narrowed eyes.

They were early in the morning on the first day of the Discussion Conference. Nothing serious would happen today unless Jin Zixun decided to pitch a fit about something. Then Nie Mingjue would accuse him of all the crimes they’d documented, and the trial would start right away.

By the time Ying had switched three times with Gang, Jin Zixun was twitching like he’d sat down on a hot iron. They weren’t going to make it to tomorrow, clearly. The ferocious scowl on Jin Zixun’s face had all the minor sect leaders slowly gathering into tighter and tighter clumps. They watched and waited with such obvious worry that Ying wanted to go reassure them that they would be okay.

Obviously, he couldn’t do that, but he wanted to.

None of the Great Sect leaders paid the slightest bit of attention to Jin Zixun’s increasingly bad mood. Not openly, at any rate. Wen Qing had a wary sort of look about the eyes even though she never showed a sign of it otherwise as she chatted with Jiang Yanli. Nie Mingjue kept himself busy scolding Nie Huaisang who complained extravagantly and loudly about having his opera cancelled for a ridiculous and pointless discussion conference.

Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan had slipped off to a corner of the room where they were standing a perfectly respectable distance from each other while radiating such suppressed lust for one another than Ying blushed every time he looked their way.

Anyone who claimed that they weren’t madly in love with each other, or at least scary and violent lust, was lying through their teeth.

And of course Lan Xichen had decided to play with Ying and Gang and Popo Yu making wild new talismans to help improve people’s lives. It was a good choice for him. He really wasn’t good at any kind of subterfuge. Even Gang was better at it than Lan Xichen.

Which meant that Jin Zixun sat alone at his table with his wine and his scowl that got pointed more and more towards Ying because Ying kept wandering off to chat with people instead of staying put the way Gang was. Since Jin Zixun’s anger rose to the point of flames nearly shooting from his ears, Lan Zhan had started shadowing Ying.

Which meant that when Jin Zixun finished off his latest bottle of wine, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth while glowering at Ying, Lan Zhan huffed and shielded Ying from Jin Zixun’s angry glare.

“Lan Zhan,” Ying said, laughing, “it’s okay. It’s just glaring. He can glare all he wants. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Rude,” Lan Zhan said, glaring right back at Jin Zixun.

“That’s just who he is,” Ying reassured Lan Zhan even though his skin tingled with the sheer murderous threat Jin Zixun pointed his way.

Jin Zixun stood.

The entire room went still and silent.

Jin Zixun smirked, deeply satisfied that yes, everyone was paying attention even if they didn’t let it show openly. He sauntered over on legs that weren’t wobbly at all despite all the wine he’d drunk. When he sneered at Ying, Ying just raised an eyebrow back.

“You won’t get away with it,” Jin Zixun announced.

Ying blinked at him. “Flirting with Lan Zhan? I “get away” with that all the time.”

“Trying to destroy me,” Jin Zixun said. “You’ve been plotting against me all morning. I’ve watched you making the rounds, spreading lies about me. You won’t get away with it.”

Ying tilted his head to the side. “Um, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but the world does not rotate around you. I’ve been inventing, asking people if they want to come to our school to learn to make purification beads and arrays, and flirting with Lan Zhan. You haven’t entered into any of it.”

Jin Zixun went purple, so abruptly furious that Ying took a startled step backwards. “Don’t lie! The fucking Yiling Wei sect has had it in for me ever since I took control of the Jin!”

“No, you inherited the monitoring from Jin Guangshan, actually,” Ying said. “It’s not personal. We’re monitoring every single sect and most of the civilian leaders, too. We’re a little bit paranoid, you know. Comes from living on the streets for so long.”

He let Lan Zhan push him back and away from Jin Zixun, hiding half behind Lan Zhan whose knuckles had gone white from his grip on Bichen. The mild tone seemed to infuriate Jin Zixun. So did hiding behind Lan Zhan.

Jin Zixun tried to step around Lan Zhan so that he could confront Ying directly. Lan Zhan held Bichen out, blocking his way so that Jin Zixun had to risk decapitation or back off. He glowered instead, pointing an accusing finger at Ying.

“Stop hiding! Are you a sect leader or not?” Jin Zixun shouted.

“Uh, not?” Ying said, blinking at him. “I’m Ying. That’s Gang over there standing up to yell at you.”

“No,” Jin Zixun said, head swiveling as he turned to stare at them in turn. “Absolutely not. I’ve been paying attention. You’re the one who invited Sect Leader Yu over. You’re the one who’s been talking to the small sect leaders. He’s the one who’s been sitting there doing nothing all night. He’s Ying. You’re Gang. You can’t fool me.”

“…I’m the verbal one,” Ying said slowly enough that Jin Zixun’s nostrils flared, and his hands clenched into fists. “Gang’s the one who hates talking to people.”

“You do realize they play twin tricks on people, don’t you?” Popo Yu drawled. Her smirk could be a distance weapon more deadly than spiritual bow and arrows from the way it made Jin Zixun stagger backwards, mouth gaping open.

“If talking and socializing is needed, he does it,” Gang agreed. “If decisions are needed, I do it. We are what we are.”

Nie Mingjue stalked closer, his temper like a blooming thundercloud draped over his massive shoulders. For a long moment, Jin Zixun didn’t seem to notice him coming. He was too focused on Ying and Gang and blaming them for everything.

Though what they could have possibly done personally against him, you know other than telling people about all the murder and assassinations, Ying had no clue.

“You stay out of it!” Jin Zixun snapped at Nie Mingjue. “They’re trying to destroy the Jin Sect. I have a right to confront them about it.”

“No, actually, they’re not,” Nie Mingjue said as he grabbed Jin Zixun’s wrist. “I am.”

Jin Zixun froze for one moment, just long enough for Nie Mingjue to start to twist his arm behind his back. But only for that bare blink of an eye. Then his face went white, and he fought back so hard against Nie Mingjue’s grip that his arm snapped. Jin Zixun didn’t notice it as he skittered backwards with his hand hanging at a distinctly wrong angle and his eyes too wide and too wild for him to be seeing anything in front of him.

Nie Mingjue gasped, horrified.

“No!” Ying said, grabbing Nie Mingjue’s arm and waving everyone else to stay back. “That’s a flashback. Don’t grab him.”

Not a long flashback, thank goodness. Jin Zixun had himself back under control in heartbeats, though he snarled at them all and glared at the Jin for not surrounding and protecting him. A couple of the senior Jin disciples made half-hearted efforts to get closer to Jin Zixun.

“No,” Nie Mingjue said, waving for the Nie to surround Jin Zixun.

All female Nie warriors, which seemed to calm Jin Zixun down dramatically. If it was Ying, he would’ve been way more nervous since the women were twice as tall as Jin Zixun and built just like Nie Mingjue. Said something about just what Jin Zixun had gone through that he felt better when surrounded by a hostile wall of women than he did when talking to his fellow sect leaders.

“Someone should set your arm,” Nie Mingjue said only to flinch when Jin Zixun looked down, grimaced and jerked his arm back into position.

“No,” Jin Zixun said as his arm glowed with the power of his qi. “I don’t trust any of you. You’re not doing anything to me.”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong,” Nie Mingjue said grimly. “Jin Zixun, you have committed grave crimes against your sect members, against the other sects, and murdered… entirely too many people to list right now. We are bringing you to justice.”

For one long, crystalline moment, Jin Zixun just stared at Nie Mingjue with his mouth hanging open. Ying had never seen someone that utterly and completely shocked before in his life. He would have thought that Jin Zixun was about to fall down; he was that stunned.

“…What the fuck?” Jin Zixun said as his face went ruddy. “What the fuck did you just say? You’re going to put me on trial? Me? You asshole, why didn’t you ever do anything about Jin Guangshan? He did things a thousand times worse than me, and you just fucking let him!”

Nie Mingjue’s chin came up as he glared at Jin Zixun. “He was a Great Sect leader—”

”So am I!” Jin Zixun howled at him.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Ying shouted as he pushed past Lan Zhan and got between Nie Mingjue and the circle of Nie warriors around Jin Zixun. “That’s a valid point, actually.”

“It really is,” Gang agreed as he came to stand with Ying. “Jin Guangshan really did do some horrible shit. Why didn’t anyone ever…? Oh. Right. The blackmail. That’s why.”

Ying snort-laughed, shrugging helplessly at Jin Zixun. “Well, apparently that was your mistake. You didn’t blackmail everyone.”

“Like the two of you?” Jin Zixun asked with a furious sneer.

“Oh, trust me,” Gang said as he touched his purity bead and made every single ghost in the room appear overhead. “If we wanted to blackmail people, it wouldn’t be hard. There are no secrets from the willing dead.”

Everyone in the room other than Lan Zhan shifted uncomfortably. Nie Mingjue frowned at Ying and Gang as if he was disappointed in them for not trusting him. Ying shook a finger at him, making Nie Mingjue take a startled step backwards.

“None of that,” Ying said. “We’re Xue Chonghai’s heirs. We, of anyone in the Jianghu, know what could happen if you show a weakness. Jin Zixun has been trying to protect himself in the only way he ever learned. How was he supposed to know that justice could be served to the people who abused and threatened him when no one ever punished those people or protected their victims?”

“You sound like you’re trying to keep me from being tried,” Jin Zixun said. Frowning as if Ying made no sense.

“No, I think you definitely need to be tried,” Ying said. “I just think you need to be treated fairly. There are reasons you did what you did. They were motives, yes, but it was still murder. And attempted murder. And a whole bunch of excessive punishment. I mean, motive is motive. Murder is still murder.”

Jin Zixun narrowed his eyes while rubbing his glowing arm. With ever stroke of his hand, the glow decreased. When it went out, Jin Zixun clenched his fingers, then extended them out and stretched them. A quick rotation of his wrist and he nodded.

Had he just healed a complex break with dislocation? Without setting the bone or checking for bone fragments? Ying turned to stare at Gang who was equally agog. Off on the other side of the room, Wen Qing had one eyebrow raised and a faintly surprised look on her face so yeah, Jin Zixun had just healed, practically without effort, something that should’ve taken months to repair.

That was either an incredibly brilliant example of how smart he was or an incredibly horrible example of how little care he’d gotten in his life. Probably both.

“So the question is whether or not the deaths were murder or justified homicide,” Jin Zixun said, standing straight and staring at Nie Mingjue. “And whether the discipline was excessive or not.”

“Well, there is the whole murder-song thing you set Nie Huaisang up with,” Gang said.

Jin Zixun blinked once, very pointedly, before looking right at Lan Xichen. “Given that the so-called “murder-song” was a Lan thing, and that Lan Xichen is the one who let a murderous kidnapping Jin bastard steal it, I’m not sure the Lan will want that discussed. Because he took a lot more than you think he did.”

“And that’s how you do the blackmail thing right,” Ying said, grinning at Jin Zixun.

“Besides, I only gave Nie Huaisang about two passages of the whole thing,” Jin Zixun said. “The only reason he heard it was that I was using it to weaken certain Jin Elders who won’t stop raping the servants. I needed something to weaken them. Nie Huaisang is the one who used a spiritual tool without knowing what it would do, not me.”

Ying flinched away from the howl of outrage that the Nie sent up for that. Across the room, Nie Huaisang went white as a ghost as he sagged in his chair. Which wasn’t that far different from Lan Xichen who looked a breath away from passing out where he sat.

The thing was, Jin Zixun wasn’t wrong.

He really wasn’t wrong. The Jin Sect as a whole was a terrible mess, full to the brim with horrible people doing terrible things to each other. Ying and Gang had been paying attention to the people being killed, you know, how many and what posts they’d held.

They hadn’t paid attention to why they’d been killed. Or what the rest of the people in the Jin, the servants and civilians and the junior disciples, thought about those who’d died.

“He has a point,” Ying murmured to Gang.

“Yeah, he does,” Gang agreed with a grimace. “Darn it all. Right, well, we’re going to have to get the Lan to question the murder victims on what they did to get murdered, I guess.”

“Mm,” Lan Zhan hummed, eyes locked on his brother who had started whispering urgently to Lan Xichen who also looked like might pass out in sheer shock at any moment. “I will help.”

“Good,” Gang said.

When Gang looked to Ying, Ying nodded firmly. One way or the other, this needed to be sorted out and something needed to be done to keep Jin Zixun from killing everyone around him. If that meant helping him clean the abusive rapists out of the Jin, well, so be it.

But Ying wasn’t at all sure that Jin Zixun didn’t deserve to be one of the people executed, too. Seriously, good motives didn’t stop it from being murder.

“Enough!” Gang bellowed, startling everyone into silence. “We won’t solve this by yelling at each other. Let’s set up for a trial. The Lan can use their techniques to question Jin Zixun’s victims on what they did and how they were killed. Our ghosts can testify under Lan questioning about what they saw. And the Jianghu as a whole can be assured one way or the other about Jin Zixun and his actions.”

Jin Zixun scowled at Gang. “Fine. But none of the rest of you are getting off easy. You’ve done horrible things, too, and if I’m going on trial, so are you.”

His glare was more at Ying and Gang than it was at anyone else, but it still made the other sect leaders shift in their seats. This was going to be…

…interesting.

 

 

29. Clarity

Xue Chonghai had been given a trial. He hadn’t attended it, having not been informed that it would happen, and he wasn’t told the results of his trial until he was dying on the swords of his enemies.

Ying and Gang didn’t have very high opinions of trials as a result of that. They seemed, from what Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen had been able to tell them during the setup for Jin Zixun’s trial, more like a fancy way to rile everyone up and set them against the so-called guilty party.

People got to accuse you of everything, and you weren’t supposed to defend yourself until way after everyone had already made up their minds. So Ying was poised at the ready when Nie Mingjue finally waved for everyone to sit down at their little tables while Jin Zixun stood in the middle of his fence of Nie warrior women.

Converting the banquet hall into a place for a trial had turned out to be too much work as far as Nie Mingjue was concerned. They’d all been herded out of the hall and into the looming audience chamber with its massive carvings on the wall behind his throne. Nie Huaisang had skittered away during the process, supposedly to make sure that the feast was properly cleaned up.

Ying didn’t think that Nie Huaisang was actually going to do that. Seemed more like Nie Huaisang was going to go off and gossip with everyone who wasn’t a sect leader, furen or senior disciple. Jiang Yanli had done the same, tugging Jiang Wanyin with her since their parents were already taking care of the trial itself.

In fact, pretty much all the sect leaders had sent their heirs and their disciples away. The audience chamber, which could hold so many people, echoed a bit once the sect leaders, their furen and first disciples were in their places, all with ample room around each little group.

And scribes. So many scribes. Ying hadn’t had a single clue that every sect leader had brought a scribe with them, but the scribes had materialized out of thin air as soon as the tables were set up.

“We don’t have a scribe,” Ying whispered to Gang.

“I’m… noticing that,” Gang agreed with a spooked little look at Lan Xichen who murmured to the young woman who was his scribe and to the very stern little old man who was Jiang Fengmian’s. “You’ll remember what happens?”

“Absolutely not,” Ying scoffed. “With my memory?”

“Fair,” Gang sighed.

Instead of a scribe, they set up the little “record the lesson so we can listen to it again and again” array that Xue Chonghai had taught them. It wasn’t perfect but it would record a full day’s worth of sound going on around it and rarely got too muddled unless something like twenty people spoke at the same time.

The recording was going to be so muddled. Ying could just see it already.

Either way, the audience chamber stilled as Nie Mingjue marched in with his two scribes on his heels. They settled down at the tables prepared for them, pouring prepared liquid ink from tiny bottles shaped like coiling dragons onto their inkstones.

Nie Mingjue sat.

He stared around the room, expression stern enough that Ying sat a little straighter. Amusingly, Sect Leader Yao did the same thing.

Jin Zixun did not. He scowled and slouched with his arms crossed over his chest defiantly.

“Let’s begin,” Nie Mingjue said with a wave of his hand to… Ying really wasn’t sure.

“Yes, let’s start by establishing some ground rules,” Ying said before anyone else could so much as twitch. He bounced right up to his feet. “I mean, the only trial that Gang and I have experience with is the show trial that Xue Chonghai had. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. It would be appropriate, in my opinion, to ensure that this trial is actually as unbiased as possible.”

“…Who’s side are you on?” Jin Zixun asked after staring at Ying in confusion for a long, silent moment.

Just like everyone else.

“That was my question,” Sect Leader Yao said while Nie Mingjue nodded his agreement.

“I’m on our side,” Ying said with a grim little mile that rocked Nie Mingjue back in his throne. “Mine and Gang’s. We’re the Yiling Xue Sect. Anything you do in this trial will eventually be done to us if we do one single little thing that the Jianghu as a whole disapproves of. This trial will be treated as precedent. And honestly, I truly do think that it’s inappropriate and unjust to fling wild accusations at someone without allowing them to defend themselves. Or at the very least present evidence in their own defense.”

“None of us are unbiased,” Gang agreed as he stood up to pat Ying’s shoulder so that Ying would sit back down. “All of us have something to gain or hide in this. We need to be careful about our methodology so that this doesn’t become a mob that then gets turned on one of us. Eventually any of us could be exactly where Jin Zixun stands right now.”

Jin Zixun shook his head at them. “You two are so weird. But obviously I accept that. On the other hand, I want people throwing the accusations to have to show their proof, too. They said I did something? Fine. Show everyone exactly how they came to that conclusion. Show everyone why that’s breaking a law, criminally unfilial, or shattering the collective good of the Jianghu. Then I’ll show my side of why I did what I did because none of you assholes have any idea how bad the Jin Sect was. And still is.”

Surprisingly, or perhaps not too surprisingly, most of the sect leaders abruptly looked much less interested in accusing Jin Zixun of anything. Which made sense. Ying was pretty sure that most of them had nothing but greed behind their desire to see Jin Zixun executed.

The lesser sects arrayed closest to the door shifted in their chairs, murmuring to each other as they studied the Great Sect leaders. Which, you know, was justified. It wasn’t the lesser sects that would decide Jin Zixun’s fate today. Jiang Fengmian, Nie Mingjue and Wen Qing would be the ones to decide if Jin Zixun lived or died, no matter what the majority thought.

That was just how power worked.

After a moment of studying his fellow lesser sect leaders, Bo Muye sighed as he levered himself to his feet with all the gravity and seriousness of an Elder with creaky bones. It looked a little odd on him, but he was so serious as he stared at Jin Zixun that Ying couldn’t bring himself to smile at the display.

“I’ll accept that,” Bo Muye said slowly, reluctantly. “Seems proper to me. Everyone knows my issues with Jin Zixun, of course, but how do we verify that what people say is true? My sect has no great abilities for truth-sensing or compelling.”

“The Lan can compel the truth from the dead,” Lan Xichen offered. “As this is a trial much-focused on the dead, it should be simple on that front.”

“Yeah, no, I mean the living,” Bo Muye clarified. “How do we determine if the people accusing and the people defending are telling the truth as they know it?”

Well, that was a good point. And one that should be reasonably easy to address. Ying looked at Gang who hummed thoughtfully. The two of them pulled out paper and an inkstick that Lan Zhan promptly came over to grind into liquid ink on the inkstone he pulled out of his sleeve.

“Seriously?” Jin Zixun exclaimed, complete with dramatic rolling of his eyes and throwing his hands up. “Is creating new arrays the only thing you two can do?”

“Nah,” Gang said with a huge grin that Ying mirrored.

“We also lean heavily into surveillance against everyone around us and swooning every time Lan Zhan does something amazing,” Ying agreed.

“…I hate the two of you so very much,” Jin Zixun muttered as he shoved past his ring of Nie guards and flounced over to sit with the rest of the Jin.

Who did not, actually, look that upset to have him back. A bit spooked. They eyed the other sects as if they expected to be swarmed at any minute, but none of the Jin that Jin Zixun had brought with him seemed like they were afraid of Jin Zixun.

That seemed… significant, actually.

Creating a Speak the Truth array took about a quarter shichen. It wasn’t complicated, as arrays went. They had six different sorts of arrays that would compel people to speak or not, or which would work on ghosts or yao or whatever. Setting it so that it would only require the person to speak truth and only when they freely decided to speak was the tricky bit. Popo Yu had some really nice little array bits that worked for the truth detecting part. Lan Xichen had a bit that worked for the only when you personally chose to open your mouth bit.

“Ha! Should work great,” Ying said as he charged the array up and smacked it against his own chest. “Ask me something.”

“What do you really think of Lan Zhan?” Jin Zixun said before anyone else could open their mouths.

“I can’t tell you about his dick in public!” Ying squawked. “That’s inappropriate! And obscene!”

Gang ripped the array right off Ying’s chest, blushing just as hard as Ying and Lan Zhan. And Lan Xichen. Bo Muye looked like he kind of wanted the floor to swallow him alive while Nie Mingjue muttered incoherently into his hands.

“No one asks questions wildly,” Gang ordered. “Or I’m asking every single one of you, including you, Sect Leader Jin, about your sexual experiences.”

“I’ve been raped repeatedly since I was seven,” Jin Zixun said flatly enough that Ying winced. “On your own head be it.”

Gang turned to stare flatly at every other sect leader, most of whom paled. “I’m not joking. I’ll ask him so don’t open your mouths during questioning unless you’ve been given permission to ask.”

“That’s… that’s good, fine, yes. I’ll personally put anyone who does it through the floor,” Bo Muye spluttered. He’d gone pale as milk so yeah, shouted questions from the incorrect people weren’t going to happen. Even Sect Leader Yao had a hand over his mouth to keep from saying something inappropriate.

Choosing who would do the questioning was a bit more of a problem.

How questions were asked was just as important as who asked them. A clever person could twist the answer you got just by shifting the way they asked the question. You agree that so-and-so did such-and-such, yes? Of course, everyone agrees that this-or-that is reprehensible but let us consider that it might be justified in this case.

Between Ying, who threw examples like that at people every time they claimed that they could do it, and Jin Zixun who took every offered question and twisted it into something horrible with just a few clever quips, the sect leaders one by one decided that no, they absolutely did not want to ask questions personally, not when they had to submit to the Speak the Truth array and provide their evidence with everyone watching and listening.

No one liked Speak the Truth.

Everyone agreed that it was brilliant and highly effective. Ying spent the whole time everyone was deciding how to ask and who to do the asking making copies of Speak the Truth for every single sect, including Jin Zixun.

“You’re still fucking weird,” Jin Zixun grumbled when Ying gave him three copies.

“True,” Ying agreed with a shrug and a grin. “But they’ll help you find more abusive child molesters. You know, if you win the trial. If not, then your people can use them to do it instead.”

“So fucking weird,” Jin Zixun muttered at Ying’s back as the scurried back over to Gang’s side.

In the end, Jin Zixun designated his First Disciple, Jin Zishu, to do the asking on his side. Nie Mingjue chose his First Disciple, Nie Zonghui, on the other side. After that it was a matter of setting up a list of things that everyone objected to and asking just what happened and why.

Jin Zishu and Nie Zonghui went from table to table to collect the issues everyone wanted to ask about. The list was actually fairly consistent no matter who asked. Who had Jin Zixun murdered? Why had he murdered them? What were his plans?”

“Well, that’s useless,” Ying said as he and Gang studied the list. “Wow. No wonder show trials are such a waste.”

“Yikes,” Gang agreed. “There’s no specificity at all there. Okay, so, let’s work this out. Suzhi, who’s been killed on Jin Zixun’s orders or by him personally?”

Suzhi appeared out of the air above their table, floating down so that she almost looked like she was standing in front of them. Her dress trailed off into mist and she was see-through, of course, but she hadn’t manifested the slash across her throat that’d killed her.

“Starting when?” Suzhi asked. “Because he did a bunch of stuff during the Sunshot Campaign and shortly after it that was pretty awful. The first that I would put on the list was me, of course. He cut my throat when I told him I wasn’t a prostitute and that I wasn’t going to have sex with him.”

Jin Zixun stared at her while going pale as milk.

“Wow,” Ying said, leaning around Nie Zonghui to meet Jin Zixun’s eyes as he did it.

“Sorry, Suzhi,” Gang sighed. “I forgot that he killed you.”

“No problem, Sect Leader,” Suzhi said, waving it off. “I mean, he isn’t as bad as pretty much all of the people he killed once he became sect leader but still.”

The list of names Suzhi provided was over a hundred long, starting with Suzhi and ending with Meng Yao and Mo Xuanyu. Jin Zixun went from horror to sullen anger over the long process of identifying each of the dead and then confirming which would respond to the Lan’s Inquiry.

“All right, if they get to name names,” Jin Zixun said once Nie Zonghui and Jin Zishu had the list, “I get to name names, too. Because you’re leaving out a lot that I think need to be addressed.”

“Who?” Gang asked.

“All the people those assholes on your list killed, raped and destroyed,” Jin Zixun said while glaring defiantly at Gang. “I object to Mo Xuanyu being on my so-called murder list when Meng Yao was the one who plopped him in an array and stabbed the kid through the heart.”

“He did what?” Nie Mingjue spluttered.

“Mo Xuanyu, who was all of two years old,” Jin Zixun said as he turned to stare Nie Mingjue into queasy silence, “was found still alive in the middle of an array that Meng Yao set up based off of stuff he stole from the Lan. I don’t know what the fuck the array would have done, but the only way to free the kid was to kill him. I didn’t put him there. I just freed his soul so it wouldn’t be trapped in the array for eternity. That death is not on me.”

Ying nodded. “All right, well, that’s what we’ll do then. That’s our procedure. These are the names of the people you’re accused of murdering. Let’s just focus on murder right now. If we need to address other crimes, that should be separate. There’s too much otherwise. None of us can afford to be here for months and months. We’ll go down the list. Starting with Suzhi, you put on the Speak the Truth array. Then Lan Xichen questions Suzhi about her death under Jin Zishu’s direction. Then Nie Zonghui questions you. We vote whether it’s justified homicide or unjustified murder. Then repeat on through the rest of the names.”

Jin Zixun grimaced as he looked at Jin Zishu who had an amazingly blank face. The only place that Jin Zishu showed his emotions was in his eyes which were a bit intense, too tight and wrinkled at the corners.

“Sect Leader?” Nie Zonghui asked, looking to Nie Mingjue.

All the gathered sect leaders looked to Nie Mingjue as well. And really, why wouldn’t they? Jiang Fengmian was known to be mild-mannered and to hate conflict. Lan Xichen was part of the process of figuring all this out. Wen Qing certainly wasn’t going to say a word for or against. She was on the razor’s edge just like Ying and Gang.

Besides, this whole thing was happening in Nie Mingjue’s domain. It kind of was his place to give the final say.

“I see you pushing me to lead all this,” Nie Mingjue said, wagging a finger at Ying.

“It’s your home,” Ying said, grinning back at him. “Personally, I never did understand the need for a Chief Cultivator, so I don’t think the position needs to be filled.”

“And that is why you’re Furen and I’m Sect Leader,” Gang drawled only to laugh when Ying swatted at his shoulder. “There’s reasons and no, you’re not getting the position from deciding on the procedure. It’s your home. You decide if the protocol will be how things happen here.”

Nie Mingjue snorted, smiling just enough to make his mustache twitch. “You’re still maneuvering me into it, and I don’t want it. Give it to Popo Yu.”

“I will gut you where you stand, boy,” Popo Yu said so quickly and so firmly that Ying burst into giggles.

Nie Mingjue grinned at her. “That wouldn’t keep you from the position but fine, fine. Jiang Fengmian has the temperament for it. He can do it. But yes, that procedure will be fine. We can always refine it as we go along.”

“Popo Yu, can I hire you to gut him for me?” Jiang Fengmian called to her as Yu Ziyuan smirked from her spot by his side. “For my lovely wife’s sake?”

“No,” Popo Yu said into the rising giggles. “Do your own stabbing. Or show a little romance and ask your wife to do it for you.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Yu Ziyuan said.

Her smile sent shivers up Ying’s spine. It seemed to do the same to everyone else, too, because there were a lot of shudders around the room. Either way, that seemed to be everything that they needed to get started on the trial.

Jin Zixun nodded to Jin Zishu. “Get started. I want this nonsense over with as soon as possible.”

 

 

30. Charity

The slash across Suzhi’s throat appeared like a river hidden behind fog burning off in the sun. She bit her lip as Lan Xichen played Inquiry. It was odd to watch a ghost that they’d made visible respond to Inquiry. It wasn’t easy for Suzhi. She shuddered and curled in on herself, trembling as the power of Inquiry wrapped around her and gripped her bleeding throat.

“What is your name?” Lan Xichen played and narrated for everyone who didn’t understand the language of the guqin.

“Suzhi,” Suzhi said. She jerked and flinched as Inquiry compelled her to be completely truthful. “Bo Shuxin.”

“How did you die?”

“Jin Zixun ran up and grabbed my arm in the marketplace of Jinlintai,” Suzhi said, eyes locked on Lan Xichen’s guqin which played her words. “He said that he had a job for me. That I would be paid very well for it. I said no. Everyone knew what sorts of job you would get from Jin cultivators. I didn’t want to be raped.”

“What did he do?”

“He cursed at me,” Suzhi said. “And said that I was a fucking whore so there was no reason to be so shy. I said that I wasn’t because I wasn’t a whore. I worked in a shop. He told me not to lie and when I said I wasn’t, he looked over his shoulder. The next thing I knew my throat had been cut and I was dying. It was very fast. I was… very angry about it and I lingered. It’s easy to linger in Jinlintai.”

Lan Xichen stilled the guqin strings, releasing Suzhi who zipped over to hide behind Ying and Gang. Ying could feel the quiver of her energies. There was a sort of relief there at having told her story, but Suzhi was absolutely shaking, too. Their way of dealing with the dead was just so much more gentle than the Lan’s Inquiry.

Jin Zishu sighed as he turned to Jin Zixun who had the Speak the Truth array already attached to his chest. The scowl on Jin Zixun’s face was scornful. Not a single bit of regret showed on his face.

“Jin Zixun, was that an accurate account of the encounter and death?” Jin Zishu asked in such a painfully neutral voice that Ying winced.

“As far as it goes, yes,” Jin Zixun said with a curled lip at Suzhi. “She left out the whole part where Jin Guangshan loudly declared, loud enough for the entire market to turn and stare at him, that I had to bring in someone for their party and that if I didn’t, I’d be the one who had to entertain them. Also left out the part where one of his cronies laughed and said that a twelve-year-old boy would be more… entertaining… than a prostitute. Which was repeated multiple times during the gang rape that followed.”

Ying blinked several time before looking at Suzhi who looked horrified by that. “You didn’t hear that?”

“No, I didn’t,” Suzhi said. “I was late to work. I ran in from a side street and he grabbed me. I didn’t… I didn’t know he was only twelve, not dressed the way he was. He was wearing an adult’s clothes, and I was in a hurry, so I didn’t look closely.”

“Typical.” Jin Zixun sniffed. “No one bothered to look closely or even attempt to help me or any of the other victims.”

That, unfortunately, set the pattern for the rest of the trial. Lan Xichen called murder victims and questioned them. They responded with very limited answers that, while completely truthful, didn’t show the true sequence of events. Then Jin Zixun explained everything else that the ghost left out, including rape, beatings, threats of murder, actual murder, and every kind of corruption that unchecked power and too much money gave rise to.

Honestly, the worst part of it was that Jin Zixun was right. Pretty much every single “crime” that was brought up, Jin Zixun had had little to no power or the other person did much worse things that he did by killing them. Of all of them, Suzhi’s was the only death that wasn’t a righteous one.

Darkness had fallen by the time Nie Zonghui finally ran out of questions to ask. Jin Zishu sighed and rubbed his face once he passed the list over to Nie Zonghui.

“Um, I have one more question before we make any decisions,” Ying said.

He winced at the incredulous looks from Gang and Lan Zhan. And everyone else. They were as exhausted as Ying, obviously, but really, it was important to bring the point out. Right now. This instant.

“Fine,” Jin Zixun grumbled as he stuck the Speak the Truth array back on his chest. “Ask your stupid rude fucking question, you freak.”

Ying grinned. “I love that your cursing doesn’t change even with the array. But no, it’s not a question for you. It’s for Jin Zishu. It should be a one-word answer, too.”

Jin Zixun opened his mouth, brows drawn together in a startled frown. After a moment he closed his mouth and then turned to Jin Zishu who had as little expression as Lan Zhan. Aggressively so, actually.

“All right,” Jin Zishu said, taking the Speak the Truth array from Jin Zixun. “Ask.”

“Do you trust Jin Zixun?” Ying asked.

Any answer that Jin Zishu might have made drowned under the roars of outrage from… well, everyone. Even Gang seemed horrified by the question. It took forever for the shouting and posturing to die down. Nie Mingjue had to stand up and bellow at Sect Leader Yao and Ouyang to get them to stop yelping about inappropriate this and unprecedented that.

“Seriously?” Gang asked.

“Seriously,” Ying said, nodding. “I think it’s important to know.”

The whole time a quarter shichen’s worth of outrage pouring out of everyone, Jin Zishu had stood there with the Speak the Truth on his chest without saying a single word. He kept his mouth shut, which just went to show that they’d done a really good job on that array. He hadn’t been forced to answer a single question flung around.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Jin Zixun said, glowering at Ying like he wanted to stab Ying about a thousand times.

Suzhi bristled behind Ying’s shoulder, her energies going bitingly cold for a moment before she settled down at Ying’s gentle pat in her direction.

“No, he doesn’t,” Ying agreed. “But I do think it’s a vital question. He’s your First Disciple, the one most likely to take over if you’re dead. He’s been there through all of this, the abuse before and the cleanup you’ve been doing.”

“Quite true,” Jin Zishu said with a tiny nod in Ying’s direction. He smiled wryly at Jin Zixun. “I didn’t before. I do now.”

Jin Zixun’s mouth dropped open as his cheeks went white, then blazingly red. “What?”

“I trust you, Sect Leader Jin,” Jin Zishu said as the other Jin disciples nodded their agreement. “I trust you, Jin Zixun. I don’t like you very much, but that’s normal. There are very few people in the world that I do like so it’s nothing personal.”

Jin Zishu huffed and pulled the array off. He held it like a dead cockroach, a corner of the page pinched between his fingertips, as he brought it over and placed it in Ying’s hands.

“And I hope I never have to do that again,” Jin Zishu complained as he made his way back to Jin Zixun’s side. “Absolute truthfulness. How horrible.”

He sat. He stared in blank-faced defiance at Nie Mingjue and Nie Zonghui. And that was that from Jin Zishu, apparently.

Ying looked at Gang. He’d decided already. Honestly, most everyone else had, too.

“Sect Leader Nie,” Gang said, standing up, “I’m exhausted. I’m pretty sure that everyone else is, too. I propose that we take the night to think this over and then render our votes tomorrow. Frankly, I can’t even think straight at this point.”

Nie Mingjue huffed a laugh. “Trust the Yiling Xue sect to speak what was on everyone’s minds. If the other sect leaders agree, I think that’s a good idea. And perhaps we can… not have a banquet tonight, hmm?”

The agreement was immediate.

Ying sighed as he collapsed on the bed back in their rooms. “That was… ugh. I hope we never have to be part of a trial ever, ever again.”

“No shit,” Gang agreed as he flopped against Lan Zhan who’d followed them back to their suite instead of going with his brother. “Why the hell didn’t anyone do anything about the Jin? They were so… open about what they were doing.”

Lan Zhan hummed as he wrapped an arm around Gang’s waist and nuzzled his hair. “Too rich. Too powerful. Wen Ruohan favored him.”

“That right there should’ve told people that something was wrong,” Ying complained. “I’m so tired. I don’t even want to eat.”

“You really are tired,” Suzhi said, poking Ying in the forehead. “I’m… thinking it’s time for me to move on. I really. Well. He’s not what I thought. At all.”

“I kind of thought you might,” Ying said as he sat up and smiled at Suzhi whose bottom lip wobbled. “It’s okay, Suzhi. We appreciate all the work you’ve done for us but having you move into the cycle of reincarnation just means that we get to meet a little Suzhi someday, and that will be so cute.”

Suzhi laughed. The cut across her throat flared into visibility and then faded away as resentful energy billowed off of her. Between one breath and the next, she was gone. Ying stared into the space where she’d been, then crawled over to cuddle next to Lan Zhan.

“He’s going to be acquitted, isn’t he?” Wei Ying mumbled into Lan Zhan’s shoulder.

“…Mm.”

“Almost certainly,” Gang agreed. “Mostly because of your last question. I mean, I get it. His people absolutely do trust him, no matter how afraid they are of everyone else or how stupid he is.”

“But that’s the thing,” Ying complained, shifting so that he could meet Gang’s eyes. “He’s not stupid. He’s abused and violent and way too convinced that no one will ever take his side, but he’s not stupid. He’s really smart. And all those brains have been turned to making sure that no one could ever hurt him again. What’s he going to do once he feels safe?”

Both Gang and Ying went still as they thought it over. It was a concern. A big one given how much hatred Jin Zixun had towards Gang and Ying.

“We’ll worry about that when he acts against us,” Gang decided. “We’ll keep the ghosts watching him and do our best to be prepared for anything he comes up with.”

“Will warn Xiongzhang,” Lan Zhan promised. “We will watch him, too.”

Despite Ying’s lack of appetite, servants brought them food, so Ying ate along with Gang and Lan Zhan. They were just finishing up when Lan Xichen slipped into their room along with Wen Qing and Nie Mingjue. All three of them looked as tired as if they’d been turning a field over by hand and then hauling water in buckets to fill the paddy.

“Um, there’s a little wine left,” Ying said as Lan Zhan reheated the pot of tea. “And tea.”

“Tea,” Nie Mingjue said as he sat on their bed for lack of anywhere else to sit.

“Agreed,” Wen Qing said. She leaned into a corner, propping herself up with her teacup in both hands as if she intended to fall asleep right there.

Lan Xichen sat next to Gang and sighed. “I could wish that you hadn’t asked that question, Wei Ying.”

Ying shrugged. “Sorry? I mean, I noticed that the Jin didn’t edge away from him at all at the start of the whole thing. They were afraid, yeah, but not of Jin Zixun. It all hits too close to home, you know?”

“He’s our generation’s Xue Chonghai, even though the real monsters were Jin Guangshan and Wen Ruohan,” Gang said.

He leaned into Lan Zhan’s side again, prompting Lan Zhan to smile with the corners of his eyes. It made Lan Xichen’s meaningless normal smile shift into a much more real one that wrinkled the corners of his eyes and made his militantly erect posture relax minutely.

“We’re letting him go, right?” Wen Qing asked. “He’s a monster but we’re letting him go.”

“I think we have to,” Nie Mingjue said before throwing back his tea like a shot of wine. “What he did was bad but…”

“But he was fighting monster who were even worse,” Lan Xichen finished.

“By himself,” Ying added. He ducked his head at the way everyone stared at him for it. “I just. I understand where he’s coming from, you know? If I hadn’t had Gang by my side, I would be a… very different person than I am. I don’t think I would have gone Jin Zixun’s direction. I didn’t, we didn’t, experience the same things, but.”

Gang nodded. “I can see it, too. Without Ying, I would’ve. Well. I would’ve died without Ying. The dog yao would have killed me. But if I survived that, I would’ve been bitter and violent and just like him. Out to get everyone who might hurt me before they had a chance to do anything.”

“What he really needs,” Ying said thoughtfully as he watched Lan Xichen tracing one fingertip around and around and around the lip of his teacup without meeting either Ying or Gang’s eyes, “is support. Not the whole “we’re fellow sect leaders and thus we will make alliances” thing. Real support. Like, he’s still got people who are rapists and murderers back in Jinlintai. Let’s help him clean them out.”

Gang nodded thoughtfully. “Should. It might help him be a little less violent.”

Nie Mingjue studied the two of them, the three of them actually since Lan Zhan nodded firmly while prodding Lan Xichen into looking at them all. Wen Qing had her eyes shut off in her corner but the white-knuckle grip she had around her teacup had eased.

And hey, that was someone who needed help too, right? She’d been thrust into ruling a warrior sect when she was a doctor and a woman. No matter how intimidating Wen Qing was, she could do with support as well.

Gang followed Ying’s eyes. He stayed still and unmoved for a moment, then he snorted and nodded to Ying. His silent laugh drew Lan Xichen’s attention away from his teacup, Lan Zhan’s attention away from his brother.

“What?” Lan Xichen asked.

“Well, there’s a bunch of people who need support,” Gang said. “Wen Qing needs help. You need help after the damage to the Cloud Recesses. We need it to get ourselves properly set up. I’m sure the Nie and the Jiang could use help, too.”

“So we help everyone,” Ying said with his brightest smile at them all. “We give them what they need, and we don’t demand harsh contracts for it. Like the Speak the Truth array and the one for filtering poisons. Like the Great Purification on everyone’s fields if they ask.”

“But not just us,” Gang said, looking at Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen and a now wide-eyed Wen Qing in turn. “Each sect has something unique to offer. Yes, there’s trade. Yes, we should keep our own secrets and all. But if someone’s got a plague going on, Wen Qing can send healers. The Lan can send juniors to play Inquiry so that people know what they’re dealing with.”

“We can help a lot with mining and animal husbandry,” Nie Mingjue said thoughtfully. “Huh. Act the opposite of Wen Ruohan and Jin Guangshan, basically?”

“Exactly that,” Gang said.

“I’d… like that,” Wen Qing said. She drank her tea and passed the teacup to Lan Xichen. “Tomorrow, though. I can’t think right now.”

Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen both burst into exhausted laughs which was prompting enough for Ying to lever himself up and shoo them out the door. He smiled as Lan Zhan moved with Gang to the bed, clearly intending to stay the night.

Ying slipped out of the room and went up the hallway until he found the stairs down into the Jin’s guest rooms. Jin Zishu stood guard at the entrance to the hallway even though he looked exhausted. He stiffened as Ying approached.

“He’s going to be acquitted,” Ying said softly. “Get Gang or Lan Zhan or I a list of the problems you still need to deal with. We’ll help. And if you have any advice for Wen Qing on how to deal with her whole mess, she’d appreciate it a lot.”

“…At what price?” Jin Zishu asked. He really did have an amazing blank face, not naturally like Lan Zhan because there were tiny little tells around the way his lips flinched and his eyes wrinkled, but still amazing.

“The price is not acting like Wen Ruohan or Jin Guangshan,” Ying said with a shrug. “Real change, not just pretending to change and acting the same old way.”

Jin Zishu blew out a breath, then nodded once. “I’ll tell him. We’ll see what happens tomorrow.”

Ying grinned. “Absolutely. Get some sleep, for heaven’s sake. You look as exhausted as I feel.”

He bowed properly and then left before Jin Zishu could bow back. There was still telling Jiang Fengmian, seeing if he agreed, but Ying was pretty sure that Jiang Fengmian would agree with whatever Ying and Gang decided on.

If he did, then this was almost done.

They were so close to safe at long, long last that Ying’s breath shuddered in his chest as he made his way to the Jiang quarters. One more day and then they could all go home.

When he was little, he’d loved traveling with his parents. The memories were so dim any more that they were just warmth, happiness, vague and distant as a dream recounted in a story. The long years of cold and fear and struggle in Yiling had wiped most of those memories away.

Standing on the stairs in the middle of the Unclean Realm, one hand on the massive stone wall, Ying found his heart aching for the ash-clouds of resentment and the musty smell of rot that surrounded the sanctuary. He missed General Kwan, tucked away outside of town so that he wouldn’t set off the Nie sabers.

And their cave. Xue Chonghai’s dream-lectures. Even the stupid haunted mushrooms.

One more day.

Then home finally.

 

 

31. Home

Fluffy white clouds slowly drifted by overhead as Ying placed the last intricately carved marker for their latest attempt to purify the Yiling soil of all the soil and toxins left behind from Xue Chonghai’s war. A gentle breeze ruffled his hair and the ratty hems of his work robes. No point to dressing up in good clothes when you had to repeatedly dive out of the line of fire, after all.

But it was fine. Good even. Because they were almost there. Six months of creation, three months of testing and now, as the spring rains showered down over the Sanctuary, they were on the verge of fixing Yiling for good.

Pretty much the whole town had come out to watch this test. All Gang’s fault there. He’d bragged that they finally had it right last night when they were having tea with Elder Entai. If this didn’t work, Gang was going to have to spend weeks making purification beads for Elder Entai to give to her kids, grandkids and descendants.

It should work. It should. Ying blew out a breath before nodding to Gang who activated the outer wards they’d set up for Yiling proper. As much energy as Ying and Gang were slinging around with these salt purification arrays, it was too dangerous to leave Yiling’s homes and people undefended.

“Ready!” Ying called to Gang.

“We’re… secure,” Gang called back. “Go ahead and don’t get caught in the array!”

“I won’t!” Ying promised.

Hopefully. Another quick, hard breath, and Ying leaned as far back as he could while still touching the trigger array. His legs and back ached from the strain but…

Spiritual energy sparked from Ying to the trigger.

It blazed, energy racing up its complicated cinnabar lines towards the rest of the array.

Ying leaped back as the salt removal array flared to life and then ran until he could dive into his personal protective ward.

They’d soaked and then dried the rice paddy until it was as hard as fired clay. Soft soil just flopped around. Hard, baked soil, though, that released the toxins and let the salt bubble up to the surface.

The soil inside of their array glowed like the sun, brighter and brighter until Ying had to shield his eyes. Shouts echoed from town, some fearful though they subsided when Gang reassured them.

The rice paddy’s hard-packed surface shuddered and cracked, fragmenting into smaller and smaller pieces that slowly turned white. The white powder drifted up into the air like embers that swirled into a spiraling dust devil that moved across the field towards the river.

This time, for the first time, the dust devil made it all the way to the water’s edge. Once there, it collapsed, dropping the salt and other deadly impurities into the Yiling River where the other arrays that he and Gang had set up would neutralize them so that they wouldn’t kill the fish.

“Ha!” Ying shouted, jumping up and down in his protective ward while pumping a fist into the air. “It worked!”

Off by the Cho farm, Lan Zhan nodded and smiled his tiny little smile. Gang dismissed the protective ward, then ran over to check the soil with the special talisman they’d designed to see if there was salt in the soil.

“And it’s… gone!” Gang said, beaming at Ying. “We did it!”

They laughed and hugged each other, dancing around like idiots, but hey, they weren’t alone in that. Elder Entai was laughing and doing a little shuffle dance. General Kwan looked like he would’ve been sobbing his eyes out if he could still cry. Even Lan Yitian was beaming as she thumped Du Xilin on the back despite Lan Zhan being right there.

It had worked.

“We fixed it,” Ying whispered to Gang, clinging to him. “We fixed it.”

“I know,” Gang whispered back with tears pouring down his cheeks. “There’ll be enough food. No one in Yiling will go hungry anymore. It’s…”

No more street kids. Ying and Gang had already taken in every kid who needed a place to stay.

No more yao hunting people and killing babies. They’d wiped the dog-yao out years ago. The sheer number and power of the arrays they had around Yiling, not to mention the defenses Xue Chonghai set up so long ago, meant that there just weren’t yao in town anymore.

No more stupid politics. No more creepy guys on the docks. Yiling had real business now, not just smugglers and rogues causing trouble.

“We fixed it all,” Ying said, shaking his head as he leaned into Gang’s side.

“Well, there’s still work to be done,” Gang said even though he nodded his agreement. “But yeah. Everything we could have wanted when we were kids, it’s… it’s all fixed.”

Ying nodded thoughtfully as they headed back to Lan Zhan’s side.

What did you do after you’d achieved every goal you’d ever set for yourself?

“Well done,” Lan Zhan said as he took Ying’s free hand and then Gang’s free hand, too.

He looked so very proud that Ying had to lean in to kiss him, right there in front of everyone. Gang laughed and then did the same. They both smiled at the way Lan Zhan’s blush spread from his ears right across his whole face.

Lan Zhan still wore his forehead ribbon. He was, and would always be, a Lan, of course. After their marriage, though, he’d stopped wearing such pale blue and only wore accents of white. His robes today were beautiful indigo blue linen with accents of teal and red embroidery that echoed the embroidery on Ying and Gang’s collars.

He had two red ribbons in his hair.

“I’m so happy we met you,” Ying said as he squeezed Lan Zhan’s fingers. “That was a good day.”

“Mm,” Lan Zhan hummed, eyes warm as he not-smiled at Gang and then hot with need as he not-smiled at Ying.

Gang laughed. “Okay, if you two are going to be that way I’ll go off and see what Jin Zixun wants.”

“Did he already get here?” Ying asked in surprise.

He craned his neck and yeah, there were Jin cultivators towards the back of the crowd. Jin Zixun had stopped the whole cloth-of-gold nonsense and switched the Jin to much more subdued undyed linen with some carefully chosen yellow dyes that didn’t bleed out at the first drop of water for their belts and tabards, so the Jin no longer shimmered in the sunlight. They looked almost humble, despite Jin Zixun’s rolled eyes when Ying waved at him.

“What?” Jin Zixun snapped as he pushed through the crowd just like always. “Don’t you have celebrating to do?”

Ying grinned. “Absolutely yes. I just hadn’t realized you’d arrived yet. How’s Koi Tower?”

Jin Zixun huffed and glowered over Ying’s shoulder while crossing his arms over his chest. Behind him, Jin Zishu smiled and nodded so everything was all right. People were probably just being complementary about Jin Zixun’s progress in cleaning up his uncle’s enormous mess again.

“They’re all idiots,” Jin Zixun said with a scowl at Ying for daring to ask. “I don’t know why I keep trying to fix things there when they’re all so stupid.”

“You try to fix it because you’re actually a good person under the temper and snarling,” Ying said, grinning even wider.

Jin Zixun went beet red as he spluttered. “You take that back! I am not!”

Behind him, Jin Zishu quietly laughed into his fist, turned away so that it wasn’t quite as obvious. Ying leaned against Lan Zhan as he teased Jin Zixun a bit more. Not for long. Pretty soon Gang swooped by and dragged Jin Zixun off to talk to Bo Muye, who looked ever so delighted to be talking to Jin Zixun, and Lan Xichen, who looked delighted to talk to everyone.

“Home?” Lan Zhan murmured in Ying’s ear at the same time his and tightened on Ying’s waist.

“That’s a great idea, Lan Zhan,” Ying said. “We gotta tell everyone in the Sanctuary that we figured it out finally.”

The wards around the Sanctuary still stood. Their purity beads carried them past the line where the resentful energy lurked like a black fog over the ground. After this long, there weren’t as many lotus blooming with their soul orbs overhead. Most of the ghosts had moved on after the trial.

Not the honor guard. They’d sworn their oaths, and they were determined to stay until Ying and Gang had proper full defenses for Yiling and the Sanctuary. Which was fine! Really, it was. Ying wanted them all to be free to move into the cycle of reincarnation, but…

…well, they were family, too, and he didn’t want to lose too many of them at once.

The repeated testing had at least repaired large portions of the land between the Cho farm and the inner spires. Scrubby grass and scraggly black bamboo still grew fitfully, but the grass was turning green this spring instead of dead-brown and scraggly black. The new bamboo shoots were thicker, stronger, than they ever had been before, though it looked like they would stay black forever.

Ying waved and then laughed as the ladies living in the Sanctuary ran over to ask a million questions about how it had gone. He got a round of cheers when he announced that it had worked, then hugs and laughter and tears that had Ying on the verge of weepy, too.

Lan Zhan pulled him into the cave as soon as the ladies let him go.

“I’m so glad it worked, Lan Zhan,” Ying murmured as Lan Zhan pulled him through the huge entrance, into the tunnels and then back to the bedroom that they shared with Gang.

Tucked away in the darkness of the deeper caves, their bedroom wasn’t much. They had several trunks that held their clothes. That was still a wonder to Ying after the years of wearing rags. Ying even had three whole pairs of boots, one bought instead of crafted by Xue Chen who was still having a grand time making boots. Just for everyone in town now instead of just for Ying and Gang and the rest of the army.

Then there was their bed, big enough for three men to curl up together, with two fluffy mattresses on top of each other and eight blankets because Gang liked to cocoon himself while Ying stole blankets and Lan Zhan always wanted the last one left to keep from getting chilled overnight.

Plus bookshelves and notes scattered across the floor from their early morning review of what to do today, and sword stands and ribbons and three separate racks to hang their mountain of brushes.

It was a home. Not the sort of home that Ying had when he was little. Not one that he would have ever imagined growing up.

But it was a home, his home, and Ying loved it so very much.

Lan Zhan breathed a little laugh as he wrapped his arms around Ying’s waist from behind. “Home?”

“Home,” Ying agreed. “Welcome home, Lan Zhan.”

“Mm,” Lan Zhan hummed, golden eyes wrinkling at the corners. “A question.”

“Sure,” Ying said.

He turned in Lan Zhan’s arms so that he could hug Lan Zhan, too. It made Lan Zhan’s lips twitch into one of his tiny little smiles. Also made both of their groins react but that was fine. Good, even. Ying absolutely wanted to celebrate their success with Lan Zhan. You know, privately.

“Dual cultivation,” Lan Zhan said and then paused as Ying blinked at him in surprise. He frowned. “You do not… wish to?”

“Well, no, it’s not that,” Ying said slowly. “You know I love you. And Gang loves you too, in his way.”

“Mm,” Lan Zhan agreed with gratifying confidence.

“I don’t think either Gang or I ever considered dual cultivation with you because we already cultivate with each other,” Ying said. “Xue Chonghai got on us so hard about it at first. We were really young, only kids. We had to get a potable source of water and Gang took on too much resentful energy. I shoved a ton of my qi into him, then he passed too much back and eventually we managed to even it out. We’ve… never done that with anyone else. And I don’t want to do it without Gang. At least, not without a long discussion about it first.”

Lan Zhan looked kind of like his heart stopped at the news that Gang had almost died all those years ago. Which wasn’t a surprise. He always reacted badly to news that Ying or Gang might have been in danger.

But he did nod that he understood by the time Ying finished explaining.

“We can ask,” Lan Zhan said. His smile was small and content which reassured Ying. “There is no rush. Xiongzhang wondered.”

“Ah,” Ying said, nodding. “We can talk to him about it later.”

Much later if Ying had his way. It really wasn’t anyone’s business how their relationship worked or who did what with who. Their triad was theirs. No one needed to have details unless they chose to share details.

Their private celebration lasted for three good sweaty rounds that had both of them moaning by the end of the third time. Ying flopped on top of Lan Zhan, wheezing a bit. Always and forever, Lan Zhan was the sexiest man alive. No one could ever compare.

Especially when he lay panting on the bed, fucked boneless, with a blush across his cheeks and bite marks slowly fading all across his shoulders. Just like Ying who had bite marks and scratches and a lovely bruise on his hip where Lan Zhan had gripped just a hair too hard the second time.

Sex with Lan Zhan was so much fun!

They both jerked when the door to their bedroom opened. There was only one person it could be. Once they married Lan Zhan, they’d put up the door and then warded it so that their shared bedroom could only be entered by the three of them.

Gang peeked and then rolled his eyes when he saw that they were still naked in bed together.

“Oh, you two aren’t done yet,” Gang said as he shut the door. “It’s nearly dinnertime. You might want to clean up if you want to eat something besides leftovers.”

Ying laughed. “No, we just finished. It’s fine. Hey, Lan Xichen was apparently wondering if we were going to dual cultivate with Lan Zhan.”

Lan Zhan sighed obnoxiously that Ying just flung the gossip into the middle of an unrelated conversation. It made Ying snicker and Gang stare, or maybe it was the whole idea of Lan Xichen caring if or when they dual cultivated with anyone, much less his little brother.

“…Wouldn’t that be trio cultivation?” Gang asked after staring blankly at the two of them sprawled in bed for a moment. “Triad cultivation?”

“Maybe,” Lan Zhan said, holding a hand out to Gang.

They were so cute. Gang never did seem to want more than kisses and cuddling, but that was fine. Lan Zhan didn’t seem upset by it and Ying was more than happy to be the, ah, recipient of all of Lan Zhan’s lust. The way that Lan Zhan smiled so tenderly at Gang was adorable. So was the way that Gang squirmed a little at being looked at so lovingly.

Gang blushed as he sat on the edge of the bed to press a chaste little kiss against Lan Zhan’s lips. “We can talk about it, if you want. What Ying and I do is really different.”

“What you and Lan Zhan have together is very different from what Lan Zhan and I have,” Ying said with a shrug as he used a little cleaning array to get rid of the mess on his body, Lan Zhan’s body and on the bed, too. “What we have between us is different again. Doing that style of cultivation with Lan Zhan would have to, you know, be adjusted.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Gang agreed while staring into the distance. “Huh. I wonder if it would work. Two together is hard enough. Adding a third might be…”

They both paused as they thought it over in their heads. After this long, Ying didn’t need to hear the words to know that Gang was considering all the math that went with qi levels and how it amplified when you shared it with another person. The growth wasn’t linear. It was, in fact, exponential grown which could easily get away from them if they weren’t very, very careful.

“…Overwhelming,” Ying finished for him as Gang passed him pants and Lan Zhan his undershirt. “The amount of power it might generate is…”

Beyond anything that either of them could contain. All of them. The three of them together would, could, start glowing with qi, which was ridiculous.

“Pretty huge,” Gang completed with a grimace that had Lan Zhan smiling his wrinkled eyes smile at them. “Stop laughing, you. We almost doubled our cultivation levels the first time we dual cultivated. Three of us together has the potential to boot all three of us up to the point we’re on the verge of immortality.”

“…Ah,” Lan Zhan said, visibly startled. “More discussion then. I do not believe it’s supposed to work that way.”

Ying snickered as Gang rolled his eyes.

They wandered out into the Sanctuary where General Kwan and Cho Lianmin were talking with Lan Yitian who had Du Xilin’s baby daughter in her arms. A banquet of vegetarian food covered the big communal table. Cho Xilun wandered over with wine for Gang and Ying. Lan Zhan patted his shoulder and went in search of tea.

“You look happy,” Xue Chen commented as they got plates of food from the buffet.

“This…” Ying paused as he looked around the Sanctuary at the people they’d saved, the home they’d created, and the people they’d drawn into their orbit.

“It’s home,” Gang said with a little smile. “We never thought we’d have a home like this when we were street kids. It’s kind of overwhelming. I realized earlier that we’ve accomplished every single thing we set out to back then, Ying. What do we do now?”

Ying nodded. “I noticed that, too. But, well, there’s still lots of stuff we can do. We have a sect officially, but we haven’t started teaching people. We should have kids, too. Adopted obviously.”

“Well, actually,” Gang said in that tone that meant that he wanted to go off on a wild creative bender on ideas that no one in their right mind would ever look twice at, “I was thinking about that. It might be possible to use the arrays that Xue Chonghai created to repair the Guard to sculpt the right body parts to have babies ourselves, you know, if we wanted to.”

“Oh, no,” Xue Chen laughingly groaned as Lan Zhan smiled at the two of them. “They’re at it again. Are you going to stop them, Lan Zhan?”

“Hm,” Lan Zhan hummed as Ying bounced in excitement and Gang grinned at him. “No. I won’t.”

Ying cackled. Gang laughed.

And then they sat there and worked it out while eating their dinner with their family, their town, and their sect peacefully chatting around them. Whether Gang’s idea worked or not hardly mattered. They had a home. Everything else would work out in time.

#

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