Chapter Text
She finds him in his room, of course. A-Chen has always been reliable like that.
There are items strewn all over the floor. Her little brother tends to take his anger out on things if he’s really trying to avoid taking it out on people. Jiang Yanli has always admired and been saddened by the restraint.
She knocks on the door. It’s a formality. A-Cheng has never denied her entry here.
He doesn’t look up from the floor. He doesn’t welcome her in. He just sits in a kneel and trembles in what she presumes is rage.
Jiang Yanli brushes herself off. She focuses. How is she going to fix this one?
It always comes down to that–fixing things. Maybe she’s a hypocrite, to scold A-Xian so much for his self-sacrificial tendencies and then turn and do the same. What else can she do? She sends another prayer for Lan Xichen and resolves to do her part.
Her part is to take care of her brothers, of course.
“A-Cheng,” she says softly. “Look at me, please.”
She walks inside the room, closing the sliding door behind her. A-Cheng still doesn’t turn. She sighs and puts her hand on his shoulder, and the other on his messy, strewn hair.
He’s really tuckered himself out; she can tell.
“Didi,” she says, now with an edge of exasperation. “Everything is fine.”
“They slapped you.”
Jiang Cheng says it in a dark growl. His chest heaves from the force of his rage at saying the words.
Jiang Yanli closes her eyes briefly in exhaustion.
“Mother slapped me. Father was quite shocked.”
“Let me guess–he didn’t do shit.”
“A-Cheng. Language.”
The scold falls naturally from her tongue. Her brother clenches his fists.
“I hate them. I hate them so much.”
“That’s not very productive,” Jiang Yanli says with the slightest hint of a smile in her voice. She’s overtaken by affection at seeing her brother’s righteous fury, finding herself reminded of when he was younger. Chubby-cheeked and grumpy, Jiang Cheng was the cutest child.
A-Xian, too. They both were.
“It’s not fair.”
“Life tends to be like that, didi.”
Tiredness has started to creep into Jiang Yanli’s voice. Despite that, she sits down behind her brother and wraps her arms around him in a hug. A-Cheng tenses, but doesn’t shake her off.
“I knew what I was getting into. This wasn’t an unexpected outcome.”
“It doesn’t make it okay!” Jiang Cheng finally explodes, arms flying wildly. “None of this is fucking okay! Wei Wuxian is already playing martyr, because of-fucking-course he is! I yelled at him about it, and now I feel like shit because I said I wasn’t going to do that anymore, and I made his kid cry, and the worst part is that I still think he deserves it!”
Jiang Yanli begins to rub his back as he yells.
“And what am I supposed to do about this!? Mother hit you! I can’t even be mad about it to her face because then she’ll turn it on me! Father is off doing whatever the hell he does when everyone is mad, and I–”
Jiang Cheng’s voice chokes up.
“Wei Wuxian is the one who’s always here when I get like this!” He rages. “He’s the one who always makes me feel better, and now he’s with his new fucking baby and his new fucking fiancée, and I know I'm not supposed to be mad at him, but I am! I am, Jiejie! He makes me so angry!”
“Mhm,” Jiang Yanlinods, trying to sound soothing. “What else?”
“I hate the Lans! I hate Lan Xichen for just–just standing there! I hate Lan Wangji and his stupid, pompous face–he’s the reason all of this is happening in the first place!”
Jiang Yanli can’t help the quirk of amusement on her lips at that. It is a very untrue statement. She’s glad A-Cheng can’t see her expression right now.
“Damn Lan Qiren and damn the Lan delegation and damn Mom and Dad and damn Wei Wuxian!”
At the end of it, A-Chen is left wheezing for breath, still unbearably incensed.
“And me?” Jiang Yanli finally asks after a moment. “Are you mad at me, too?”
Jiang Cheng lets out a shudder. He sniffles.
“No, Jiejie.”
“Hm. And you’re not lying to me?”
Jiang Cheng’s spine bows under the weight of his dishonesty. He lets out an angry sound.
“Of course I’m fucking mad at you!” he finally spits.
Jiang Yanli just nods.
“Alright.”
She grabs him and turns his body to face her. He goes, and when she catches sight of his expression, it’s been broken through by a little bit of startlement.
“Say it to my face.”
A-Cheng’s eyes widen slightly.
“What!?”
“Tell me why you’re mad. Say it to my face.”
Jiang Cheng looks scandalized by the very idea.
“No!”
“I am your elder,” Jiang Yanli says simply. “Do as I say.”
“Jiejie-”
“Now,” she orders firmly. “A-Cheng. Tell me.”
Jiang Cheng’s face is a picture of emotion. His eyes are redrimmed and swollen. He’s clenching his jaw so harshly that the veins in his neck are starting to pop out.
“Did you even defend yourself!?” he finally snaps, and it sounds so similar to her mother’s biting voice that she almost flinches.
“Yes,” Jiang Yanli says, now quieter. “I did.”
Jiang Cheng’s gaze turns skeptical.
“I’m not lying, didi,” she says softly, fixing the hairs strewn over his face.
“I don’t fucking believe you.”
Jiang Yanli snorts.
“Do you want to know a secret?” she tells him.
A-Cheng just twists his mouth. Jiang Yanli takes it as a sign to continue.
“Sometimes,” she says pensively. “Sometimes, I want to burn this sect to ashes.”
Jiang Cheng’s eyebrows knit themselves together.
“Isn’t that mean?” she says distantly, now a little lost in her own thoughts. “This is our childhood home. I grew up watching you and A-Xian play on the piers, swim in the lakes, and pick, shell, and eat your own lotus seeds. All my life, I have not hungered, or thirsted, or been exposed to rain and thunder. But deep down, a part of me hates this place.”
Jiang Yanli lets out a half-laugh, half-huff.
“I so wish I could leave and take you and A-Xian with me, but I can’t. And I have stewed and lingered and drowned in that feeling all my life.”
Jiang Yanli looks to the side.
“Everyone says I’m like Father, and that you’re like Mother, but I am older, didi. I have seen more. I have just as much anger in my heart as you do, but I had to learn early not to express it.”
Jiang Yanli looks back at her dearest younger brother. She loves him with every fiber of her being.
“So tell me. Please, A-Cheng, tell me to my face everything you have in your head. All those thoughts that you think will hurt my feelings, or that will make you a bad brother. I want to hear them.”
A-Cheng stares at her for a long time. He’s hugging himself with his arms, fingers clutching the flesh of his shoulders tightly.
“Why did you decide to stand up for Wei Wuxian now, and never for me before?” he finally asks, dragging the words out of his mouth.
Yanli feels a pang of pain in her heart.
The hurt must flash on her face, because A-Cheng looks away, but doesn’t stop talking.
“You’ve always liked him better,” he says harshly, thickly. “He’s always been your favorite. Of course, you decide to start yelling at our parents and standing up to them for Wei Wuxian, because he’s better than me, and everyone likes him better, and so do you.”
He inhales roughly.
“You took a slap for him! Why am I not good enough!? Why don’t you love me like you love Wei Wuxian!?”
What a question.
What answer could she give?
She treats them differently, after all. Jiang Cheng’s emotions have always gotten him into trouble. A-Xian’s lack of self-esteem is his fatal flaw. To treat these two conditions, the approach must be different.
But she can see it so clearly, now. With A-Xian, Yanli had settled into a coaxing, doting role. She’d thought that if she gave A-Xian enough things, enough attention, enough love, that maybe he would finally believe he was their equal. That he deserves to be with them.
Of course, she’d also doted on A-Cheng–of course. But that had been under the goal to soothe, to placate. To… neutralize his strong emotions and rage.
What must it feel like, though? To only get affection for the purpose of being calmed down?
It must feel like you are an inconvenience. Something that’s not worth dealing with.
“This jiejie is sorry,” Jiang Yanli says in a hoarse whisper.
A-Cheng’s face sours.
“This is why I didn’t want to say anything,” he says.
“No,” Jiang Yanli says, trying to calm herself down. It will not be productive for her to cry. “Thank you for telling me. Really, A-Cheng. Thank you.”
She takes a deep breath and gathers her thoughts.
“I do not love Wei Wuxian more,” she finally speaks again.
Jiang Cheng doesn’t believe her, and it's written all over his face.
“Please understand, didi, that the only example of how to love someone who is as passionate as you that I have ever had… has been father.”
Jiang Cheng looks at her again. Something vulnerable has begun to peek out from under his expression. He’s listening.
Jiang Fengmian. What does Jiang Yanli feel when she thinks of him? He’s her father; her sect leader.
He’s a man who doesn’t know how to love.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admits. “I never have. Without knowing it, I've mirrored my father in everything, because he’s the… calmer one. Maybe I’ve done a worse job. I don’t know.”
“Stop it,” Jiang Cheng says snappishly. “Don’t say that.”
“Didi, I am not standing up now because I like A-Xian better. I am standing up because I… I can’t do this anymore.”
She sighs.
“The day after A-Xian gave birth, I went to the kitchens to make us food. Remember? It was after A-Xian couldn’t say he believed that we love him.”
A-Cheng nods reluctantly.
“Father came and started asking questions. You know how he is. He didn't like that Mother sent a bethothal request without his permission. Mother heard him and came in to fight with him.”
Jiang Yanli shakes her head at the memory. The emotions she’d felt are climbing back up her throat, acidic-feeling.
“And I was tired. Of them. Of their fighting. Of their attitudes. Of Father not caring about you. About me.”
At this, Jiang Cheng seems to make a realization. Jiang Yanli latches onto it.
“He hasn’t just forgotten you, didi. What about me?”
She feels all her ugly emotions bubble up to the surface.
“I have been a good daughter,” Jiang Yanli says, gritting her teeth. “I've never caused trouble. I tried my best with my bethrothal. I do not act like Mother. So why does Father ignore me?”
She loses herself to the hurricane of ‘Why’s’ for a moment, lost.
“Why doesn’t he take me to the market like A-Xian? Why doesn’t he invite me to play xiangqi like he does with A-Xian? He does not offer to eat lunch with me. He does not dote on me or my academic progress.”
Jiang Yanli huffs.
“Didi, do you really think you’re the only one who is jealous?”
Yanli has managed to do something she rarely can.
She has rendered A-Cheng speechless.
Her brother looks like he has just discovered that a law of the universe he’s lived under his whole life is untrue.
Maybe it really is that way in his mind. Maybe the thought that his elder sister might have a resentful vein in her has never even crossed his mind.
“You,” he starts haltingly, looking unbearably uncertain. “You–Jiejie, you–you–you’re jealous? Of Wei Wuxian?”
“It makes me feel like a terrible person,” Jiang Yanli continues, somber. “A-Xian tries so hard to make it up to us whenever Father does anything with him. Haven’t you ever noticed? The gifts? The outings he insists we take together? The swimming trips and sparring matches he ropes you into?”
Jiang Cheng still looks unfairly shocked. It makes Yanli feel a little self-conscious.
Yanli gathers her thoughts for a moment, closing her eyes.
“But a good big sister doesn’t take it out on her brothers. I have always known the root. I don’t want to be like mother or father–I want to be better.”
She looks down.
“I can’t do that if I cower down and do nothing. A-Xian having his child was part of that realization. He hid it. It made me realize that I hadn’t been carrying my weight. A-Xian has been helping me shoulder Mother and Father since he joined our family.”
Jiang Yanli looks Jiang Cheng in the eye.
“And you, didi–you have been left to shoulder the neglect the most. A-Xian had me and you. I have you and A-Xian. But you… you have a responsibility, one that is being passed to you from our father. He should be here teaching you. Out of the three of us, you’re the most valuable. I am just a daughter who will marry out–”
Yanli grimaces as she says the next words.
“--and in gentry terms, Wei Wuxian is just the son of a servant. That is why you have felt things so strongly all this time, didi. Because you’re important.”
Tears finally spring to her eyes properly.
“And we are disposable,” she says, smiling through the pain the words cause her.
Jiang Cheng rears back as if slapped.
“That’s not true!” he roars out after a moment of opening and closing his mouth.
“I will make it not,” Jiang Yanli says. She means it with her whole heart. “It won’t be this way forever. One day, you will be sect leader. I may not be able to stay here–I suspect I will be arranged to marry another young master. That is why I need to do this work now, before I run out of time. Do you understand, A-Cheng?”
Jiang Cheng shakes his head. He still seems stuck on her earlier words.
“Jiejie, you’re not–”
“We don’t have to argue about it right now,” she soothes gently. “But A-Cheng, I need you to understand what I’m saying. Do you understand?”
Jiang Cheng looks at her for a long, long time. His gaze is raw with emotion.
“I always thought you liked him better,” he says quietly.
Yanli’s heart threatens to break.
“You are the most wondrous thing in my life. You and A-Xian, together. It’s okay if you can’t believe me now,” Yanli breathes out, trying to even her inhales, “but can you promise to at least try?”
Jiang Cheng’s lip finally wobbles slightly.
That’s an answer in and of itself. Jiang Yanli takes him into his arms in a proper hug.
A-Cheng seems to let some of his anger slip away, and he hugs her back with a hesitant grip.
—
Xichen lingers at the doors of the Jiang’s meeting hall. The servants seem to know he’s hesitant, because they haven’t offered to open the doors.
Though perhaps that is instead due to the loud, shrieking yelling he’s been hearing for the past five minutes from inside the room.
Lan Xichen has had every petty word overheard about the Jiang-zongzhu and his wife playing out in his mind. It was an open secret that they were dysfunctional, but Xichen didn’t know it was this bad.
Perhaps recent happenings have exacerbated the problem. He says a prayer requesting forgiveness for his part in it all under his breath.
Finally, Xichen steps forward. The servant in front of the door scrambles to let him in, making a big, noisy show of announcing his presence–probably attempting to silence the war going on.
When Xichen walks in, Madame Yu is still looking out of sorts. Her voice had been the one Xichen had been hearing. Jiang-zhonzhu looks carefully blank. It’s hard to read him.
“Lan Xichen greets Jiang-zhongzhu and Madame Jiang,” he says, and bows.
“Welcome in,” Jiang-zhongzhu nods. Madame Yu says nothing. She looks murderous, still. Feral.
“It’s about time,” she says venomously.
Xichen knows what she’s referring to. Uncle’s initial greeting had been… lackluster.
“This one apologises for the trouble caused by his sect,” Xichen continues, and bows again. He’s starting to sound like an ever-cawing bird, here.
“There’s no need, Zewu-jun,” Jiang Fengmian says. He’s using Xichen’s title as a show of leniency. “We’re just glad things have finally calmed down for us to be able to talk, yes?”
“Of course,” Xichen says. He goes to sit where they are (they’re at the meeting table). Servants come and serve them tea. Xichen takes a polite sip.
“What did you want to discuss?” he asks simply and deferentially.
“Quite a few things,” Jiang Fengmian says with a wry smile. Something that approximates it, anyway. “We will stay with our own apologies, of course, for harboring Lan Wangji without your knowledge. It seems our daughter got a bit ahead of herself. Despite my and my wife’s ignorance, the action was still inexcusable. We ask Zewu-jun’s forgiveness.”
The words immediately leave a bad taste in Xichen’s mouth.
“There’s no need,” Xichen says firmly. “Maiden Jiang did well. I am grateful to her for caring for my brother and his well-being.”
“You don’t need to play coy, boy,” Madame Yu says, eyes narrowed in distaste. “Our daughter was out of line.”
Xichen has to do this. He has to stand up for Maiden Jiang–it is the least the woman deserves.
“I find I disagree,” Xichen says, expression set. “I will hear no otherwise argument.”
“Then perhaps we should save this conversation should wait until Lan Qiren wakes up,” Madame Yu snaps, clearly agitated.
“No,” Jiang Fengmian says firmly, almost bordering on harsh.
Madame Yu turns to her husband and seethes.
Jiang Fengmian smiles at Xichen, tense.
“Forgive my wife,” he says. “She has had a long day.”
A tremble goes through Madame Yu, but she says nothing.
“As has everyone,” Xichen says, and then tries his hand at a bit of diplomatic pushing. “If you would rather wait to speak to my Uncle, I understand.”
He takes a sip of his tea to try and show he’s unbothered. He has to focus very hard to hide the tremors in his limbs.
“Of course not,” Jiang Fengmian says. “I’ve heard you’re greatly skilled in academics and cultivation, and you are almost of age. Lan Qiren has had a medical emergency, and your father has been… unavailable for quite some time. You’re more than capable to step in for now, in my opinion.”
“I appreciate the confidence,” Xichen thanks with a diplomatic smile.
“In any case,” Jiang Fengmian continues. “The most pressing matter is your uncle’s health. How is he?”
“Recovering,” Xichen says. “It’ll take a few weeks, according to your doctors, but he should have no lasting effects.”
“Good. Will you be returning to Cloud Recesses to facilitate his recovery?”
Xichen takes a steadying breath. He places his cup down carefully.
“I am afraid I will have to bother the Jiang Sect Leader a bit more with a request.”
Jiang Fengmian turns pensive.
“Yes?” he says semi-encouragingly.
“I would ask if the Jiang sect could… perhaps sponsor my uncle’s recovery until he awakens.”
Jiang Fengmian’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Absolutely not,” Madame Yu snaps.
“Wife–”
“You cannot honestly be considering this, Fengmian! After everything they’ve said and done, all the mess they’ve made, you would let them stay longer to inconvenience us with their presence!?”
The Jiang Sect Leader puts a hand up to silence his wife, then turns to Lan Xichen.
“Explain.”
“My brother must be married. If I return to the Cloud Recesses now, my temporary position will be stripped from me by the Lan elders,” he says matter-of-factly. “If we are to find a solution to our mutual problem, I cannot go home, and I cannot take Wangji with me. Not after what’s happened already.”
Xichen knows it’s saying too much, maybe, but there’s really no other way to put it.
If he goes home, the elders will rip his little power away from him. They will force Wangji back into seclusion. Odds are they will approve the marriage, but under bleak conditions, making a contract that would mirror the relationship Xichen’s parents held. They would demand that Wuxian go live in the Cloud Recesses, and the Jiang, with their head disciple not being of noble blood and lesser standing than Wangji, will have no grounds to refuse. Dowry would be low–nothing worth what Wei Wuxian realistically deserves for his talents and abilities. The Jiang would have little influence on what would happen to their ward in another sect.
If they would fight for him at all.
(Maiden Jiang would. That brings Xichen some comfort.)
“I see,” Jiang Fengmian says. “So you would approve of your brother and our A-Xian being wed.”
It isn’t a question, but more of a statement. Jiang Fengmian doesn’t look happy at the prospect.
“I understand it is sudden for both sects, but I believe that is the best course of action, yes. Wangji will treat Wei Wuxian well, and Wei Wuxian will balance our Wangji in turn with his outgoing personality. They can produce heirs, as has been made clear. Where they will live is… flexible.”
“I’m sorry?” Jiang Fengmian says, blinking rapidly.
“My brother cannot return to Cloud Recesses until things calm down. It will not be a conducive environment for A-Yuan or Wei Wuxian. I would ask that if their contract goes through, for the Jiang to take them in until I am at least officially sect leader.”
Madame Yu’s expression has changed. It has turned begrudgingly considering.
“You are only acting sect leader. We can’t get a wedding together in the time it would theoretically take for Lan Qiren to wake up,” she says with a bitter face.
“Not a lavish one, perhaps,” Xichen nods. “But right now, all we need is a wedding. We can hold a more official one later, for appearances.”
The Jiang Sect Leader and his wife are rendered speechless for a moment.
“Are you proposing…” Madame Yu says, already seething. “That my head disciple and your brother elope!?”
“It is not elopement,” Xichen says, this time sounding almost angry. He tries to keep his voice firm only. “It would be with the official blessing of both families, resulting in the legitimization of A-Yuan, and the union would be subject to a contract, just like any noble pairing. The difference will be in the timeframe only.”
“Zewu-jun, forgive me, but this discussion started with the question of your Uncle’s health. To go from that to this is… I do not feel comfortable agreeing to this without speaking to your Uncle first.”
“He will not agree,” Xichen says, and some bitterness bleeds through into his tone. “And both of you know it.”
The couple is silent.
“This is the best way I foresee things working out. You will keep your head disciple for at least another two years, maybe more, depending on how long it takes for me to smooth things over in my sect and come of age. Once they're married, they will not be able to be separated, as the union has obviously been consummated. My Uncle will have no grounds to dissolve it.”
“This does not seem like Lan-like behavior,” Jiang Fengmian says, almost looking unnerved.
“Be noble. Do what is right even through resistance. Be just. These are Lan principles I am living up to by proposing to you this plan. I am here to do what is necessary for the happiness and well-being of my brother and his family.”
Madame Yu has narrowed her eyes at him.
“Wei Wuxian would effectively be a bride. It would be the Lan’s responsibility to house him once he has married into your clan.”
“You would gain my brother’s talents for all the time he would be staying in the Jiang,” Xichen counters. “And we can write it in the contract that the Jiang can take the credit for any of his accomplishments during that time, as well.”
Madame Yu turns a little less malicious-looking.
“I cannot give up A-Xian,” Jiang Femgmian says, shaking his head. “Two years is not enough. Wei Ying was meant to spend his life here, as head disciple and my eldest son’s right-hand man. No dowry or promise between sects can replace that.”
Madame Yu turns to her husband in a rage.
“So you would let him live with a besmirched image instead!? I can tell you’re a man, because you have no idea what it’s like to live as a disgraced mother with an illegitimate child!”
“A-Xian will always be sheltered and taken care of by the Jiang sect,” Jiang Fengmian says stiffly.
“The world is not just the Jiang sect!” Madame Yu snaps back. “He will be working in an official capacity in cultivation conferences, night hunts, and interacting with the gentry during official visits and events! You honestly believe he would not be ridiculed!? Mocked!?”
The Madame has seemingly picked up steam, Zidian crackling on her finger.
“And how will it look on us!? A major sect, incapable of arguing for the right to their head disciples' marriage!? You would make a fool of Wei Wuxian and ourselves!”
“Jiang-zongzhu, this poses a problem for the Lan as well, as A-Yuan is the first Lan heir of his generation. If I were not to have children, he would be in line to inherit the position of sect leader. His legitimacy cannot be in question,” Xichen tries to temper, meeting Madame Yu’s tirade with a more logical, levelheaded approach.
“I will not be handing Wei Wuxian over,” Jiang Fengmain says, and now he sounds irritated. “That is final.”
“You fool! You utter fool!” Madame Yu yells, outraged.
“A-Xian is not disposable,” Jiang Fengmian says, turning away.
“You are ruining his life!”
“He will have a fine future under the Jiang,” Jiang Fengmain is starting to gravel, slightly. He’s getting quite upset.
“Oh, yes, and that won’t fuel the rumours of him being your illegitimate child, of course not!” Madame Yu is standing now, looming over her husband. Zidian has unfurled into its feared, coiled form, lighting working its way up its long body. Jiang Fengmian’s hand has gone to the hilt of his sword, though he still refuses to look at his wife.
“I have refuted such murmurings many times to your face, wife.”
“And yet, in public, the court of opinion still rules in Cangse Sanren’s favor!” Madame Yu roars. “That’s why you’re doing all of this for your favorite ward, right!? Because you were in love with that stupid wretch of a woman!”
“You will not speak of her so!” Jiang Fenfmian finally explodes.
“That got your attention!” Madame Yu says with a cruel laugh. “Hello, husband! It’s Yu Ziyuan, your wife! Welcome to reality!”
“Enough!”
The couple startles. They turn to look at Xichen with expressions resembling deer.
Xichen doesn’t know what face he’s making, but he highly doubts it’s a pleasant one.
“Please,” he says through gritted teeth, ”keep your quarrels to your private quarters and stop wasting my time.”
Jiang Fengmian bows quickly.
“This sect leader and his wife apologize profusely for this lapse of decorum,” he says, an undercurrent of embarrassment strong in his voice. “Perhaps it would be best to continue this conversation at another time.”
With that, he gets up and leaves the room with quick steps.
Madame Yu lets out a scream of rage and goes off in the opposite direction.
Xichen is left sitting on his own in the Jiang’s tastefully decorated meeting hall. He watches them go and doesn’t move for a long, long moment. Then he goes to take a sip of his tea, hoping it will at least calm him a little.
It has gone cold.
He prays for Maiden Jiang’s sanity. He is already losing his own.