The first cat appeared out of nowhere.
One day, the Lotus Throne was empty and waiting for Sect Leader Jiang to sit down and rule, and then there was a shaggy brown cat with white patches curled up on the seat. It raised its head, gave Sect Leader Jiang a long look of absolute contempt, and then snorted like it found him lacking.
Then it closed its eyes and went back to sleep.
No ruling of any kind happened that day.
The second cat was a tiny orange thing with lungs like a tiger and an appearance of something very vulnerable and soft—a complete and utter lie because her greatest pride and joy was to trip each and everyone trying to get near or move in general. Sect Leader Jiang glared at her from the corner of his eye but still put out a cup of water and finely minced, fat fish.
The third cat was actually the third and fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth: a harried-looking, one-eyed mother cat carrying five filthy kittens one by one straight on Sect Leader Jiang’s lap, then sitting in front of him with a demanding meow. As a result, Sect Leader Jiang sighed, carefully gathered his robes around the kittens, and carried them into his private chambers. A servant who was asked to carry in water and delicate, expensive soap later told his fellow servants that Sect Leader Jiang was washing the kittens himself, scolding them under his breath in tune with the mother cat.
The seventh cat, a tiny black thing, took it up to reside in Sect Leader Jiang’s lap during his meetings, hissing at people he didn’t like. Usually, that meant Sect Leader Yao. Sect Leader Jiang did nothing to silence him.
And so it went: every now and then, a stray cat or five wandered in and straight to Sect Leader Jiang, demanded his attention, and was granted shelter. Lotus Pier soon gained a reputation as the safe haven for cats, and petitioners learned quickly that the fastest way to get thrown out was to be rude to its feline residents. (Also, treating the cats with respect and patience was a good way to appeal to Sect Leader Jiang.) But it wasn’t just Sandu Shengshou who narrowed his eyes at anyone disturbing the cats’ peace; the whole Lotus Pier grew fond and protective of them. They kept pests out (including but not limited to actual rodents), calmed down rambunctious children, brought shell-shocked people gently out of their nightmares, and—perhaps most importantly—kept Sect Leader Jiang’s blood pressure at a relatively normal level.
”Jiujiu! CAT!”
Four-years-old Jin Ling’s bright voice rose into a screech at the sight of the cat that sat primly in front of the Sword Hall doors, clearly waiting for them. Jiang Cheng had long ago resigned to the fact that he’d always be on the second place in his nephew’s heart but he had no problem losing to whichever cat happened to walk into view. This time it was Sweetling, the orange cat whose greatest joy was to be on the way.
”Gently,” he reminded A-Ling who obediently stopped to kneel on the ground and wait. Sweetling stood up, stretched and yawned to show her fangs, and then walked to A-Ling to rub herself all over him. It never failed to make A-Ling giggle and it made something ache and swell in Jiang Cheng’s chest.
(”He’s so good with them and he’s only four,” he’d tell a-jie when he visited the family shrine. ”He’s such a good, sweet boy, you can be proud of him.”)
Whenever A-Ling visited, he always had a retinue of cats with him, accompanying him wherever he went. They turned out to be more efficient than human minders: they managed to keep up with him, they could track him, and they were many. All in all, a very successful arrangement.
When A-Ling turned ten, Jin Guangyao gifted him a spiritual dog. Jiang Cheng isn’t sure what he thought to gain from it but it wasn’t like he’d be cruel enough to force A-Ling to leave her in Lanling. So, as it was, Fairy was the only dog permitted on Lotus Pier.
She was a smart dog—as spiritual dogs are meant to be—and bowed down to the cats after only minimal scratches and a couple of short hissing fits. Until Fluffybug arrived, that was.
If asked, Jiang Cheng couldn’t have said where it came from, what it had been through, or how old it was. The morning A-Ling was supposed to arrive for his summer stay, a massive, black cat sauntered in and let out a hiss that made something go cold in Jiang Cheng’s gut. It had a mangy fur, right ear partially torn, and unsetting, bright yellow eyes. It was terrifying and Jiang Cheng fell instantly in love.
Fluffybug—yes, that was her name because Jiang Cheng decided so—adored A-Ling. All other cats shied away from her and bowed to her authority which meant that she shadowed A-Ling everywhere. She slept in A-Ling’s bed and purred so loud on his lap that sometimes Jiang Cheng gave up on conversation altogether. He could always shout but he’d rather not wake her.
Fairy absolutely loved Fluffybug. Sadly, the sentiment wasn’t mutual which led to a heartbroken Fairy whining softly from the doorway as Fluffybug stared at her with death in her eyes. Jiang Cheng steeled his heart to tell A-Ling that if Fluffybug had made her mind, there was little he could do to change it—but he could always visit more often to acclimate her to Fairy better. (It didn’t work but it made A-Ling visit more often.)
When Wei fucking Wuxian came back, Jiang Cheng seethed hard enough to make the whole Lotus Pier uncomfortable. He wanted to tear things to pieces, hack something, punch someone, scream—anything! He ended up sitting on his bed and swearing for three shichens straight with four cats on his lap purring so hard he was vibrating (curiously, Fluffybug wasn’t one of them). It made him feel better but the familiar bitterness stayed.
After the second siege of Burial Mounds, the rattled cultivators gathered on Lotus Pier, and, naturally, Wei Wuxian with his guard dog were among them. Jiang Cheng couldn’t exactly forbid them from entering the premises but he could forbid them from the Sword Hall—especially when Fluffybug was sitting right there, hissing at Wei Wuxian.
”Jiang Cheng, what the fuck is that?” Wei Wuxian’s incredulous voice squeaked.
”That,” he replied icily, ”is Fluffybug. And if she says you cannot enter, you will not.” Then he turned on his heel and marched in, leaving Fluffybug staring down his unwanted visitors.
(So, imagine his utter disappointment later, when he was walking Sisi and Bicao back, and saw Fluffybug purring on Wei Wuxian’s lap. He took comfort in knowing that particular purr meant that if Wei Wuxian stopped petting her even for a moment, she would bite him.)
Later, when everything was said and done, Jiang Cheng’s life still had a Wei Wuxian-shaped hole. He returned to Lotus Pier and aggressively stroked Fluffybug until she took his hand in her mouth and very deliberately looked him in the eye.
”What,” he said flatly.
Fluffybug added a bit more pressure, just enough to not pierce the skin, but even a hair’s breadth more, and Jiang Cheng would have four puncture marks in his hand.
”He left. Again,” he grumbled. ”And no, I didn’t invite him here. Why should I? He already made it very clear that he wants nothing to do with me. Besides—”
”Sect Leader! A letter,” Lu Wang, one of his senior disciples announced from the door.
”Would you mind?” Jiang Cheng asked Fluffybug who didn’t mind and let go of his hand.
It was from Wei Wuxian, a measly note with a handful of messily scribbled characters.
So I found this kitten. I fed it some unsalted, raw fish and it ate and then fell asleep on my lap. What should I do with it? I can’t move because then it wakes up and lets out this pitiful little whine and I’m not a monster, Jiang Cheng!
Despite himself, Jiang Cheng snorted.
There’s nothing you can do, he replied. When a cat has chosen you, you’re theirs now. Congratulations. No going back.
He gritted his jaw and shot a sideways look at Fluffybug.
Bring them to visit. Fluffybug wants to meet her niece or nephew.
”There. I invited them over,” he said. ”Satisfied?”
Fluffybug blinked very slowly at him and started to purr.
Fine.