When Sect Leader Yao Yongzheng dies, he fully expects to move on. Instead, he comes to in a nondescript chamber of undefined proportions bathed in light that’s neither day nor dusk.
”Hello?” he asks, feeling slightly annoyed. Truly, this is not what he expected when he drew his last breath on his sickbed, surrounded by the proper number of disciples and family.
”Oh, it’s you,” a disembodied voice says, sounding unimpressed.
”What do you mean, it’s me?” Yongzheng demands. ”Who else would it be? I died and now I’m supposed to move on, and instead, I’m here! What is this? How dare you keep me in here—do you know who I am?”
”Unfortunately, yes,” the voice says.
Yongzheng puffs up in indignation. ”How dare you treat me like this? Indeed I am a proper cultivator, dedicated my life to justice and—”
”Mmm…but did you really?”
”—to protect—what?”
”Did you really dedicate your life to justice and protection of the weak? From what I observed, that was hardly the case. Instead, you dedicated your life to being the loudest voice in the room but always making sure you never had to be the one to actually pay the price of the so-called justice.”
Yongzheng opens his mouth, then closes it, and opens it again. ”That’s—how—rude!”
”Is it rude when it’s the truth?” the voice hums.
Yongzheng draws himself to his full height. ”I would like you to know that making decisions is hard. It takes perseverance and—and strength of character and sense of justice and—and strength!”
”You said strength twice,” the voice points out.
Yongzheng scoffs and then flinches slightly as a shape emerges from the un-light, a tall shadow of a vaguely human-like shape.
”Truth is, you were a man who loved the sound of his own voice,” the shape says, voice drifting over to him like a half-forgotten scent. ”So, how about you put that voice to better use and show what good you actually are.”
”What?”
Something about the shape gives off a sense of a shrug. ”Throughout your life, you were very eager to claim you always knew what was going on, always claimed to know the hearts of men. I’m merely giving you the chance to prove it.”
”What?” Yongzheng repeats, and then he yelps when the un-light brightens to the point of pain and the room that isn’t a room dissolves around him. And then—
”—Leader?”
”What?” Yongzheng gasps, disoriented. He’s standing in the middle of the main hall, hand in the air, clearly having an important conversation.
”You were saying something, Sect Leader,” Yao Meixiu says patiently.
”Well, obviously—” Yongzheng starts and then stops. Stares at his first disciple. ”Meixiu—”
”Yes?”
”How old are you?”
His first disciple blinks, slightly confused. ”Ah, I’m 31, Sect Leader?”
”That can’t be right! Can it?”
”Unless my birthday was marked incorrectly, it is my age,” Meixiu replies. ”Sect Leader, may I ask what this is about?”
Yongzheng raises a hand to his chin—his bare chin!—and falters. That can’t be right, either! He’s had his magnificent beard for decades! What in the name of the Heavens is going on here? ”Mirror!” he suddenly says, whirling around. ”Do we have a mirror?”
”Uh,” Meixiu says, then he sighs and gestures at a disciple Yongzheng is pretty sure is supposed to be dead, and they hurry out. ”Did you have a sunstroke when you were out walking?”
”Why would I—never mind. If you’re 31, then I’m 33. Right?”
”Unless your birthday was also marked incorrectly, yes,” Meixiu says and then adds as an afterthought, ”Sect Leader.”
Then the disciple hurries in with the mirror. Yongzheng snags it and brings it in front of his face to see his too-smooth, too-young face, and promptly passes out.
He wakes up in his bed, still too young, still with no beard.
”Did you have a sunstroke, Sect Leader?” Meixiu asks. ”You’re behaving strangely.”
He was supposed to move on, to drink Meng Po’s soup but he’s here, apparently in the past? And if he’s 33, that means the previous generation of sect leaders should also be alive which means that—oh. Wen Ruohan is also alive.
Shit.
That means all horrors of the war are still ahead, still going to happen unless he does something about it. But there’s nothing to be done! Wen Ruohan was too smart and too powerful, and the only one who openly dared to confront him was Wei Wux—
Wait.
He sits up in his bed and asks, ”Meixiu, have you heard anything of rogue cultivators Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze?”
Meixiu looks very much like he’d like to fetch a healer. ”Only that they were loosely affiliated with the Jiang clan. What—”
Yongzheng sets his feet on the floor with a decisive thump. ”Inform my wife that we’re going to Yiling.”
”Your wife?” Meixiu asks, looking alarmed. ”Sect Leader, you’re not married!”
He snorts. ”What are you talking about—of course I am!”
”Your wedding isn’t until in two weeks’ time,” Meixiu exclaims. ”Sect Leader, I really must insist that you see a healer!”
”What? No, I don’t. I’m perfectly fine. I merely assumed I was already married, as the thought of my lovely Qiuyue feels so familiar already.”
”This morning, you said she looks like a drowned chicken and you did not want to get married but would do it anyway because it was your mother’s dying wish,” Meixiu says.
”Nonsense!” Yongzheng exclaims. ”My mother was a wise woman and I’m more than happy to be a filial son and fulfill her wish. Now! To Yiling!”
Meixiu sighs. ”Yes, Sect Leader.”
On their way to Yiling, Yao Yongzheng tries to remember everything that had happened in the past—in the different past that would now be the future unless he did something to make sure it wouldn’t.
From the revised biography of The Yiling Patriarch, he knows that Wei Wuxian had lived on the streets of Yiling for years before Jiang Fengmian found him. Then he’d become the pride and fall of the Jiang clan and then he’d had his tragic love story with Hanguang-jun before falling to his death in Nightless City, only to rise again 16 years later and…well. Not if Yao Yongzheng has anything to say about it.
And he has plenty to say but sadly, no one to say it to. Meixiu already looks at him like he’s lost his mind which, fine, might be a valid reaction to his behavior today so far, yes. He probably should write all his experiences down before he forgets about it all.
”Sect Leader, what are we doing in Yiling?”
”We’re fetching a child.”
”…a child.”
”Yes,” Yongzheng replies.
”From where?”
”From the street. His parents are dead and we’re taking him in.”
”I see.” Meixiu clearly doesn’t see but he’s a good first disciple and doesn’t question him, Yao Yongzheng, his Sect Leader. At least not out loud—his silent skepticism is glaringly obvious.
Yiling is as busy and as oppressive as Yongzheng remembers from the siege of Burial Mounds—both of them. The accursed place looms above the town like a malevolent spirit, making the air heavy and uncomfortable. The townspeople don’t seem to care much. Probably because they aren’t cultivators and therefore don’t feel the resentful energy leaking from Burial Mounds. It does take a certain character to sense things like that, after all.
”The child…”Meixiu asks. ”What does he look like? How old is he? And what’s his name?”
Yongzheng opens his mouth and then pauses. ”He…looks like a child? I have no idea how old he is but his name is Wei Ying.”
”Ah,” Meixiu says and beckons at the four disciples accompanying them. ”Ask for Wei Ying, try not to scare him.” The disciples bow and walk off, and then Meixiu looks at Yongzheng.
”Yes?” he asks.
Meixiu shakes his head. ”Nothing. Let’s go find your child.”
”To be clear, he isn’t mine—” he starts and stops when Meixiu barks a laugh.
”Oh, I know that.”
”What’s that supposed to mean?” Yongzheng asks, indignant, but it seems like Meixiu doesn’t hear him. Must be the Burial Mounds’ influence.
It takes them the whole day to find Wei Ying, most likely due to his small size. Which is…very small indeed.
And suspicious.
”Who are you?” Wei Ying asks, narrowing his eyes at Yongzheng.
”I am Sect Leader Yao,” Yongzheng says, drawing to his full height.
”I don’t know you,” Wei Ying says with none of the awe appropriate to Yongzheng’s declaration.
Meixiu sighs and shakes his head, then kneels down next to Wei Ying. ”We know your mama and baba are cultivators like us—” he shows Wei Ying his sword and prompts Yongzheng to do the same, ”—do you know where they are?”
Wei Ying shakes his head.
”How long have you been alone, Wei Ying?” Meixiu asks gently and gets only a shrug as the answer.
Yongzheng clears his throat. ”How old are you?”
”A-Ying is four!” Wei Ying says proudly, spreading all fingers of his right hand.
”Right,” Meixiu says, glancing at Yongzheng. ”When was the last time you ate, A-Ying?”
The child scrunches up his nose. ”It was wet? A-Ying saw melon rinds on the ground.”
Both Meixiu and Yongzheng look at the dry ground and then at each other.
”Right,” Meixiu says again. ”I think we need to eat.” He holds up his hand at the child. ”Come on, A-Ying.”
They rent a room from an inn, order a bath and a set of child’s clothes (A-Ying’s old ones will need to be burned), and a light dinner. Meixiu bathes the child with the experience of being an uncle to three kids, and at the end of the day, Yongzheng feeds dumplings and weak tea to the half-asleep child Yiling Patriarch.
”What are you going to do now, Sect Leader?” Meixiu asks.
”I’m going to take him home and make him my ward,” Yongzheng says without thinking.
But now that he thinks about it, it’s the only logical step forward. The Jiang clearly cannot be trusted with Wei Wuxian: all plays made of the Yiling Patriarch’s tragic childhood tell a clear story of how Madam Yu hated his guts and whipped him without provocation—no wonder he grew up to defy all authorities! However, Wei Wuxian was a genius, and having him as a part of the Yao sect would only make them stronger.
Yes! That’s a genius plan!
Meixiu coughs like he choked on his tea, and Yongzheng claps him on the back a couple of times. ”What—what about your future wife?” he asks, sounding strangled.
He already knows they’ll never get biological children of their own. ”What about her? Qiuyue likes children.”
”Of course, Sect Leader,” Meixiu sighs. He sounds tired. He probably should go to bed.
”You should rest, Meixiu,” Yongzheng says graciously. ”I’ll put the child to bed.”
”Yes, Sect Leader,” Meixiu says and doesn’t sound grateful at all.
Wei Ying is a lovely, quiet child who listens to Yongzheng with rapt attention and wonder, making him feel like the most important man in the world…
…all of a whole four days, and then he turns into an unholy terror who never sleeps and who somehow manages to get to places not even Yongzheng was aware of.
Who knew the demonic Yiling Patriarch exhibited his true nature this early in childhood?
”He’s a child,” Meixiu says, amused. ”He was a street kid, now he’s probably feeling somewhat safe, and he’s experimenting with his boundaries.”
”I would appreciate his boundaries to be more…more…”
Meixiu is smiling now. ”Yes?”
”Restrictive!” Yongzheng bellows. ”Appropriate! Existing!”
”Is shushu angry?” Wei Ying’s small voice calls from the door. When Yongzheng whirls around, ready to reprimand him, he sees wide, wet eyes and a small child trying to curl into something even smaller.
Yongzheng sighs as his indignation leaves him with a whoosh. ”A-Ying should remember that bringing frogs into the main hall during a banquet is not appropriate.”
”A-Ying is sorry!” the child says, and now his lower lip is trembling and it makes something in Yongzheng seize up.
”I’m not angry, A-Ying,” he hurries to say and then barely has the time to prepare himself when the child barrels across the room and into his arms.
”Okay!” A-Ying exclaims, hugs him so hard that it’s momentarily hard to breathe, and then shoots him a grin before rushing out of the room.
”You were just played,” Meixiu says, now openly grinning.
Yongzheng clears his throat, stands up, and straightens his robes. That was totally planned, he tells himself. Absolutely.
His wedding to Liu Qiuyue goes without a major hitch—meaning that they end up married. A-Ying is both an adorable addition to the process and a nerve-wracking loose arrow who still somehow ends up sitting on Qiuyue’s grandmother’s lap and being hand-fed sweets.
If he’s completely honest, he didn’t remember his wife to be this lovely. He remembers the thin woman with narrow lips and a frown between her brows, always ready to remind Yongzheng of his failures. But now, Qiuyue is young and smiling and the look in her eyes hasn’t yet turned sour for the bitterness of never having a child of her own. Back in the past—future—um, possible future that Yongzheng is going to change for sure, yes—he was too disappointed and frustrated with the situation to actually stop and think about what to do, a mistake he’s not going to make again.
Hm…wasn’t one of the Wen branch families specialized in medical cultivation? He probably should look into it. Meanwhile, there’s no reason why he shouldn’t show his new wife just what an accomplished lover she married.
Life goes on. The Yao sect slowly grows in strength and size, and Yongzheng keeps an eye on A-Ying for the possibility of demonic tendencies. The unusual kind, not the kind A-Ying shows almost on a daily basis. (Was this the reason Lan Qiren always looked like he was on the brink of qi-deviation when Wei Wuxian opened his mouth?) As the child grows, he develops his golden core at a mind-boggling pace, reaching the stage of getting his own sword at the age of ten.
Yao Yongzheng isn’t sure whether to be terrified or amazed. He ends up boasting about A-Ying to everyone he encounters instead. Ouyang Nianzu, his most frequent audience, huffs an exasperated, ”Why don’t you adopt him officially then, if he’s so amazing?” He sounds bitter but that’s probably because his marriage agreement fell through after his bride-to-be ran away with a merchant, so Yongzheng is willing to forgive his sour comment.
Truth to be told, he hadn’t thought about that but now that Nianzu mentioned it—even if it was meant to be a joke—he can’t quite ignore the thought.
”Wife,” he says a couple of weeks after the comment. ”How do you feel about A-Ying?”
Qiuyue gives him a flat look. ”Do you mean, on a normal day or on a day when he decided to rip the new silk drapes into ribbons to make more challenging archery targets?”
Yongzheng winces. ”Ah,” he says. He probably should’ve waited a week or three before asking.
”He is clever, mischievous, uppity, unconventional, quick,” his wife starts, ticking off her fingers as she counts. ”But he’s also a natural genius, he’s very good with young disciples, he’s brave and selfless.” She thinks for a moment. ”He’s also probably bored out of his mind.”
”Why do you say that?” Yongzheng asks.
”When was the last time you saw him reading something?”
He scoffs the argument off. ”He’s a young boy! It’s only natural that he isn’t interested in books.”
”No, husband,” Qiuyue says, sounding like he’s being purposefully obtuse. ”It’s because he memorized the whole content of our library by the time he was eight.”
Yongzheng stares. ”But—but he’s eleven!”
”Yes.”
Oh.
”Why don’t you reach out to some of the major sects and ask for help with an exceptionally bright ward?”
Yao Yongzheng has been wondering how to get into contact with especially the Lan sect in some less formal way than Discussion Conferences, and now he has the way. What a stroke of genius it was to consult his wife!
”If you construct your letter in a way that lets them think you’re somewhat out of your depth with a talent like his and hope their methods would help, they’ll probably be more than eager to show superiority over a minor sect,” Qiuyue adds.
Yongzheng nods, even though he’s absolutely in no way out of his depth. He sits down to compose the letter straight away.
That night, feeling very good about himself, he asks as they’ve settled to bed, ”Oh, I almost forgot: how about I made A-Ying my heir?”
So, at the tender age of eleven, Wei Ying is a fresh Sect Heir and on his way to Cloud Recesses, the residence of the Gusu Lan sect. Yao Yongzheng is escorting the boy himself, feeling like some distance from his wife might do some good. To be absolutely clear: they’re not arguing because that would require talking to each other and Qiuyue hasn’t said a word to him since he suggested making A-Ying his heir.
Perhaps it would’ve been prudent to prepare her for the conversation a bit better.
Anyway, they’re now on their way. This is A-Ying’s first long-distance travel on his sword and he’s doing amazingly well. His control over the sword is remarkable after only one year of practice. Yongzheng can’t wait to tell Ouyang Nianzu.
”Please, try to behave,” he says to A-Ying when they stop at an inn for the night. ”Gusu Lan is an old and prestigious major sect, they’re very traditional.”
”You mean uptight?” A-Ying asks with a raised brow while pouring half a bottle of chili oil on his noodles.
”Traditional,” Yongzheng says pointedly. ”And if you behave, they might let you into their library.”
A-Ying puts down his noodles and raises three fingers. ”This A-Ying promises to try to behave to the best of his ability!” he intones.
Yongzheng stifles a sigh. That promise doesn’t really, well, promise much.
They arrive at Gusu around noon the next day, and A-Ying is instantly charmed by the mountain, the stairs, the gate, the wards at the gate, the forehead ribbons, the way how easily the wards fall, and the cold stare of one Second Young Master Lan.
”Wow, this place is really something!” A-Ying exclaims. ”Shushu, look! Look at this! And this! And—”
”Sect Leader Yao,” Lan Qiren says through his teeth. He looks young but he’s already sporting his beard. Yongzheng tells himself he isn’t jealous.
”Acting Sect Leader Lan,” Yongzheng says and bows deep. ”Let me start by apologizing. This child isn’t malicious but has a very quick and interested mind as you can probably see for yourself.”
Lan Qiren’s nostrils flare as A-Ying tugs at Lan Wangji’s sleeve and lets out a bright, delighted laugh.
”A-Ying, come here and introduce yourself!” he bellows, offering another apologetic look at Lan Qiren.
The boy bounces over with a grin, and then in a flash, morphs into a serious Young Master. He executes a perfect bow and says, ”Wei Ying, courtesy Wuxian, of the Yao Sect greets Teacher Lan.”
Lan Qiren’s brow twitches. ”Wei…?”
Yongzheng opens his mouth to answer but A-Ying beats him to it. ”Yes!” the boy says brightly. ”Officially, I go by the Yao Sect Heir of course, but Shushu says I can use the surname Wei if I want to.”
”He’s the orphaned son of Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren,” Yongzheng adds. ”His name is all he has left of his parents.” Also, Yongzheng felt like keeping Wei Wuxian’s name the same as in the previous timeline would be a good thing.
Lan Qiren’s face goes through something strange. ”I see,” he finally says. ”If I’ve understood correctly, Jiang Fengmian has been looking for him as well.”
Yongzheng draws himself to his full height which, next to Lan Qiren, sadly isn’t that much. ”Well, he can’t have him. I found him first.”
”…I see,” Lan Qiren repeats slowly, staring at A-Ying who had bounced back to Lan Wangji and now tries to get a reaction out of him.
”I truly am at my wits’ end with him,” Yongzheng says in a low voice. ”As I stated in my letter, the Yao sect would appreciate it immensely if the Lan sect could offer more challenging material to A-Ying.”
”Mn,” Lan Qiren huffs haughtily. ”We’ll see about that.”
A-Ying causes only three minor catastrophes and one spontaneous fight in the first evening, and curiously enough, it’s the last incident that prompts Lan Qiren to give him a chance. Apparently, the illustrious Hanguang-jun is a child prodigy just like A-Ying, and apart from his brother, no one has been able to beat him. Until A-Ying.
The next day, Lan Qiren tests the boy himself with an all-suffering air, only to narrow his eyes and move into more and more complicated questions. Yongzheng loses interest when he no longer understands the words that come out of either of their mouths and settles to write a letter to his dear wife. (Meixiu told him he should do that.)
It’s close to dinner time when Lan Qiren lets out a long breath, snaps his sleeves behind him, and gives A-Ying a long, hard look. ”You are the most brilliant and most annoying child I’ve encountered in a long time.”
”Thank you!” A-Ying says brightly.
”That wasn’t a compliment,” Lan Qiren mutters.
Fortunately, Lan Qiren ends up being more intrigued by A-Ying’s genius than offended by his lack of manners, and A-Ying ends up staying in the Cloud Recesses while Yongzheng returns home. He takes the long route—only because he feels like it would be courteous to inform Sect Leader Jiang personally about A-Ying, not because he isn’t sure whether his bed will still be in his bedroom or out in the back by the compost. Anyway, Sect Leader Jiang is relieved to hear A-Ying is alive and well and Yongzheng flies home feeling smug of the invitation to spend some time on Lotus Pier.
What an auspicious decision he’d made when he’d decided to take Wei Ying in!
A-Ying’s letters home are his usual rambling style of anything and everything. He seems to be enjoying his time in the Cloud Recesses and has already made close acquaintances with both Lan Wangji and the Lan healers (These two things seem to be separate. Yongzheng is relieved.)
Lan Qiren’s letters are more perfunctory and curt but his delight in having a pupil who challenges him in every way shines through his dry remarks. He also asks if the Yao sect would be willing to host Lan Wangji because apparently A-Ying invited him over.
Yongzheng agrees, of course; cultivating relations with two major sects at this point is only a good thing. He also remembers the way the young Hanguang-jun’s intense eyes had followed A-Ying from the moment they first met.
Who knew Hanguang-jun was a cutsleeve already!
…and if their relationship progresses as it did in the past future (although hopefully with less murder, madness, and falling from cliffs), Yongzheng will end up being Hanguang-jun’s father-in-law.
While A-Ying is away, Yongzheng keeps a keen ear on the happenings of the cultivation world. Wen Ruohan is gathering power and tightening the noose around smaller sects but with Yongzheng’s knowledge of the things to come, he’s been able to prepare: he remembers where the Wen troops came through in the past-future and he’s been applying A-Ying’s new wards and early warning talismans liberally around their territory. Sect Leader Jin proves to be just as lecherous as Yongzheng knew he’d be, so he starts to slowly shift his affiliation from Lanling to Qinghe, nudging Baling Ouyang along. Thanks to the foresight Yongzheng had to start selling selected A-Ying’s talisman designs, they aren’t as dependent on Lanling as they were in the past—future—in the time Yongzheng remembers.
A-Ying returns from Gusu a head taller than he went in, and with a stoic Lan Wangji in tow. To Yongzheng’s bemusement, A-Ying asks for a private meeting with him and Qiuyue as soon as Lan Wangji has settled in, and when they sit down for tea, he looks uncharacteristically nervous.
”Shushu, Shimu,” A-Ying says and bows. ”While I was at the Cloud Recesses, I had the chance to read very extensively on every topic that interested me. One of those topics was medical cultivation. The Lan healers are very accomplished and let me ask a lot of questions!”
”That’s nice, A-Ying,” Qiuyue says, raising a brow. ”But you didn’t need a private meeting to tell us that.”
”That’s not—I—” he pauses and bites his lip, then straightens and looks at Qiuyue. ”Shimu, you and Shushu have been married for as long as I’ve been a part of this sect. Yet, you don’t have a child of your own. Back in the Cloud Recesses, I talked with the healers about this—not that I said it was about you! I just asked about medical cultivation in general and how much we can do to affect the human body and if one could use cultivation to prevent having a child or helping to have one!”
Yongzheng and Qiuyue share a bewildered look.
”And I think I found it! A way. To help!”
”What?” Qiuyue says in a faint voice.
”Well, there was this young couple who had been married for almost ten years and didn’t yet have a child, and the Lan have this medication for it but it wasn’t helping, so I wondered if I could come up with a talisman—it was really interesting even though Teacher Lan said looking at it gave him a headache—and then I tested it on a mare to be safe.”
Yongzheng chokes on his tea. ”You tested—what?”
A-Ying nods. ”Did you know the Lan have their own stables and they breed their own horses? They have this whole no-pets-allowed rule but apparently, horses aren’t pets?” A-Ying tilts his head and frowns. ”I’m not sure I understand the logic. But anyway, they had this one gorgeous mare they’d tried to breed for ages and it didn’t work so they used basically the same medication as they did for humans and I asked if I could try out my talisman. I was, like, almost completely totally sure it was safe. And it was. And it worked!” He beams at them.
Yongzheng clears his throat. ”And then what happened?”
”Well, then I presented Teacher Lan with the results with detailed instruction and theory and all that boring stuff, and then the childless couple wanted to try it out.”
Yongzheng shares another, incredulous look with his wife. ”Did it work?”
A-Ying deflates. ”I don’t know yet. I had to leave before I found out. But—” he pauses and looks at them with wide, imploring eyes. ”But if you want to, you can have the talisman and the medication. I asked permission from the Lan healers before I left. It’s just—” he stops and ducks his head. ”You deserve to have a real family.”
”Nonsense!” Yongzheng exclaims and then hurriedly backtracks when he realizes what he just said. ”I mean that with or without other children, you are part of our family, A-Ying.”
”But if this talisman truly works…” Qiuyue adds slowly.
”I shall write to Lan Qiren at once!” Yongzheng declares, almost stumbling on his robes in his hurry.
What follows is a somewhat awkward correspondence with the Lan healers and the couple A-Ying talked about. They manage to conceive and eventually have a healthy baby girl and the Lan healers declare the whole process the greatest work of advanced medical cultivation in the last century or three. This means that not only is Yongzheng very proud of the Yao Sect’s part in the whole thing, but he’s also going to finally get his wife pregnant.
Obviously, he knows the talisman and medication work because they’re the work of both A-Ying and the Lan healers but he decides to double the dosage anyway. Just to be safe—you never know if the effects of the time travel thing might try to undo the legacy Yongzheng is rightfully entitled to. It would be terrible if he lived his life again without any biological offspring, wouldn’t it?
…that being said, he does feel a bit faint when the healers confirm not one, not two, but three new lives growing inside Qiuyue’s belly.
(It doesn’t stop him from lamenting to Ouyang Nianzu how expensive it will be to commission three spiritual swords at once when the time comes, and he enjoys the sour look immensely.)
A-Ying adores his new siblings which is a good thing because triplets are a lot of work. Frankly, if Yongzheng had known babies would be this much work, he wouldn’t have agreed to try out the talisman. Qiuyue flatly informs him that she will never share his bed again and he’s secretly relieved that she said it first.
A-Bai, A-Fang, and A-Kai’s 100-day celebration is a resounding success. Due to A-Ying’s friendship with the Jiang siblings and Young Masters Nie and Lan, Yongzheng is extremely proud when three major sects grace the celebration with their presence. What he isn’t that happy about is that apparently Lan Wangji kissed A-Ying in plain sight of the guests (something to do with A-Ying with his arms full of babies? These boys are barely fourteen, they have no business to be kissing anyone!)—until he realizes what an excellent opportunity it is to wrangle a marriage agreement with the Lan.
Yongzheng is very satisfied with himself that day.
(It takes him several years to realize that with the marriage contract, the Lan also bagged a talisman genius of unparalleled skill. No wonder Lan Qiren had been so easy to talk into the deal.)
As time goes on, Yongzheng finds it increasingly difficult to keep an ear out for everything that he should be keeping an ear out. He knows he should do something about Wen Ruohan but…there’s just so much to do, so many things to take care of. Turns out, being a full-time father and a sect leader is surprisingly hard work. He says this to Meixiu one day and then sulks the rest of the day when Meixiu laughs at his face.
”He just doesn’t understand,” Yongzheng sighs one day.
”Mn. Yeah,” A-Ying says. ”So, anyway, here’s the report, Shushu. Wen Ruohan is getting increasingly paranoid and apparently experimenting on…something? I’m not sure yet what.”
Yongzheng beams. Such a hard-working, filial boy, his A-Ying. Must be his own good influence on him, digging relentlessly into Wen Ruohan’s plans. ”How did you even find out about all of this?” he asks.
”Oh, this?” A-Ying shrugs, looking a bit sheepish. ”So, remember that night-hunt I was on some months ago? When I came back pretty much in my underwear? Yeah, I ran into Wen Ning—he’s Wen Ruohan’s cousin’s son and his jie is Wen Ruohan’s personal doctor. He’s really nice but a little shy, even though he’s a pretty decent archer.”
In Yongzheng’s experience, ”shy” compared to A-Ying meant the boy was perfectly normal, and if A-Ying said he was a ”pretty decent archer,” he was better than most.
”He’d been night-hunting with some other Wen disciples and they just left him in the woods? Alone? And with a broken leg.” A-Ying’s voice is decidedly disapproving, as is right and proper. ”So I helped him to safety and set his leg and then fed him. When no one came to fetch him, I carried him back home. His jie was really glad, although she scolded A-Ning a lot. She was a bit scary but A-Ning said she only brandishes her needles when she’s worried.”
And just like that, A-Ying had become friends with people in Wen Ruohan’s inner circle. Yongzheng tries to give him some careful advice on how to proceed, to warn him about Wen Ruohan’s volatile and unpredictable temperament but A-Ying doesn’t seem willing to listen to him. Young people, always so headstrong! However, luck is on their side, and in a series of events that A-Ying refuses to tell him about (and that leave him bedridden with an impending qi-deviation and more broken bones than should be possible), Wen Ruohan and his sons end up dead.
Wen Qing, the scary jie A-Ying talked about, takes up the position of Sect Leader Wen, dismantles the role of Chief Cultivator, and the whole cultivation world is in disarray for a couple of years after that.
In the silence of his mind, Yongzheng is happy. Women just don’t have what it takes to be Chief Cultivators anyway.
In the aftermath of Wen Ruohan’s fall, Yongzheng starts to think about a motto. Most minor sects don’t have one but considering everything that’s happened, he feels like the Yao sect earns one. Perhaps something like…Toward the unfathomable and beyond?
Hm. Perhaps not. A too-long motto is unwieldy, even though it has the spirit he’s reaching for.
He tries to ask A-Ying about it but the boy doesn’t take his question seriously and goes on about his dream of roving the countryside with his Cultivation Partner (aka Lan Wangji) and helping the poor and unfortunate. ”My only fear is that it’ll take me too far away from Pingyang,” he says, sounding heartbroken. ”I want to help people but if I’m away, I can’t help you, Shushu!”
There might be a solution for that, Yongzheng muses. ”A-Ying…do you really want to be the Sect Heir?” he asks carefully.
”If I say no, will you kick me out of the sect?” A-Ying asks in a near-whisper.
”Absolutely not!” Yongzheng says immediately. That would be detrimental! The Yao sect would lose its reputation and all the money A-Ying brings in with his talismans! And the ties to the Lan!
”Oh, well, that’s good to hear,” A-Ying says with a relieved smile. ”Because even though I love it here and I love teaching the juniors and to help you, Shushu, I really think that A-Kai would be a lot better fit. He has your serious mindset. You think very much alike.”
Yongzheng preens. Of the now five-year-old triplets, A-Kai feels most closest to him. A-Bai is very much like her mother and A-Fang has taken a real shine on Lan Wangji for some reason. She’s even picked up an interest in learning the qin, for which Lan Wangji is very proud. (According to A-Ying. Yongzheng is still unable to interpret the young Hanguang-jun’s facial expressions.)
And so, in a quiet ceremony, A-Ying gives up the title of Sect Heir and beams as the sect records are corrected. He then kneels in front of A-Kai, raises three fingers up, and says, ”This Xian-gege promises to teach the new Yao Sect Heir all he knows!”
It’s very endearing but Yongzheng hopes A-Ying doesn’t actually teach everything he knows. That would be…overwhelming to say the least.
When A-Ying turns nineteen, he and Lan Wangji marry. After A-Ying’s status as the Sect Heir changes, the marriage is slightly less advantageous to the Lan but what A-Ying might lack in status, he more than makes up as genius. A-Ying and his husband travel far and wide, carrying along all A-Ying’s genius inventions and the knowledge that he hails from the Pingyang Yao sect.
All in all, Yao Yongzheng is very satisfied with the changes he managed to make and the lives he saved. In the past-future, the whole cultivation world was ravaged by war and suspicion at this point, and his own sect was practically decimated. Now, the sects live in relative peace, his sect is prospering, and he has three children of his own lineage. Three! And to top it all off, he managed to tame the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, Yiling Patriarch himself!
What a stroke of luck indeed, to travel into the past to raise Wei Wuxian as his own.
This time, when Sect Leader Yao Yongzheng dies, he does it peacefully as the respected Elder of his sect, surrounded by so much family that his friends can’t fit in the room.
This time, he truly expects to move on, so when he comes to in the oddly familiar, nondescript chamber of undefined proportions bathed in light that’s neither day nor dusk, he definitely feels annoyed.
”Oh, you again,” the disembodied voice says.
”Why am I here?” Yongzheng demands. ”I did what you asked—I put myself on the line and single-handedly changed the future, made it better. I deserve to move on!”
”Really,” the voice says. Then it sighs. ”Oh, fine, whatever. At least you won’t remember any of this later to falsely boast yourself.”
Yongzheng draws breath. ”Falsely?” he questions, outraged. ”I’ll have you know that I worked very hard indeed—”
The voice sighs. ”Goodbye, Sect Leader Yao. May we never meet again.”