Rationally, Sizhui knows there’s nothing to worry about. He’s been invited, after all (the letter is tucked safely in his robes for safekeeping), and whatever animosities were (still is?) between the previous generation, he’s here for…well. A fresh start, so to speak. Besides, Hanguang-jun and Senior Wei know where he is, at least approximately; he hasn’t told them he’ll be visiting now—Senior Wei tends to be overprotective, but he has nothing on Hanguang-jun, not when it comes to this.
The gate guards inclice their heads at him, the other raising a brow.
”Sizhui! What are you doing, standing there like that?” Jin Ling yells, marching to him. His dog is nowhere in sight.
”Ah. Hello Jin Ling,” Sizhui says and tries to bow.
”Aish, none of that,” Jin Ling says and rolls his eyes. ”Come on, Jiujiu is waiting.”
Lan Sizhui takes a breath and walks into Lotus Pier.
Of course he knows who Sect Leader Jiang is.
He’s Sandu Shengshou, the youngest Sect Leader of the Sunshot Generation, wielder of Zidian, a fierce and powerful cultivator who built Yunmeng Jiang from the rubble up back to its former glory and beyond. A shrewd businessman with a sharp tongue and no tolerance for fools.
A man banned by all matchmakers in Yunmeng and its surrounding regions.
A dedicated uncle.
A loving brother.
Sizhui is aware of all the descriptors, even the last claim, at least by proxy. But he doesn’t know the man behind all the titles and descriptions, the one Jin Ling talks about fondly and to whom he yells and barks back in ways that sometimes make Sizhui flinch even after all these years of their friendship.
”Lan Sizhui,” Sect Leader Jiang says. ”Welcome to Lotus Pier. It’s about time.”
He smiles and bows. ”Thank you for the invitation, Sect Leader Jiang,” he says.
For a moment, no one says anything. A bit to the side, Jin Ling sighs in the way Sizhui just knows is accompanied by an eyeroll he’s probably learned from his uncle.
Sect Leader Jiang clears his throat. ”You can use his room. A-Ling will show you the way.”
”I’m not your servant,” Jin Ling snaps.
”You’re my nephew and you will show my guest to his room, or I’ll break your legs,” Sect Leader Jiang snaps back before stalking off.
Jin Ling huffs and jerks his head. ”Come. It’s this way.”
Sizhui knows better than to question why he’s been led to the main family area of Lotus Pier. He knows that he means Senior Wei, and his room was in the main family area. Sizhui isn’t going to complain about the chance to look around (snoop, as Jingyi would gleefully say).
”Uh, jiujiu is so annoying sometimes,” Jin Ling grumbles. ”He’s been unbearable for weeks, but does he bother to show you around himself? No! Because he’s a weirdo like that.”
”Mn,” Sizhui says.
”He even imported some of those herbs from Gusu, just for you,” Jin Ling adds. ”None of us can understand how you can enjoy those. They’re so bitter and tasteless at the same time! How is that even possible?”
”Through skill and dedication,” Sizhui says mildly.
Jin Ling snorts.
They turn a corner and cross a small bridge over water and—
”Here it is,” Jin Ling says, opening the door.
It’s painfully obvious that the room hasn’t been neglected over time. It’s messy and filled with piles of paper and stacks of notebooks, but it’s clean. Sizhui can’t detect even a speck of dust or a whiff of rot.
”Jiujiu has taken care of it himself,” Jin Ling says quietly, following Sizhui in. ”For as long as I can remember, this room has always been locked. No one, not even Jiujiu’s second-in-command, had access. This is the second time I’ve been in here.”
”What was the first time?” Sizhui asks before he can stop himself. He walks around the room, trailing a finger along the edge of the desk and the headboard of the bed, pausing at the sight of two carved stick figures holding hands.
Jin Ling sits on the bed, also looking at the stick figures. ”Right after the statue incident in the Dafan mountain, when your Hanguang-jun took da-jiu to Gusu. (Sizhui carefully doesn’t react to the ”da-jiu.”) Jiujiu got roaring drunk and ended up here. I couldn’t find him and thought he’d fallen into the lake and drowned.” He looks around. ”Instead, he was here, sitting on the bed, staring at nothing.”
Sizhui sits next to him. ”They have a complicated relationship.”
”Yeah, they do,” Jin Ling sighs.
They sit in a companionable silence for some while, taking in the room and the memories from another lifetime it has kept safe.
”Do you remember our first meeting?” Jin Ling asks.
”Mn.”
”Really? Because I don’t.”
Sizhui glances at him from the corner of his eye. ”It was your birthday…perhaps your fifth? Zewu-jun brought me as Hanguang-jun was still—” He pauses. ”Anyway. I remember a massive table with heaps of salt and big bowls of shaved ice. It was…excessive.”
On hindsight, the table and piles of salt and ice hadn’t perhaps been that big, considering he’d been a child himself and used to the Cloud Recesses’ style of celebration. (Then again, it had been the Jin, and opulence was kind of their thing.)
Jin Ling snorts. ”I bet I seemed like a spoiled brat to you.”
”Jingyi would say you’re still a spoiled brat,” Sizhui side-steps.
”Jingyi is a loud-mouthed asshole,” Jin Ling says. ”And that’s a compliment.” He nudges Sizhui’s shoulder with his own and continues, ”Leave your stuff here, I’ll walk you around.”
”I thought you said you weren’t Sect Leader Jiang’s servant?” Sizhui says wryly, earning himself a scoff and an eyeroll.
”I’m showing my cousin around,” he says and then jumps up to smooth down his robes in order to hide his reddening cheeks.
”Sure,” Sizhui says, smiling as he stands up. He nudges Jin Ling gently. ”Show me all the amazing nooks and crannies of Lotus Pier.”
In all honesty, Sizhui hadn’t had many plans for his stay in Lotus Pier. He knows how much Senior Wei loved the place, and that alone is good enough of a reason for him. But it’s also a deeply meaningful place for Jin Ling, and Sizhui likes to learn about things that are important to his friends.
So far, his stay has been pleasant. He’s now familiar with the buildings and walkways, he’s been at the lake (and in the lake) dozens of times, and made his acquaintances with the crochety old lotus farmer (who plied him with lotus pods to take to Senior Wei). He’s observed and attended the Jiang juniors’ lessons and sat in some meetings that dealt with Sect business.
He hasn’t spent much time with Sect Leader Jiang but that’s understandable; there was an incident involving a collapsed riverbank, and Sect Leader Jiang has been tied with that for most of the week. (Sizhui helped in the beginning, and he’s pretty sure he didn’t imagine the approving look that flashed in Sect Leader Jiang’s eyes when he saw that Sizhui wasn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty or his robes muddy.)
”So. How are you with a bow?” the Jiang head disciple, Yu Qiaolian, asks one morning.
”I’m afraid I’m only adequate,” Sizhui says. ”Archery is not one of Gusu Lan’s strengths.”
”Hm,” Yu Qiaolian says. ”Follow me.”
He follows her and a class of juniors into the archery field in the woods beyond Lotus Pier, where she hands him a bow and nods at the targets.
He shoots.
She is not impressed.
”Passable,” she says flatly. ”Again.”
As the day progresses, Sizhui’s Lan arm strength comes in handy. Yu Qiaolian drills him without a pause; she runs him through basic excercises, still target practice and moving target practice, multiple target practice, and routines that Sizhui has been only vaguely aware of. By the end of the day, his arms feel like overcooked noodles, and he has a very clear idea why archery is one of the Jiang sect’s main skills.
”Hm,” Yu Qiaolian says. ”We’ll continue tomorrow.”
On the evening of his third day of practice, Yu Qiaolian pauses next to him at dinner and places a small jar in front of him.
”Hm?” Sizhui says, looking at her expectantly.
”Keep practicing,” she says and moves to her usual table to eat her own dinner.
Sizhui opens the jar and sees it’s packed full of pickled vegetables. They are crunchy and have a sharp, pungent taste with an aftertaste like a mouthful of peppers. Sizui eats the whole jar and inclines his head at Yu Qiaolian. (His mouth feels parched and also like it’s on fire for the rest of the evening.)
He writes to Jin Ling about it and gets a reply the next day.
Sizhui,
Wow, you’ve made an impression! Qiaolian-jie doesn’t offer her pickles for just anyone, you know! Congratulations on finishing the whole jar, Meishan Yu pickles aren’t for the weak.
—Jin Ling
It’s the last evening of Sizui’s stay, and he realizes he’s going to miss Lotus Pier. It’s very different from the Cloud Recesses but something about the place—the sounds, smells, and atmosphere—makes his chest warm. He’s enjoyed his time learning about the place where Senior Wei grew up and that has been the safe haven for Jin Ling, about the rhythms of the river.
The air is warm and pleasant as he takes a stroll outside. The piers are familiar now and he lets his feet carry him wherever they like, finally ending up in a pavilion overlooking the river. He can see insects flitting over the placid surface of the river, and every now and then, a fish breaks the surface to snatch a treat. He smiles and leans on the railing, breathing in the humid twilight air.
A creak draws Sizhui from his thoughts and he turns, sees Sect Leader Jiang walking purposefully toward him. He straightens and bows.
”Good evening, Sect Leader Jiang.”
Sect Leader Jiang grunts as a reply. He still looks stern but Sizhui thinks he can detect his character a little better now. Sect Leader Jiang is the kind who has a resting scowling face, and Sizhui has an inkling it might be on purpose. He knows now that under his prickly outside, Sect Leader Jiang is a man who is fiercely proud of his sect and his people and very protective of those few he cares about.
”How has your stay been?” Sect Leader Jiang asks without looking at him, standing next to him in with his hands behind his back and gazing at the river instead. He’s shed his sect leader robes and is now dressed in a comfortable-looking set of dark purple robes instead.
”It has been educational,” Sizhui says. ”I’ve learned a lot about Yunmeng and the river, about the Jiang sect, and—”
”I hope it’s been more than just educational,” Sect Leader Jiang interrupts. ”You Lan and your learning,” he adds in a mutter.
”Learning comes first, after all,” Sizhui says mildly.
Sect Leader Jiang glances at him from the corner of his eye. ”There’s more to life than just learning.”
”Of course, Sect Leader Jiang,” Sizhui says.
They stand in silence for some while, and then Sizhui says, softly, ”I can see why Senior Wei talks about Lotus Pier and Yunmeng so much and laments that Hanguang-jun never visited him before the war.”
Sect Leader Jiang twitches. ”Why do you call him Hanguang-jun? Aren’t you adopted? Or is that one of your Lan rules?”
Sizhui ducks his head slightly. ”I am adopted, yes. I—” He pauses and considers his words carefully. ”Not everyone appreciates my close ties to the Lan. It adds a level of distance.”
”That’s just stupid,” Sect Leader Jiang huffs.
Sizhui hums but says nothing. It doesn’t really bother him; in the privacy of the Jingshi, he’s free to call Hanguang-jun and Senior Wei Father and Baba, and that’s enough for him.
Sect Leader Jiang drums his fingers on the railing for a moment, face drawn in a furious scowl. Finally, he sighs and gives his head a slight shake, then turns and says over his shoulder, ”Follow me.”
Curious and mildly confused, Sizhui follows him, growing slightly alarmed when Sect Leader Jiang leads him to the Jiang Ancestral Hall. He opens his mouth and then snaps it closed when Sect Leader Jiang narrows his eyes, and dutifully kneels where Sect Leader Jiang points him to kneel.
Sect Leader Jiang lights incense and new candles to replace those that have burned out before kneeling next to Sizhui. ”Father, Mother,” he says, sounding almost defiant. ”I have brought Wei Wuxian’s son to meet a-jie.”
Sizhui’s eyes go wide but he keeps silent, almost like his lips were glued shut with the Lan silencing spell.
”A-jie,” Sect Leader Jiang says, and now his voice is softer. ”This is Lan Sizhui. He’s Lan Wangji’s adoptive son, and since they’re apparently married, I guess that makes him Wei Wuxian’s son, too.” He stops to glance at Sizhui.
”Lan Yuan, courtesy Sizhui, greets Jiang Fengmian, Yu Ziyuan, and Jiang Yanli,” Sizhui says and bows. ”It has been an honor to visit Lotus Pier. Senior Wei—” he pauses, bites his lip, and, feeling bold, corrects, ”Baba has talked a lot about this place. He always says it’s the most beautiful place in the whole world.”
Sect Leader Jiang huffs. ”That’s because it is,” he says and takes something from his robes, then stays still for a long moment as his jaw works. ”A-jie, I wanted you to witness this,” he finally says, and holds his hand out to Sizhui. He cups his hands under Sect Leader Jiang’s and takes a sharp breath when Sect Leader Jiang lowers a nine-petaled silver lotus bell into his hand.
A Jiang clarity bell.
”You can tell Wei Wuxian that if he wants his bell back, he can come here to get it himself,” Sect Leader Jiang says. ”This is for you.”
Sizhui’s eyes sting as he grips the bell carefully in his hand. ”Thank you, Sect Leader Jiang,” he whispers and goes to bow, stopping when Sect Leader Jiang grips his shoulder.
”If you call him your baba, you should call me Shushu,” he says brusquely.
Sizhui’s throat closes up and he needs to swallow before he manages a whispered, ”Yes, Shushu.”
Sect Lea—Shushu nods, clears his throat, and turns to face the memorial tablets again. It’s a clear dismissal, so Sizhui stands up and, holding the clarity bell in his clasped hands, gives the most respectful bow he’s able before quietly leaving the Ancestral Hall.
He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he can’t help pausing when he hears a soft, ”He’s a good kid, a-jie, and a good friend to A-Ling. Qiaolian gave him pickles.”
Feeling his cheeks heat, Sizhui hurries back to his room.
The next morning, Sect Leader Jiang meets him at the gate to see him off. Sizhui has several qiankun bags bulging with treats and souvenirs (and lotus pods) hanging from his belt, but Sect Leader Jiang’s eyes zero in on the Jiang clarity bell hanging next to his Lan jade token. He looks almost smug.
”Fly safe,” he says to Sizhui.
”I will. Thank you for having me, Shushu,” Sizhui says. The guards don’t react but behind Sect Leader Jiang, Yu Qiaolian nods, satisfied.
”Work on your archery, Sizhui,” she says. ”I want to see improvement the next time you visit.”
”I will,” Sizhui says. Then he bows, turns, and mounts his sword.
He lets the Jiang clarity bell chime once as he takes off and grins at the snorts that accompany him to the sky.