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Nie Huaisang looks up from the corpse, her still innocent eyes reddened by the many tears she’s spilled over the night. She seems so small, so young, an impression made worse by those men’s robes she’s wearing that are, as always, too big for her.

“What if Jin-furen came to Qinghe?” she shyly whispers, flinching when everyone present turns to look at her. “It’s just… you’ve said she can’t stay in Lanling, and it might look bad if she goes home to Gusu, so I thought… well, and Da-ge and her used to be friends, right? And… and since Jin-furen had nothing to do with this…”

The attention becomes too much for that little mouse of a woman, and with an embarrassed squeak she hides behind a fan, half apologising for daring to speak at all.

“If the child is a boy, it’ll have a claim to Lanling Jin,” Lan Qiren muses. “The only direct claim left that sect recognises, in fact.”

Jiang Cheng nods, one arm protectively wrapped around his nephew’s shoulders. Jin Ling, all clad in bright purple, huddles closer to his uncle, his gaze fixed on the body on the floor. 

His other uncle, who had firmly usurped his birthright. 

His other uncle, who the boy had loved in spite of politics. 

His other uncle, who had threatened to kill him in a desperate bid to escape the consequences of his crime.

It would hardly have been Jin Guangyao’s first time killing a child.

“Nie-zongzhu, do you really understand what you’re offering?” Lan Qiren asks, in the gently condescending tone people can"t help using when talking to Nie Huaisang. “My niece’s husband killed your brother.”

“I know, I know,” Nie Huaisang pitifully whispers. “But that was him , not her. And she killed him now, didn"t she? And we’ve been friends for so long, and… I can’t just do nothing , can I?” she sobs. “I’m always useless, but at least this I can do. Lan-zonzghu, please let me protect my friend!”

A few tears spill on her pale cheeks, her expression a perfect mix of weakness and determination. Lan Qiren is fooled, which does not surprise his niece. Stern as he wants to appear, he’d always had a secret fondness for pitiful children. Besides, he arrived when everything was finished already. 

He doesn’t know.

It is more surprising when Jiang Cheng notes that it might not be a bad idea. He was there. He heard Wei Wuxian make his accusation. Perhaps he’s thinking ahead, wondering if he can seize Lanling Jin for his nephew, or at least some of its territories. Jin Ling has long been declared a bastard, barely allowed to keep the name Jin at all, but it’s no weaker a claim than Jin Guangyao himself had, especially if Wei Wuxian confirms the rumours were wrong. With the right support…

And Lan Xichen knows too well the importance of support in those things. Without her, Jin Guangyao would likely never have become sect leader. 

Lan Qiren, after some hesitation, takes his niece by the arm and leads her aside. He tried to take her hand first, until he noticed the blood. It stains her dress, too. Her round stomach caught so much of it. Lan Qiren, kindly, does not speak of it. They need to decide together what is to be done, he tells the others, but that is a lie, whether he knows it or not. 

Lan Xichen knows her uncle has already decided, if that can even be called a decision. There is no choice. Gusu Lan could already so easily be accused of covering up for Jin Guangyao’s crimes, after their long closeness with the Jin sect. So if they welcome his murdering widow, his son perhaps… and as for staying in Lanling, it can’t be considered, not unless Lan Xichen wants to be poisoned alongside her daughter and her unborn child before the week is over.

There is only one option.

If he were there, Lan Wangji might have objected to this plan. Wei Wuxian would have anyway, and Lan Wangji would have followed his lead. Wei Wuxian would have said something, although whether that would have swayed Lan Qiren or made him more determined to send his niece to Qinghe… but it’s pointless to wonder. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian disappeared long ago, to enjoy their hard-earned happiness. 

Lan Xichen is alone, and she can only blame herself for it.

Still she smiles at her uncle, trying to comfort him, trying to convince herself that he’s more worried about her safety than about politics.

“Shufu, I will go to Qinghe,” she says. "It"s the best option."

Her voice hardly trembles, something she wonders at. 

She doesn’t want to go to Qinghe, and that too amazes her, when it was once one of her favourite places, where the two people dearest to her lived. 

Perhaps this is part of her punishment, for helping her husband, for killing him.

She can’t imagine anything worse than living in Qinghe, now that Nie Huaisang hates her.

Nie Huaisang’s skin tasted like the juice of the mangoes she’d been eating, sweeter than a sugary candy. Lan Xichen licked her friend’s chin, her cheek, and then into her mouth where the taste was sweetest.

Somewhere on the back of her mind, Lan Xichen knew this was not something she was quite allowed to do. She’d been sternly warned against kissing boys, against giving in to their desires. But Nie Huaisang wasn’t a boy, so it was fine, it did not break any instruction she’d been given. 

Besides, Nie Huaisang was the one who had started this. 

They"d been having a snack together, enjoying a warm afternoon of late spring in Lan Xichen"s room. Nie Huaisang, who was a bit of a messy eater apparently, had licked her own fingers in a manner that made something boil in Lan Xichen’s stomach. She must have noticed Lan Xichen"s expression and taken it for disapproval, because she had then grabbed Lan Xichen’s hand to clean her fingers in the same manner. 

It had just been a joke, a way to tease Lan Xichen.

The first time, it had been just that. Then Nie Huaisang had eaten a few more pieces of mango, sucking languorously on them while looking Lan Xichen in the eyes. Her hands had gotten messy again, worse than before, and…

Lan Xichen was more serious than most girls her age, but she’d wanted to prove she could be teasing too. She’d been the one to suck on Nie Huaisang’s fingers this time, eliciting the most amazing sounds from her friend. It had brought Lan Xichen’s attention to Nie Huaisang’s mouth, so pink and shiny from juice, messier than her hands, and…

It was just teasing, nothing more, Lan Xichen told herself as she straddled Nie Huaisang and kissed her deeper, chasing the flavour hidden under the mangoes’ juice, the taste of Nie Huaisang herself. Any moment Nie Huaisang would push her away with a laugh, and complain that Lan Xichen was messing up her pretty dress.

Any moment…

But instead Nie Huaisang’s arms wrapped around her neck to pull her closer. Lan Xichen felt her friend’s chest pressed against her, the soft warmth of her breasts, their movement every time Nie Huaisang gasped or whined into the kiss. They were so close, closer than Lan Xichen had ever been to anyone, and yet not close enough. Not until Nie Huaisang stretched her legs and rearranged them so one of her thighs was rubbing between Lan Xichen’s. 

It was Lan Xichen’s turn to whine into the kiss, the sensation so intense that it gave her pause. She pulled back as much as Nie Huaisang’s hands on her neck allowed, and watched the younger girl.

Nie Huaisang, her face red, her lips redder, looked back at her with a smile that made Lan Xichen’s blood boil no less than the leg between hers did. It was an innocent smile, without a trace of guilt. Surely if what they were doing were wrong, Nie Huaisang wouldn’t have looked so happy? And no one had ever warned Lan Xichen against this, so it couldn’t be forbidden.

Lan Xichen kissed Nie Huaisang again, rubbing against her, chasing pleasure, letting Nie Huaisang chase her own when Lan Xichen pressed a knee between her thighs, certain that nothing which felt so good could be bad.

When it was all over, when Lan Xichen, breathless, lay draped over her friend on the floor of her room, trying to grasp what had happened, only knowing she’d soon want it again, Nie Huaisang laughed.

“Jiejie, we are in such a state!” she exclaimed. “My dress is all wrinkled, and yours is even worse!”

Lan Xichen nodded, floating too much for words. Blindly she reached for Nie Huaisang’s hand, and when she found it she held it tight, never wanting to let go. 

Her dress was a mess, stained with mango everywhere Nie Huaisang had groped her, damp from her pleasure, from Nie Huaisang’s. She’d have to try and wash it herself, or the servants might report to her uncle that she’d been up to mischief. He"d scold her, and maybe send Nie Huaisang back home. 

Her uncle could never know. 

Lan Xichen never wanted to be apart from Nie Huaisang again. 

“How did you know how to do that?” Lan Xichen asked when her voice returned.

In the midst of everything warm and pleasant, she couldn’t contain a spark of ice at the thought that someone might have shown Nie Huaisang how to play like that. But Nie Huaisang merely shrugged and laughed.

“I don’t know, I just thought it would be fun. It was, right?”

Lan Xichen hummed, and sat up to press a brief kiss to Nie Huaisang’s lips, squeezing her hand gently. 

“Do you want to play like that again someday, A-Sang?”

Nie Huaisang couldn’t nod fast enough.

“If I have to be stuck in the Cloud Recesses, we might as well have fun,” Nie Huaisang said. “Especially now that your uncle has recognised me and kicked me out of his lectures on the boys’ side.”

“He’d have tolerated it better if you hadn’t only gone there to joke around with the students,” Lan Xichen gently scolded while tucking a strand of hair behind Nie Huaisang’s ear.

Nie Huaisang shrugged, perhaps because she couldn’t see what the fuss was about. There were not many girls in the Nie sect, so she’d more often played with boys, though she wasn"t boyish in the least. Now that her brother had sent her to Gusu to keep her safe in case the Wens tried something, Nie Huaisang struggled a bit to adapt to life among women, since she was used to running wild and doing as she liked. Lan Xichen was her only female friend. 

Before, Lan Xichen had felt sorry for her. Now, she was glad. 

She didn’t want Nie Huaisang to do what they"d just done with other girls.

“Anyway, this is way more fun than the lectures,” Nie Huaisang said with a grin. “I really want to do it again. But next time, let’s undress, so we don’t dirty our clothes.”

Lan Xichen fell breathless. Her eyes went to Nie Huaisang’s breasts, who had felt so soft before through the fabric of their dresses. She thought of touching them, of licking them maybe, the way she’d done with Nie Huaisang’s fingers and tongue. Just that idea made her stomach heat up with the same flames as before.

“Actually, we should already undress,” Lan Xichen said. “To… to put on something clean. I’ll lend you something.”

Nie Huaisang smiled, looking as pleased as she’d been when Lan Xichen had offered her some mangoes, an eternity before. Then, without waiting, Nie Huaisang started fiddling with the ties of her dress, as if she couldn’t wait to be nude. The ties were a little too tight though, Nie Huaisang a little tired from their game, so Lan Xichen had to help her.

When she touched them, Nie Huaisang’s breasts were even softer and warmer than she’d imagined.

And when Lan Xichen took one in her mouth, Nie Huaisang’s gasps were more beautiful than any piece of music she’d ever heard.

The small house that Lan Xichen is given in the Unclean Realm is simply decorated, little more than a peasant’s cottage really, hidden from the rest of the sect by some high bamboo. A few flowers and bushes constitute its garden. 

Perhaps Nie Huaisang means to punish her by refusing her the luxury to which she has become accustomed during her ten years in Carp Tower. Unless she remembers how Lan Xichen used to complain against that excessive luxury forced upon her, and how she longed for the simplicity of the Cloud Recesses.

Jin Yan finds the change harder to process than her mother does, but of course Jin Yan has never known anything except Carp Tower. She’s been crying a lot since Jiang Cheng gave her back to her mother, having rescued her from Lanling. She cries about her toys, about her dresses, about the pretty things she misses.

She cries about her father too. Every night on their way to Qinghe, she"s asked when he will come home. She’s been told he’s dead, but she’s not quite six, death is hard to understand. Lan Xichen indulges her at first, until one night Nie Huaisang comes into their room at an inn just when Jin Yan is begging for her father.

That night, Lan Xichen scolds her daughter and forbids her from ever speaking about her father.

“He has done great evil,” she sternly explains to the sobbing little girl. “He has hurt many people, and he was punished for it. He was a very bad man, and you must not miss him, nor speak about him. Do you understand?”

Jin Yan nods, sweet and obedient even when she doesn’t understand things.

Jin Yan still cries. Sometimes she will say why, whining about dresses and trinkets. Others she won’t, and Lan Xichen knows her daughter misses her father, because all the evil he caused cannot matter to a child who adored him. If she could, Lan Xichen would explain a thousand times, comfort her daughter a thousand times, let the child babble about the man who always treated her well, no matter what he did to her siblings.

Lan Xichen can’t do that.

Not in their position. 

She has to protect her daughter, even if that means scolding her for something as natural as missing her father. 

Nie Huaisang warns her, when they reach Qinghe and she brings them to that cottage they must now live in.

“This is a prison, not a home,” she tells Lan Xichen. “If you don’t follow my rules, if you are not grateful enough, I will make you regret that the Jins didn"t poison you.”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour,” Lan Xichen promises.

“Make sure of that. Or else your children…” Nie Huaisang pauses, and laughs. “Ah, but perhaps threatening them won’t do much? You’ve been so willing to let the others die, perhaps you care as little as he did?”

She laughs and laughs, as if Lan Xichen’s misery were the height of amusement to her.

Lan Xichen can’t even hate her for it.

She wishes she could hate her.

It would be easier to hate her, if she didn’t remember loving Nie Huaisang more than life itself.

Nie Huaisang was a different person then, a sweet and pretty girl who lived for pretty dresses and kisses. And yet when Lan Xichen watches that woman who hides behind fans as she sets the world on fire, she can almost glimpse again at the girl who owned her heart.

It broke Lan Xichen’s heart to return to the burned ruins of her home. Everything once familiar had become foreign, making her feel unwelcome in the place she’d been longing for during those harrowing weeks away.

She had missed her father’s funeral, which she minded less than she ought to, and her uncle’s coronation, which mattered more to her than it did to him.

She had nearly died, more than once, and although she was coming home, she knew she would soon risk her life again. Her uncle wanted her to help him in the Cloud Recesses, he’d said as much, because a girl’s place was at home. However Lan Xichen had already borrowed some male robes so she could disguise herself and join the Sunshot Campaign. She was as strong as any man in their sect, stronger than most, in fact. Why shouldn’t she fight for their freedom too?

She knew her uncle would forgive her, someday. 

She hoped she would survive to be forgiven.

But before she could throw herself into harm"s way, Lan Xichen needed to sleep. All those weeks on the run, she"d barely slept. Luckily the women’s side of the Cloud Recesses had been less damaged, and her room was still there, nearly intact. The shadows of night helped her pretend she couldn’t see everything that had changed there too. Exhausted and hopeless, Lan Xichen dropped her ruined dress for the last time, knowing when morning came she would put on a disguise.

But as Lan Xichen stood in the cold air, nearly naked, she realised she was not alone. There was someone in her bed, curled under her blanket, with just one shapely leg sticking out. Had it been anyone else, that would not have been enough to recognise this person. But Lan Xichen had spent so much time between Nie Huaisang"s legs, she would have known her by touch alone. 

Poor Nie Huaisang, sent there for her own protection once more, Lan Qiren has said, though he had not informed his niece that her friend had made herself at home in her room. Perhaps he didn"t know. She must have been so bored. Nie Huaisang hated everything about the Cloud Recesses, except for the game Lan Xichen and her played behind locked doors. She must have come there to find some comfort, in this place where they had been so happy.

The night was not warm. Lan Xichen, staring at that exposed leg, was moved by pity and longing. She knelt down next to the bed and pulled gently on the blanket, trying to cover Nie Huaisang without waking her. In spite of her efforts the other girl quickly stirred awake, even sitting up and grumbling against waking so early.

Nie Huaisang’s grumbling ceased as soon as she recognised Lan Xichen.

“Jiejie, are you a ghost?” she whispered.

“I don’t think I am,” Lan Xichen replied, offering her hand for Nie Huaisang to touch so she could find out for herself.

Nie Huaisang ignored that hand and instead threw herself in Lan Xichen’s arms, pressing their lips together. She was still warm from sleep, and the heat of her skin almost burned Lan Xichen, making her realise how cold she’d been.

“I was so scared for you,” Nie Huaisang sobbed against Lan Xichen’s mouth. “I thought you were gone, I thought they’d killed you! Jiejie, I love you so much and I thought you were dead.”

Freezing at those words, Lan Xichen tried to pull away, but Nie Huaisang only clinged to her more tightly.

“No, I don’t care what you say!” Nie Huaisang insisted, glaring through heavy tears. “Other girls aren’t like that with their friends! You know it’s something else! You can’t keep saying I’m not really in love with you, not when… jiejie, if you’d died… I love you so much, if you’d died I would have died too!”

“Girls can’t love other girls,” Lan Xichen whispered, trying to convince herself more than Huaisang.

“Why not? You said one time that Wangji is in love with a boy! Isn’t it the same?”

“It’s not. Men are… boys are… they can…”

Men could be trusted to fight for their families when their home was attacked, instead of being sent running for fear they’d be captured and raped. Men could live their lives as they pleased, break any rules they wanted, as long as they were confident enough. Men could love whoever they wanted, and never be shamed for it.

Men could do everything.

Lan Xichen ached with envy.

“If you were a boy, would you love me?” Nie Huaisang asked, pressing a kiss to Lan Xichen’s jaw. “Would you take me as your cultivation companion?”

A shiver ran through Lan Xichen. Something like that… if things were that way… and yet even with all the pain it caused her to be dismissed, she did not wish to be other than she was. In the morning she would wear men’s clothes and borrow a man’s name to go to war, but only as a last resort.

“I wouldn’t want to be a man,” Lan Xichen said.

“What if I were one?” Nie Huaisang stubbornly suggested. “Would you love me then?”

That sounded wrong too, for some reason. Lan Xichen didn’t want Nie Huaisang to be anything but the sweet, plump girl she was. She wanted to love Nie Huaisang as they both were, even while being unsure it was possible at all.

“If you were a boy, we’d be married already,” Lan Xichen still retorted. “I could be yours, truly yours.”

Nie Huaisang kissed her again, gentle and devouring in turn, slowly but steadily dragging Lan Xichen in bed with her.

It was stupid, when Lan Xichen desperately needed sleep, but she needed this even more.

They stayed awake until dawn, sometimes exchanging caresses, other times trading tales of their time apart. Lan Xichen told Nie Huaisang things she’d kept hidden from her uncle, gave her a truer account of events, even when it would scare Nie Huaisang, simply because to lie would have been unbearable. She talked about Meng Yao, who had hidden her in a brothel, the safest she’d been that whole time. Nie Huaisang in turn confessed what she hadn’t told her brother about her time as a prisoner of the Wens with other juniors, boys from both sides trying to touch her just because she was an easy target, how Wei Wuxian had gotten in trouble sometimes to protect her and other girls.

Wei Wuxian was likely dead now, and Meng Yao had disappeared back to his ordinary life, but they agreed they both owed these men a debt, one they hope to repay someday.

As they watched the night sky colour with the first shades of sunrise, Nie Huaisang clung tighter to Lan Xichen, knowing light would bring new separation. Lan Xichen almost wanted to reconsider her plan and stay in the Cloud Recesses to steal what happiness was still to be found in the world.

She had to go, though.

To help her family, to uphold their ideals, certainly. But she now had more selfish motives as well.

If she could prove she was as good as any man, would she be allowed to keep Nie Huaisang at her side, the way men’s passions for other men were tolerated if their reputations were great enough?

“I’d be a good husband for you,” Nie Huaisang whispered against her neck. “I would let you do as you pleased. You’d still go on Night Hunts, and I wouldn’t force you to stop cultivating, like other husbands do sometimes. I wouldn’t care that you’re more powerful than me. You’re stronger than anyone, anyway. Well, except Da-ge, maybe.”

“I’d love to be your wife,” Lan Xichen replied, tracing patterns on Nie Huaisang’s back with one finger. “I don’t think anything could make me happier.”

She felt more than saw Nie Huaisang’s smile against her skin, and sighed.

To be married, to be together forever, with no one ever able to separate them…

She would cling to that dream, when she was fighting the Wens.

It takes Lan Xichen a few days to realise what has changed in Nie Huaisang since they’ve arrived in Qinghe. She thinks at first it is merely that the other woman no longer plays her pitiful comedy around her. Nie Huaisang still hides behind masks where others see her, but she lets herself be as vicious as she likes around her prisoner. She knows how worthless Lan Xichen’s word has become, so why bother hiding?

Why she still visits Lan Xichen at all is apparently the topic of much gossip among disciples of Qinghe Nie and servants. Some think it is pity, others suspect Nie Huaisang still desperately needs advice to rule her sect. The truth is more simple.

Nie Huaisang likes to see Lan Xichen suffer.

That is why she comes so often. It is why she will play with Jin Yan with sincere affection one moment, and the next subtly threaten to crush the girl’s eyes like ripe grapes.

Nie Huaisang has always been passionate. If she cannot love, she will hate, there is no middle ground.

Lan Xichen would sooner die than admit she’d rather cause hatred than indifference. That is her secret to bear, another one to add to the pile. This particular secret she hopes to take to the tomb. If Nie Huaisang knew, she would make herself indifferent, just out of spite.

So Lan Xichen bears with Nie Huaisang’s disdain as well as she can. She hears her daughter threatened, her choices mocked. Even her unborn child is used against her.

“If it’s a boy, I’ll drown him myself,” Nie Huaisang cheerfully remarks one morning, as they sit together in the garden around Lan Xichen’s cottage.

Jin Yan is playing far enough that she can’t hear them, or Nie Huaisang wouldn’t dare to be so openly cruel. She takes too much joy in making the little girl love her, perhaps so it will cause greater pain when she kills the child. Dozens of times, Lan Xichen has thought of warning her daughter against sect leader Nie. Dozens of times she’s decided Jin Yan is safer if she doesn’t know, if Nie Huaisang can be entertained by her innocent trust.

“I can let you have girls,” Nie Huaisang goes on, shuffling closer so she can nuzzle Lan Xichen’s neck as tenderly as she used to do. “They’ll be weak willed, like you. Easily sent to a man’s bed and bred for children like their mother, should they start to pose a problem. But a son you might raise to want revenge, and I can’t tolerate that.”

Lan Xichen’s hand goes to her stomach, already round enough that it makes everything difficult. She has a month more to go, give or take, and she does not know what sex her child will be. People always told her that mothers knew these things, but every child she’s given birth to has been a surprise.

“What a mother you are,” Nie Huaisang sneers, covering Lan Xichen’s hand with her own, the way she’d done when Lan Xichen was expecting Jin Rusong, trying to feel the movement of a son that wasn’t hers, a son she often said she wanted to claim. “You cry for them, but you’ve never protected a single one of them. If it were me…”

“But you always said you would never bear children,” Lan Xichen replies without thinking. “You used to say you didn’t have the temper for it.”

“I don’t,” Nie Huaisang agrees, pulling back and sitting a little more stiffly. “I’d argue that after letting four children of yours die with hardly a tear, you hardly have the temper for it either. But of course you’ve always been so desperate to lie to yourself, to think you could be normal. How has that worked out for you, jiejie? Is normality worth the price you paid for it?”

It isn"t. 

It never was. 

Even when she agreed to marry Jin Guangyao, Lan Xichen had known she was making a mistake.

She’s only now realising how great that mistake was, though. Because being here, as Nie Huaisang’s prisoner, exposed to Nie Huaisang’s hatred… living like this is still better than what her life with her husband had become.

Inside her cottage, within her garden, Lan Xichen is the only mistress of her life. She doesn’t need to worry about Carp Tower’s endless gossip. She doesn’t have to mind Jin Guangyao"s reputation, the threats against his position. There are no parties to oversee, no sect leaders" tempers to mollify. She gets to play with her daughter, to teach her as she likes. Jin Yan is thriving, too, eager to learn, curious about everything now that she’s allowed to be.

For this, too, she paid a terrible price.

But Lan Xichen minds Jin Guangyao"s blood on her hand less than she once minded the loss of everything dear to her.

“If you had any dignity, you’d find poison for yourself and your bastards,” Nie Huaisang says as she stands up. “Or you’d have used your sword to end it all. But if you had any dignity, you wouldn’t have ended up like this in the first place.”

Lan Xichen says nothing. 

She does not say that Nie Huaisang had every poisonous flower torn from her garden the day she arrived there, right in front of Lan Xichen, taunting her the whole time that she would not so easily escape. She does not say that Nie Huaisang has confiscated her sword and only allows her to train with it under supervision from her disciples, that there are no sharp objects in her cottage, nor even any pottery Lan Xichen might shatter to use their shards as a knife.

Lan Xichen doesn’t understand this new game they’re playing. 

She doesn’t think she’s meant to understand.

All she can think, as she watches Nie Huaisang leave the garden, is that she’s finally realised what felt so different about the other woman.

For years now, Nie Huaisang has taken to wearing men’s robes, as do the few other women in Qinghe Nie. Because she is small, because her body is plump, those robes never fit well, somehow too big and too tight at once, making little sect leader Nie a ridiculous sight for the decade she’s been ruling.

Today, though, the robes are perfectly tailored to fit her.

Jin Guangyao"s visit was unpleasant to begin with.

But no, Lan Xichen couldn"t think that about the man who had saved her, the man who had saved Nie Mingjue too, and ended the war for everyone. His visits could never be unpleasant . 

A little ill-timed then, maybe. 

It had been a lovely morning up until then. Nie Huaisang had arrived at the Cloud Recesses just the day before, intending to stay there some weeks, as had become her habit since the end of the Sunshot Campaign. Lan Xichen and her had made love all night, and were now nestled together on a sofa while Nie Huaisang read aloud a book of poetry she"d brought. 

Life couldn"t get better than that, Lan Xichen had thought several times that morning. They were so happy together, and lucky enough to be left to their happiness. 

Marriage, the one threat to their lives, was no threat at all these days. Not when Nie Mingjue had already proclaimed he would respect his sister"s choice to remain an old maid. Not when nobody wanted to marry Lan Xichen, the reputation she"d earned as a hero of the Sunshot Campaign making every man fear they"d end up chained to a new Madam Yu. 

They were happy, and with this being their first chance to be together since the death of Wei Wuxian, they were determined to let no one come in the way of their joy. 

But Jin Guangyao was not just anyone. When Lan Xichen was informed she had a guest, she reluctantly made herself presentable and forced Nie Huaisang to do the same. 

Jin Guangyao looked to be in a pitiful state when he arrived. Makeup couldn"t quite hide the black eye which  his cultivation wasn"t good enough to heal. But he still smiled as he greeted his two friends, and after some polite small chat, explained the reason for his presence. It was an awkward request, one he looked truly sorry to be making, one he made with the certainty it would be denied, and yet his circumstances since the death of Jin Zixuan had become so dire that he had to try even this. 

When he was done explaining, Lan Xichen asked for some time to think about it. She sent him to the men"s quarters, where her uncle would welcome him like a guest while she made up her mind. 

As soon as they were alone again, Nie Huaisang exploded. 

"I can"t believe he dares to propose again! Does he have no self respect?" 

Lan Xichen, who until then had been too shocked to know how to feel, couldn"t hide a small grimace. At least this time Jin Guangyao hadn"t tried to first ask Nie Huaisang, perhaps because she"d turned him down so rudely when he"d done that after the Sunshot Campaign. His father would probably have preferred to see him married to Nie Huaisang though, because that would have given Jin Guangshan something to use against Nie Mingjue. 

If he had asked Nie Huaisang, Lan Xichen might have suspected Jin Guangyao of trying to please his father. But he had asked her instead, and that meant Jin Guangyao was just desperate for help and protection, now that his half-brother"s death was somewhat blamed on him. 

"His position is a difficult one," Lan Xichen remarked. "He"s the heir but only barely. He"s Jin Guangshan"s best option, but that man is so set in his ways he"d rather let his sect collapse after his death than allow A-Yao to rule. But like A-Yao said, if he had support…" 

"You"re not thinking of accepting , are you?" 

Lan Xichen guiltily looked away, fearing the anger that was sure to show on Nie Huaisang’s face. She didn"t want to accept, but she owed Jin Guangyao so much, she had the power to help, and he"d looked so desperate… 

"You already have a husband," Nie Huaisang hissed. "You can"t marry him , you"re married to me !" 

"You know it"s not the same," Lan Xichen sighed. "Our marriage isn"t… Even your brother wouldn"t count it as binding."

Nie Mingjue had watched them take their bows, certainly, and he was supportive, allowing his sister to run to her wife as often as she pleased. But at the end of the day, Nie Mingjue was a practical man. He knew their marriage was a game of play pretend, just as Lan Xichen knew it.

The only one who refused to see things that way was Nie Huaisang. 

"I married you!" She cried out, breaking into tears. "I"m your husband and you"re my wife! How could I let you go to some man, let you bear his children…" 

"I won"t!" Lan Xichen protested, taking her hands. "You heard A-Yao, he said he wouldn"t ask anything of me in private. I would stay faithful to you!" 

"But having children isn"t a private thing," Nie Huaisang sobbed. "If this marriage is all about saving his image, he"ll need at least one son!"

"He promised," Lan Xichen insisted, though she was less sure now. 

But they were friends, Jin Guangyao and her, and aside from a proposal at the end of the year and this new one right then, he"d always treated her the way he"d have treated a man. He didn"t want to marry her out of love or lust, so surely he wouldn"t want to sleep with her. She couldn"t conceive of taking to bed someone she didn"t adore (she couldn"t conceive of taking anyone who wasn"t Nie Huaisang ) and surely a man as gentle and respectable as Jin Guangyao had to be the same. 

Nie Huaisang and her argued a while longer, until Lan Xichen had to leave for a lesson to some of the younger girls. Nie Huaisang refused to kiss her before she left. She was too busy crying her heart out, her pretty round face made blotchy by the strength of her tears.

Those tears had dried by the time Lan Xichen returned, but Nie Huaisang still didn’t come to meet her wife at the door. She remained sprawled on the sofa, her face hidden in the book of poetry from which she had been so lovingly reading that morning.

There was no point in talking to Nie Huaisang when she was that angry. All Lan Xichen could do was weather the storm, and show how sorry she was.

Without a word, Lan Xichen went to fetch her guqin and set it up. That alone was already a plea for forgiveness; when she played for herself she favoured the xiao, but her husband preferred the sound of the guqin. In case the message wasn’t clear enough, Lan Xichen also picked a melody Nie Huaisang particularly loved.

That song finished without so much as a glance from Nie Huaisang, as did the next one. By the third piece, though, the poetry book finally lowered and Nie Huaisang stared at her wife with a pensive expression.

"Do you think his father would really kick him out?" Nie Huaisang asked during the moment of silence that followed the third song.

"I think that"s the least cruel thing Jin zongzhu might do," Lan Xichen honestly replied, stretching her fingers before starting another melody. A simpler one this time, so she didn’t have to think about it too much as they spoke. "You know how he is. You"ve seen how he treats A-Yao. If he really wants to blame him for Jin Zixun and Jin Zixuan going to confront Wei Wuxian alone that day… A-Yao will probably be killed, and no one inside the Jin sect will dare to protest, not even the allies he"s made."

Nie Huaisang waited for the end of that song to speak again.

"He saved Da-ge," she mumbled hesitantly. "I probably owe him too for that, don"t I?" 

That particular debt was less clear than Lan Xichen"s own. Nie Mingjue resented having been saved by a man he"d grown to despise, and seemed to consider that merely allowing Jin Guangyao to live in spite of certain things he"d done during the war had erased his debt.

"I don"t want you to marry him," Nie Huaisang went on, while motioning that Lan Xichen should continue playing. "You"re my wife. But… I don"t want him to die either. He"s so nice, when he"s not trying to propose. And you"d be dead without him. Just for that, I have to like him. And if I like him… I should want to help, right?"

Lan Xichen frowned, and stared at her own fingers to avoid seeing her husband’s expression.

"Choose whatever you want," Nie Huaisang said at last. "As long as you don’t break up with me, I’ll accept anything.”

Lan Xinchen’s fingers struck the strings too roughly, producing a dissonant note that hurt her ears.

Why did Nie Huaisang have to choose that moment to be selfless? She never cared about the lives of others, never paid politics any attention, why change now, when Lan Xichen had been counting on her lover’s selfishness to give her an excuse to turn down Jin Guangyao? If Nie Huaisang had gone on crying, if she’d begged Lan Xichen to refuse, of course Lan Xichen would have done anything to please her. Jin Guangyao’s friendship wasn’t worth risking her cultivation companion.

But if Nie Huaisang gave in to reason, Lan Xichen’s only chance at selfishness vanished.

If Lan Xichen had to choose alone, of course she had to be kind, of course she had to help her friend the only way she could.

She did not want to be kind.

She wanted to stay like this forever. She wanted to help her uncle by being his voice and ears in the female half of the sect, comfortable in the home she had known all her life, the home she had fought so hard to defend. She wanted to teach juniors of her own sect during the day, and spend her night with her true husband, the woman she loved. 

Lan Xichen wanted and wanted and wanted .

But she was lucky to have had that much already. Compared to her father, to her brother, she’d been happy for so long. And Jin Guangyao had been so desperate earlier, he’d only bothered her because he had no choice, because he feared for his life, because he was scared of what would happen if he was no longer around to desperately push the Jin sect toward more righteousness with what little power he had.

She owed him that.

Do not be selfish, the rules said, and she owed Jin Guangyao so much.

That night, she told him he could talk to her uncle about marrying her. Jin Guangyao looked both relieved and sincerely sorry when she gave her answer. It comforted Lan Xichen a little, she took it as proof that it would really be a marriage of convenience and nothing else, that they would live together as good friends rather than spouses.

And yet, just as Nie Huaisang had predicted, on their wedding night Jin Guangyao started arguing for at least one child. Lan Xichen gave in, feeling shamefully naive for having believed she could stay faithful to her true husband. Just one child, she made him promise, and he assured her he’d never dare to ask for more.

She almost cried when she felt Jin Guangyao inside her, though he tried to be gentle. Her reaction, combined with the fact she was no longer a virgin, caused Jin Guangyao to try to comfort her after. Things happened during a war, he said, and he promised he wouldn"t pry into what happened to her.

Lan Xichen tried to feel grateful for his kindness. 

She only was truly grateful when he finally left her bed.

Rainy days are the worst in the little cottage. The rest of the time, it doesn’t matter that this place is small. If Lan Xichen wants some quiet, she can go in the garden with Jin Yan and let the little girl run among the bamboo. But when the weather turns bad, and it often does in the Unclean Realm, the little house really feels like the prison it is.

It doesn’t help that Lan Xichen has been feeling unwell since yesterday. It started lightly, some vague aches in her limbs last night, and something like the threat of a headache in the back of her skull. Since this morning her entire body has been feeling heavy, enough so that she can barely move. She’s managed to do her normal chores until lunch, taught since childhood to push past any temporary weakness, but once she sat down to eat, she found she simply couldn’t get up anymore.

Jin Yan still has plenty of energy, though, and keeps asking her mother to play with her, to tell her a story, to sing her a song. Instead, Lan Xichen offers to give her a cultivation lesson.

It’s what her uncle used to do, when Lan Wangji and her were young and he wanted them to stay quiet. Lan Qiren had known how much they wanted to become great immortal heroes, so he always had their complete attention. And while his niece and nephew meditated, he was sure to have a moment of quiet to rest or take care of sect business.

Just like them, Jin Yan is an eager student. She’s desperate to do good, maybe thinking her mother will be less sad if she works hard. At least, Lan Xichen vaguely remembers having thoughts of that sort once she started realising her uncle and her mother weren’t very happy people (neither was her father, she supposes, but him she hardly ever met).

The lesson goes well at first. Jin Yan controls her breathing very well, better than Lan Xichen thought she did at that age. The little girl is getting into the flow of meditation when Nie Huaisang comes into the cottage, drenched from the heavy rain and dripping everywhere on Lan Xichen’s floor.

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t cold,” she said with a charming smile. “Oh, you’ve lit a fire, wonderful! I was worried… it gets so much colder here than it does in Lanling!”

Of course Jin Yan is delighted to have a visitor. She runs to Nie Huaisang, radiating pride.

“Nie-jiejie, mommy is teaching me cultivation!” she announces. “I’m very good at it!”

“Fancy that,” Nie Huaisang says with a pout. “My little Yan-er, already cultivating… But is that really useful?”

“Yes!” Jin Yan replies with a grin. “I will be a great cultivator! I will help people and be strong! I’ll have a sword, and I’ll kill bad people! Just like mommy!”

Nie Huaisang smirks. Lan Xichen blushes.

She’s not the one who filled her daughter’s head with stories. It’s just things Jin Yan picked up, hearing people talk about the Sunshot Campaign. Lan Qiren might be to blame as well. As stern a parent as he was for his brother’s children, he’s always gone soft around his great-niece and has delighted her many times with tales of her mother’s youth, how she went to war for her people.

Someday, Lan Xichen will have to let her daughter know what sort of a person she really is.

Not today, though. She prays to any god listening that it doesn’t have to be today. She doesn’t have the strength to face Jin Yan"s reaction to the truth. 

“My oh my, is your mother some sort of a hero, then?” Nie Huaisang asks, to which Jin Yan can’t nod fast enough. Nie Huaisang laughs, and smiles at Lan Xichen. “And now you’re teaching your daughter. But I must repeat my question, jiejie. Is this all really useful? I can’t imagine you did much of that in Lanling.”

Lan Xichen looks away.

She used to complain to Nie Huaisang about how much she missed the way she lived in the Cloud Recesses. The woman married to a sect leader is not allowed to live as she pleases, least of all when his reputation is perpetually one misstep away from destruction.

When she unsheathed her sword to kill Jin Guangyao that night, it was the first time in years that she’d had a chance to use it.

“Maybe you should teach your daughter more useful things,” Nie Huaisang muses. She crouches next to Jin Yan, and pokes her gently in the rib. “What does my YanYan say? Should she give up on cultivation and learn something useful, like how to bow elegantly, or how to balance a budget?”

“What’s a budget?” Jin Yan asks, even as she already shakes her head.

“Oh, it’s a very terrible thing,” Nie Huaisang assures her, poking her again. “The very worst. It’s deciding if there’s enough money for sweets, and then buying cabbage anyway, because sweets aren’t allowed for grownups. Do you want to learn that, instead of cultivation?”

“No!” Jin Yan shrieks, laughing. “Nie-jiejie, I wanna learn to be like mommy!”

“But your mother did more budgeting in her life than she did cultivation,” Nie Huaisang assures her with a falsely severe expression. “If you want to cultivate, you can’t count on mommy at all. But maybe if you went to class with my disciples… wouldn’t you like that, YanYan? And then, you’d be Nie Yan, how cute would that be!”

Of course Jin Yan just laughs and laughs, delighted by her dear Nie-jiejie’s nonsense. If Lan Xichen were not so unwell, she’d pick up her daughter in her arms and beg Nie Huaisang to leave them alone. But her body feels so heavy that just the thought of getting up makes her want to cry.

Maybe it’s not just the weather after all.

“Well, jiejie, will you let me give my name to your daughter?” Nie Huaisang asks with a cruel smile that turns into a frown when she turns her eyes to Lan Xichen. “What’s wrong with you now?”

“I’m just a little tired,” Lan Xichen replies as lightly as she can. “I’ll be better tomorrow.”

Unconvinced by that lie, Nie Huaisang gets back on her feet and comes closer to press a hand to Lan Xichen’s forehead. Her skin is freezing, when it always used to feel so warm.

“A slight fever perhaps,” Nie Huaisang notes. “And you looked off yesterday too. I’ll have someone come check on you later.”

“It’s fine,” Lan Xichen protests. “I’m fine,” she insists when Jin Yan trots to her and clings to her skirts. “Mommy is just a little tired from making a baby, it’s normal. We’ll continue the lesson tomorrow.”

“Yes, mommy is working so hard,” Nie Huaisang sneers. “Making babies is what she’s best at. It’s all she’s good at, maybe.”

Jin Yan turns to stare at Nie Huaisang, a puzzled expression on her face, as if she can feel her mother’s pain, but can’t quite understand that her funny Nie-jiejie is the one causing it. Nie Huaisang is soon back to the more charming version of herself anyway, advising Lan Xichen to rest, ruffling Jin Yan’s hair and kissing her cheeks. When she leaves, she promises again to send a doctor their way, because she would hate it if anything happened to Lan Xichen and her unborn child.

She might even mean it.

To Lan Xichen’s immense relief, she fell pregnant almost immediately after her marriage. Jin Guangyao kept his word, and stopped visiting her at night. As for Nie Huaisang, she immediately flew to Lanling to be with her wife. 

It was unwise to announce that pregnancy to anyone so early. But Lan Xichen refused to keep any secrets from Nie Huaisang. A wife shouldn’t hide these things from her husband, she told herself, and Nie Huaisang was still her husband, in a way Jin Guangyao would never be.

More than that, Lan Xichen desperately needed the company.

Life in Lanling was so much worse than she had expected it to be. Madam Jin couldn’t go a day without insulting the bride of the bastard who had taken her son’s rightful place. She didn’t dare to hit Lan Xichen the way she still did sometimes with Jin Guangyao, because the Lan sect would never have borne with such an attack, but words could do worse damage than blows. And Jin Guangshan did not help the matter, with the way he sometimes looked at his daughter-in-law. Lan Xichen tried to avoid him, especially on nights when he’d had too much to drink.

But with Nie Huaisang at her side, none of that mattered anymore. With her cultivation companion helping her, Lan Xichen found renewed strength to defend Jin Guangyao when others attacked him where she could hear, until no one dared speak openly against him except for his father and his father"s wife. Not only that, but Nie Huaisang’s presence initially felt like an implicit message that Nie Mingjue too supported his former deputy.

That impression was maintained for the first few months of Lan Xichen’s pregnancy, when Nie Huaisang came to see her every week, spending more time in Lanling than she did in Qinghe. But during the fifth month of Lan Xichen’s pregnancy, there was an incident caused by a guest disciple of the Jin sect, an unpleasant boy called Xue Yang. An entire sect had been slaughtered, Lan Xichen was told, and Nie Mingjue was demanding justice.

After this, Nie Huaisang was not allowed to visit Langling anymore.

She still wrote, of course. She wrote many letters that Lan Xichen had to burn after reading, lest they be discovered by the servants she doesn’t quite trust and used against her or Jin Guangyao. Nie Huaisang’s letters were full of tears, full of love, full of desire. More importantly, they carried concerning news regarding Nie Mingjue’s health, whose temper had been degrading in a manner that could only mean one thing for a leader of Qinghe Nie.

Back in the Cloud Recesses, no one would have batted an eye at Lan Xichen travelling to the Unclean Realm to play healing songs for her oldest friend. But Carp Tower was not the Cloud Recesses, and Lan Xichen was no longer the First Jade of Lan. She was merely the Young Madam Jin, a wife, a future mother, a walking womb. Jin Guangshan and his wife might not care much about the child she was carrying, the unwanted offspring of an undesirable bastard, but they were quick to take its existence as an excuse to restrict her liberty. Lan Xichen was discouraged from practising with her sword, or to improve her cultivation until the child was born. She could not be allowed to be alone anymore. Her meals were closely watched. And, naturally, she was strictly forbidden from going to Qinghe.

“Those things are not your concern anymore,” Madam Jin said when Lan Xichen begged her to intercede in her favour. “A girl your age has no place in politics. Not to mention Nie zongzhu is a dangerous man, one who has positioned himself as an enemy to your husband’s father. If you went, people would say we are selling off our daughters to appease that man.”

“I am grateful that Jin-Furen now sees me as her daughter,” Lan Xichen had replied, much to Madam Jin’s displeasure who must not have intended to grant her that title. 

A pitiful victory, and one Lan Xichen would use someday.

Until then, she changed her plans. If she couldn’t play Cleansing for Nie Mingjue, someone else would have to do it. It was lucky, then, that Jin Guangyao was a gifted musician, that he had been tasked with dealing with Nie Mingjue on account of their former collaboration.

Jin Guangyao learned the melody.

Nie Mingjue’s temper improved, as did his patience.

Nie Huaisang returned to Lanling, almost as cheerful as she used to be.

Lan Xichen was happy again, or as close to it as she could hope to be these days.

It did not please Madam Jin, the way her daughter-in-law would sometimes disappear with her dear friend Nie Huaisang. Of course Lan Xichen tried to be serious and dependable, because Jin Guangyao was counting on her. But sometimes the rules and habits of Carp Tower felt too ridiculous, too pointless, so she exaggerated the aches her pregnancy caused, just to steal an afternoon in bed with Nie Huaisang when she visited.

Like this, with her true husband curled against her side, hidden in a comfortable bed, Lan Xichen thought that life wasn’t so bad. Nie Huaisang and her talked about the child, pretending it was theirs, that no one else had been involved in its conception. Lan Xichen hoped for a boy, so she wouldn’t have to go through that again. But Nie Huaisang thought a girl would be nice too, a pretty little girl that would look like her mother and be just as brave and clever. A boy would belong to the Jin sect and be closely watched by everyone, while a little girl wouldn’t matter as much and thus could go on extended holidays in Qinghe with her mother. Lanling was fine and all, but Nie Huaisang missed having her wife in her own home, and Nie Mingjue often complained that letters were not the same as seeing his friend in person.

Soon, Lan Xichen hoped.

Everything was fine now, she told herself. It had been no small sacrifice to marry Jin Guangyao, but she was glad she had done it, because it had solved so many problems.

That contentment lasted a few more months, until Lan Xichen was nearly ready to give birth. She’d been sent into confinement for the last two weeks of her pregnancy, with no visitors allowed except close family, not even Nie Huaisang. Madam Jin, who’d never been fond of that close friendship, had firmly ordered that Nie Huaisang in particular wouldn’t see Lan Xichen until after the birth. 

Lan Xichen, isolated from the world, had no idea what went on behind the walls of her room. She thought sometimes that the servants looked at her funny, that Jin Guangyao was oddly nervous. He assured her that he was not, and although Lan Xichen recognised that as a lie, she assumed he was worried about the birth to come, as many fathers were. Even among cultivators, it was not without risks.

Perhaps that was why nobody shared any news with her. They had to fear a shock would harm her and her child. She wouldn’t find out anything had happened until the hundredth’s day celebration. Only then did Madam Jin and Jin Guangyao finally sit her down to explain what was sure to be on everyone’s mind during the party, just so she wouldn’t be caught by surprise when other sect leaders asked her what she thought of those events.

Even when they finally told her, details were sparse. Madam Jin stuck to the official version, because that was all she knew, all she wanted to know. Jin Guangyao, who had seen it unfold, would have known more, but he was reluctant to talk about those events.

There could have been the option of asking Nie Huaisang at the party. She would have known, too.

Lan Xichen loved Nie Huaisang too much to ever ask her any questions.

All she knew, then, was that after weeks of peace, there had been a new argument between Jin Guangyao and Nie Mingjue. It concerned Xue Yang, once again. But this time their argument had taken a turn for the worse when Nie Mingjue had suffered a Qi deviation in public. It shouldn’t have been possible, not with Jin Guangyao playing Cleansing for him every week, and yet it still happened. Nie Mingjue had attacked blindly all those who’d been in his path as he tried to kill Jin Guangyao, even wounding his own sister. His rampage only ended when he finally dropped dead.

Jin Guangyao, out of friendship and pity for Nie Huaisang, had stayed at her side after the incident. He would have preferred to return to the woman he’d married, who would soon bring his first child into the world, but Nie Huaisang needed his help too much. She might have been Nie Mingjue’s heir, chosen by him years before, her support within the Unclean Realm was limited, and she might have been ousted if Jin Guangyao hadn’t been there for her.

And so it was that the new sect leader Nie buried her brother on the same day Lan Xichen gave birth to her son Jin Rusong.

Having become a mother five times already, Lan Xichen recognises the first pangs of childbirth as soon as she feels them in the middle of the night. She should wake Jin Yan and send her daughter to fetch the Nie sect’s doctor. This pregnancy, unlike her previous ones, has not been proceeding easily. In fact, she’s been forced to keep to her bed for the last two weeks. The Nie doctor says it must be the shock of everything that has happened in the past year finally catching up with her. Nie Huaisang, less kindly, has accused her of taking poisons, and had the cottage searched, the servants interrogated.

Lan Xichen took no herbs to get rid of a child she never wanted in the first place. But as he feels the ebb and flow of pressure against her back, she considers staying silent and letting herself bleed to death on her bed, her fate never discovered until morning. But it would be Jin Yan finding her, and that is too cruel for a little girl whose life already won’t be happy. Lan Xichen can’t do much for her daughter, but she can live, and protect her a little longer.

Jin Yan wakes up quickly when Lan Xichen shakes her. She grumbles at first, but when her mother explains what’s going on, when she is given a mission, Jin Yan cannot hop out of bed fast enough. She’s desperate to meet this new little brother (“Nie-jiejie said to pray for a boy!”) and barely throws on a coat before she runs out of the cottage to warn whoever she can find.

For what feels like an eternity, Lan Xichen is left alone. She controls her breathing the way she’s learned to, but very soon the pain is too intense for that, worse than anything she’s ever felt. 

She really might die like this.

She might die and Jin Yan will be left at Nie Huaisang’s mercy, which is no mercy at all.

She can’t let another of her children die.

Overcome with fear and pain, Lan Xichen bites down screams of anguish. Even when the doctor finally arrives, followed by Nie Huaisang who carries Jin Yan in her arms, the terror does not abate. Not when the doctor takes one look at her and advises that they send for a midwife in Qinghe, an old woman who knows better than him how to deal with a difficult birth.

“We’ll see about that,” Nie Huaisang replies, and through her agony Lan Xichen can pretend she hears concerns in the voice of the woman who once loved her. “Just do what you can for now.”

In her arms Jin Yan is crying and begging for her mother. Nie Huaisang ignores the child’s cries and carries her away.

Nie Huaisang always hated the sight of blood. Even for the joy of watching Lan Xichen die, she won’t subject herself to something that disgusts her.

It is a long and difficult birth. Lan Xichen is too weak. The child is not presenting itself right. She has lost too much blood. She hears the doctor mutter to his assistant that even if she manages to give birth, she’s likely to die soon after.

But at last the old midwife arrives, much sooner than anyone would have expected. Nie Huaisang must have sent someone flying to get her. In a moment of delirium, Lan Xichen imagines that perhaps Nie Huaisang went herself, that she still loves her enough for that.

It would be a pretty delusion to die with.

But Lan Xichen doesn’t get to die just yet. She has to survive and hear her child’s first cry, weak at first, then loud enough it seems to drown out every noise around her.

Another child she never asked for.

Another child that is taken from her immediately after the birth, though she begs with all the strength she has left to see it, to hold it at least once.

“I’ll give it to you when I’ve washed it,” the old midwife barks as she leaves the cottage, Lan Xichen’s newborn in her arms.

It’s a lie Lan Xichen has heard before. They said the same about the daughters that came after Jin Yan. Back then she had strength, but she didn’t know better, she didn"t think a father could order the death of children whose sex he doesn"t like, that his orders would be obeyed. 

She knows now, but has no strength to protect her child. 

Even breathing is too much effort after that excruciating birth, and all too soon Lan Xichen feels her mind slip to darkness, still wondering what will become of her children if she dies.

Lan Xichen did not cry when her father-in-law died, though she made sure to play the part of a grieving daughter. The last thing Jin Guangyao needed was for someone to point at his too cheerful wife and accuse him of something insane, like having murdered his father somehow.

But really, Lan Xichen, to her mild horror, is glad that Jin Guangshan is dead.

Once Jin Guangyao became sect leader, things changed for the better in Carp Tower. He finally had the power to enact all the reforms he had dreamed of, and he lost no time in doing so. New rules were set in place to help commoners who needed it but couldn’t pay Lanling Jin’s usual prices. Xue Yang, who had been freed after Nie Mingjue’s death, was sent back to a cell and then, at Lan Xichen’s insistence, executed for his crime. She found no pleasure in his death, but she had hoped Nie Huaisang would, when Xue Yang’s crimes had been the reason her brother’s health degraded so quickly.

Poor Nie Huaisang didn"t react quite the way Lan Xichen expected when her wife shared the news. She just blankly stared at Lan Xichen, miserable and pitiful in her ill-fitting men’s clothes. 

"Just think," Lan Xichen insisted. "Da-ge can rest in peace now."

Her mouth twisting into a monstrous grimace, Nie Huaisang started sobbing so heavily that she hardly seemed able to breathe. 

She’d always cried easily, but never quite like that. Worse still, she wouldn"t let her wife hold her or comfort her in any way, just crying harder every time Lan Xichen tried something. 

After that day, Nie Huaisang"s mood turned more sour than it had ever been, causing her friends to worry that she might try to kill herself out of grief and despair. 

Of course Lan Xichen came to Qinghe as often as she could, once Jin Rusong was old enough to be left with a wetnurse for longer periods. She was Madam Jin now, her mother-in-law having all but left public life after her husband’s death, knowing she was not loved enough to stand against the new sect leader. Lan Xichen was Madam Jin, and she could do as she pleased… within reason.

What pleased her was to go the Unclean Realm to see her true husband.

She went every week when she could (she rarely could). And even when she was stuck in Lanling for one reason or another, trapped by the duties of a sect leader’s wife, she would ask Nie Huaisang to come visit her. 

Those invitations were seldom accepted these days.

It just wasn’t possible, when Nie Huaisang struggled so much with her new position.

Both Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao tried to be there for her. They advised her on how to lead her sect. They guided her on dealing with other sect leaders, who were so unkind to her. They comforted her every time another disciple left the sect, tired of her weakness.

Two years after Nie Huaisang rose to power, no one would have called the Nie sect a great one anymore.

Four years after Nie Mingjue’s death, and his sect might as well have died with him.

It broke Lan Xichen’s heart to see her friend’s legacy so ruined. It hurt also to see Nie Huaisang so pathetic. Sometimes Lan Xichen could hardly believe the little fool she would hear tales of was truly the same person as the passionate and clever girl she had secretly married, all those years ago. She would have taken it for mere gossip against one of the world’s few female sect leaders. Yet whenever Jin Guangyao went alone to help Nie Huaisang, the stories he brought back made it clear she really was as stupid and clumsy as others said. She only made an effort if Lan Xichen was there as well, and even then it was shocking to see how her mind and heart had been broken by loss.

Lan Xichen’s son would have made a better sect leader than Nie Huaisang, and he was four .

But the comparison was unkind, because Jin Rusong was an exceptionally bright little boy. He did not speak much, didn’t play well with other children except for his cousin Jin Ling, but he could read simple characters already, and kept asking to start learning sword fighting. Every day Jin Rusong reminded his mother a little more of her brother, who had been an equally serious little boy. Lan Wangji must have noticed the resemblance as well and he doted on the little boy. Sometimes the two of them would sit in silence together, never saying a word, and yet apparently having a great time.

Whatever other regrets she had about her life, Lan Xichen was glad she had her son.

Jin Ruson was such a sweet child that even Nie Huaisang, who never found joy in anything these days, loved him as much as if he were hers. Nie Huaisang called him her son, on those rare moments when Lan Xichen and her still stole time to be alone. She certainly spoiled Jin Rusong the way Nie Mingjue had once spoiled her. There were no trinkets too pricey, no clothes too expensive, for the child of her wife.

Sometimes, Lan Xichen felt compelled to protest against those gifts. Nie Huaisang’s sect wasn’t doing well enough to afford such extravagance. It brought too much attention to their close relationship. It was just too much, and Lan Xichen’s education was horrified that anyone could spend so much on anything so frivolous.

Lan Xichen certainly protested when Nie Huaisang came to a discussion conference held in Lanling and brought a colourful bird in a pretty cage. It was an important conference, one that hoped to finally determine whether all the sects would come together to build a series of watchtowers to make it easier for isolated areas to be helped. This was not the time and place to force Jin Rusong’s parents to think on how to accommodate a pet they’d never asked for.

“But jiejie!” Nie Huaisang whined, her lips already trembling as if she might cry. “I just wanted to be nice…”

“Mama, please,” Jin Rusong had begged as well, pulling on his mother’s robe, pointing at the pretty bird with the other. “ Please ?”

Lan Xichen was already weak to either of them on a good day. When the two people she loved the most attacked together, she was powerless. She’d asked a servant to watch over Jin Rusong while Nie Huaisang and her went to find a place to put that bird until it could be dealt with, preferably somewhere quiet where they could steal a few kisses.

Lan Xichen would never see her son alive again.

He would be found, a while later, his little throat slit. The servant girl who’d been watching him laid on the floor, stabbed multiple times through the chest. 

Lan Xichen remembered screaming and gathering her son’s corpse in her arms, begging him to wake up.

Her child, her son, her precious Jin Rusong. Her little boy who was so much like his uncle, who smiled so rarely but was always happy when she played with him.

Her child.

While the guests of the conference gathered around her to witness this tragedy,  Lan Xichen distantly felt Jin Guangyao’s hand on her shoulder.

“We will find who did this,” he hissed through tears of his own. “Whoever killed my son will learn that my mercy has limits.”

It was a promise he immediately set out to make true. Before Jin Rusong was even buried, Jin Guangyao was following some leads regarding possible murderers. He never rested, hardly ever saw Lan Xichen, hardly spoke to her either, desperate to avenge his only son. He owed it to Jin Rusong, he said. He owed it to Lan Xichen, too, because no mother should have lost her child that way.

Abandoned to her grief by Jin Guangyao, at least Lan Xichen had Nie Huaisang to comfort her. Her true husband had stayed in Carp Tower even after all other guests had left. She couldn’t bear to leave Lan Xichen to deal with this alone, she’d told her wife. Not when she knew too well what loss of such a magnitude did to a person.

Without Nie Huaisang at her side, Lan Xichen might have gone insane, or she might have let herself die. But her husband made sure she ate and drank, that she slept when she needed to sleep, that she washed sometimes, that she was never alone with her grief.

Nie Huaisang who didn’t stutter or cry so much during the days she spent comforting her wife. Suddenly she was no longer the little fool they’d all grown used to, although she hadn’t quite reverted to the gentle girl Lan Xichen had fallen in love with, either. A coldness of heart sometimes pierced through even her best attempts at taking care of her wife, like a storm raging under the surface.

If Lan Xichen had been less broken, she might have wondered about that. 

But by the time she had recovered enough to notice something was wrong with Nie Huaisang, Jin Guangyao was ready to reveal what he had found about his son’s murder.

He would announce it that day, he’d told Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang over breakfast. The entire sect was to be present, so an offensive could be immediately launched against the culprits. Lan Xichen too had to be there, but it brought her little comfort. It would not bring her back her son to kill the murderer, and revenge on the scale that Jin Guangyao was planning went against her Lan education. She did not like that her presence at his side would be taken as support and approval on her part. She did not like that to be absent would have weakened Jin Guangyao’s position too much to be considered.

She was combing her hair, getting ready for this new ordeal, when Nie Huaisang joined her. She’d gone to check on the bird she’d gifted to their poor son, a bird she would now take home with her whenever she left. It was the only time she ever left Lan Xichen alone, and when she came back her eyes were always red. It seemed for the first time in her life, Nie Huaisang wanted to keep her tears to herself.

That morning, she looked to have cried a lot as she leaned against the wall near Lan Xichen’s mirror, but under the wetness still clinging to her eyelashes, there was an air of determination.

“It was Jin Guangyao who killed him,” Nie Huaisang said. “Your husband just wants to blame Wang-zongzhu to get rid of him.”

Lan Xichen’s hands froze in her hair and she turned to stare in shock.

“Is that what people are saying?” she asked. “Are the servants gossiping? Is that… are they really accusing him of…”

She broke into tears once more, sick with horror. Even after all this time, even after everything Jin Guangyao had done to bring peace and safety to the world… would gossip never end?

“Think about it,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “What did Wang-zonghu have to gain from Rusong’s death? Nothing. What does Jin Guangyao have to gain? Everything. Now everybody who opposes him will be siding with a murderer. He’ll get his towers. He’ll get anything he wants. And all he had to do…”

“Stop!” Lan Xichen cried when she realised her husband wasn’t merely warning her of rumours. “A-Sang, don’t tell me you think he’d do something like that? A-Yao isn’t… he’s not… Do you have any idea how much he cried? Do you know how much it broke him? He’s been blaming himself so much…”

“Rightfully so, since he organised it,” Nie Huaisang coldly remarked. “I know he did it. I cannot prove it, but I know it.”

“You cannot prove it because he would never do that.”

Nie Huaisang pinched her lips and glared at Lan Xichen, her disgust apparent.

“So you trust him more than me?”

Lan Xichen hesitated, but eventually nodded.

“Yes. About this, I trust him. That was his son , Huaisang. His son, his only child! What sort of a monster would…”

“The sort who knows he owns a womb that can give him more,” Nie Huaisang said with a shrug. “He convinced you once. He’ll convince you again. Maybe it’ll be easier now. Maybe he can breed you like a mare, one new child every year. You’ll need more than one, from now on. After all, they could die, right?”

Lan Xichen’s hand clenched on her comb, letting its teeth dig into her palm.

“Stop that!”

“I should not have let you marry him,” Nie Huaisang mused. “If I had known he’d turn you against me, I’d have fought harder to keep you. I trusted you too much. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“I’m not against you,” Lan Xichen objected. “ You’re against us ! I don’t know how you can say such things against A-Yao, after all he’s done for you… you wouldn’t be in your position, without his help!”

Nie Huaisang flinched, and twin tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I know that,” she hissed. “Better than you do. And if this is your choice… fine. Enjoy your life as his prized bitch, Xichen. But don’t get too attached to the children you give him. Who knows how long the next one will live, right?”

The comb in Lan Xichen’s hand flew toward Nie Huaisang’s face before Lan Xichen knew what she was doing. She must have put all her strength into it, because Nie Huaisang yelped in pain. She brought one hand to her cheek and found it bleeding.

“A-Sang, I didn’t mean…” Lan Xichen started to say, only to stop when her husband glared at her.

She’d never seen Nie Huaisang so angry before.

She hadn’t even known that Nie Huaisang was capable of such wrath. Not her Huaisang, her sweet little husband, who laughed easily and cried easily and never let anything bother her for long.

Without another word, Nie Huaisang left the room. Immediately, Lan Xichen knew the woman she had called her husband would never come back to her. 

She was not sure she would have wanted her too. 

Not after Nie Huaisang had said such awful things. Not after she’d wounded Nie Huaisang.

Lan Xichen just finished getting ready, and went to join Jin Guangyao so he could demand the extermination of the sect that had killed their son. She listened as he rallied the Jin sect against those murderers, and decided she would never tell him the horrible things Nie Huaisang had accused him of. Poor Jin Guangyao would be too hurt, if he knew what their dear friend thought of him.

As for the Wang sect, it never stood a chance. Every man in it was slaughtered. Every woman and children, too, as an example. It was no less than what they’d all done to the Wen sect after the war, and it would send a message that crime would not be tolerated. Lan Xichen knew her brother and uncle thought less of her for having allowed this, when it went against the principles of the Lan sect. She thought less of herself as well, but she convinced herself she had to support Jin Guangyao, that it was the only way the world would ever know peace.

A month after their son’s death, Jin Guangyao started hinting that they couldn’t stay without an heir, not when his position remained more fragile than he’d believed. He hated to ask this of her, he knew how the loss had affected her, he wasn’t ready to be a father again, not so soon after tragedy, but it simply couldn’t be delayed too long.

Bred like a mare, a new child every year, Nie Huaisang had said.

Lan Xichen did not want more children. She had not even wanted Jin Rusong, no matter how much she had grown to love him.

When she agreed to Jin Guangyao’s request, after a few weeks of nagging, it was less to please him, and more out of spite against Nie Huaisang.

A girl.

It’s a girl.

Lan Xichen almost wishes it had been a boy, because the world has no kindness in store for children of Jin Guangyao, because an early death might have been kinder. She cries when the newborn is finally given to her. Another child she never wanted. Another child she’ll have to teach herself to love.

But Jin Yan smiles when she’s introduced to her new sister, as happy as if the baby is a present just for her, and Lan Xichen remembers that she’s done this before, that she can do it again.

“Will this one stay?” Jin Yan suddenly asks when the new baby’s little hand clenches on one of her fingers.

Lan Xichen says nothing. What can she say to her daughter, who saw her pregnant three times, who only got to meet one of her siblings, and then only for such a short time? Two little sisters who were dead at birth, or so Lan Xichen was told at the time, and a boy who died less than a week after his hundredth day celebration.

In Jin Yan’s experience, siblings aren’t meant to stay long.

But Nie Huaisang, sitting on the bed with them, smiles at the little girl.

“Don’t worry, Yan-er, I’ll make sure nothing happens to this one,” Nie Huaisang promises, ruffling the child’s hair with affectionate warmth. “There is a good doctor here, better than you had at home. And I know you’ll be a good sister. You’ll have to help your mother, you know. Being someone’s jiejie is a big responsibility.”

Jin Yan promises, and she gets to hold her new little sister, with some help from Nie Huaisang. And then Nie Huaisang too holds the baby, rocking it gently, the same way she once did with Jin Rusong.

The way she did to Jin Ruan, the day he died.

Lan Xichen has been wondering about that day since the moment she’s understood who Nie Huaisang really is. She is now wondering again, watching her still nameless daughter in the arms of a woman who maybe killed her second son.

There are questions Lan Xichen will never ask.

Questions she doesn’t need to ask.

She can sleep more easily if she pretends she doesn’t know the answer.

The month after the birth of the child who Lan Xichen eventually decides to call Jin Xiu is a peaceful one. The Nie doctor visits daily to make sure she’s recovering well, and the old midwife comes twice because she says she doesn’t trust cultivators of the Nie sect to know the first thing about newborns. Nie Huaisang too comes to the cottage every chance she has. Sometimes she plays with Jin Yan, who now adores her. Other times she takes both Jin Yan and Jin Xiu in the garden so Lan Xichen can sleep. On occasion she dumps both children with the wetnurse she’s hired and sits on Lan Xichen’s bed to feed her sweets and chat about inconsequential gossip or the latest poem she’s obsessed with.

Nie Huaisang is so good at playing the part of a perfect husband, even though she hasn’t called herself that in over half a decade. Sometimes Lan Xichen lets it fool her. She allows herself to pretend this is truly their life, that they’re raising children together, that Nie Huaisang loves her, that she loves Nie Huaisang.

Nie Huaisang never lets her pretend too long.

“Why didn’t you give your daughter a different last name?” Nie Huaisang suddenly asks one day while cutting a mango in a bowl for Lan Xichen.

Lan Xichen stares at the fruit, bright yellow, shiny with juice. Nie Huaisang’s fingers are sticky with it already, just as they had been on a happier afternoon, half a lifetime ago.

“Yan-er wouldn’t understand if her sister had a different name,” Lan Xichen replies.

“You could always change her name too,” Nie Huaisang points out, smiling as her knife slices through a piece of mango. “Or are you so attached to the legacy of your husband?”

“I married him. That never made him my husband.”

Nie Huaisang raises one eyebrow. Once, she used to smile when Lan Xichen said this. It was a promise whispered between kisses, a reminder that Jin Guangyao was her friend and nothing else, that her heart only belonged to the woman she truly counted as her husband.

Once, they used to be happy.

Lan Xichen doesn’t even know why she said this.

“Open your mouth,” Nie Huaisang orders, pressing a piece of mango against Lan Xichen’s lips, who immediately obeys.

The fruit is sweet and melts against her tongue, leaving Lan Xichen wanting more.

It tastes like love used to taste.

“Another?” Nie Huaisang asks softly.

Lan Xichen nods and opens her mouth again.

Nie Huaisang smirks, and empties her bowl on the floor. Yellow pieces of fruit fall with a wet noise. When Nie Huaisang stands from the bed, she makes sure to step on them.

“You’ve ruined the taste of mangoes for me,” Nie Huaisang says. “I don’t see why you should still get to enjoy them. And as for those Jin daughters of yours…”

Lan Xichen takes a sharp breath, fearing the worst.

“From now on, they’ll be named Nie,” Nie Huaisang announces. “I find that I like them well enough, which is more than I can say about you. I’m letting you keep them for now, but once they’re old enough they’ll join my other disciples and only visit on special occasions. I understand it is something of a tradition for murderous wives of your family?”

“Huaisang…”

“Maybe next time you’ll think twice before invoking the past,” Nie Huaisang says with a smile. “You’ve chosen who you wanted as your husband, now live with it.”

She leaves soon after that, but the smell of the mango linger in the room, and its taste haunts Lan Xichen"s mouth.

Maybe for her too that taste has been ruined. 

Jin Yan’s birth had brought Lan Xichen’s little joy. A boy would have been better, everyone made sure she understood that. Jin Guangyao couldn’t completely hide his frustration over that child that was of so little use to him, and that frustration infected Lan Xichen as well, who had disliked this pregnancy more than the first. Without Nie Huaisang’s visits to distract her, without her sweet husband’s letters between those visits, she had been left entirely at the mercy of Jin doctors and Jin traditions, bored out of her mind. And now, because she’s been unlucky enough to give birth to a girl, Lan Xichen knew she’d have to go through that ordeal at least once more. 

She did learn to love her daughter, in time, but only out of desperation.

The child after Jin Yan was another daughter, who died after being taken away to be washed. A weak heart, Jin Guangyao told her as they both cried over this unexpected loss. Lan Xichen hadn’t even had a chance to hold that baby, had never even seen her face. She didn’t get to mourn, not really, not when Jin Yan needed her, not when she had so many duties as a sect leader’s wife, not when as soon as she had recovered from the birth, Jin Guangyao started hinting that they should try again.

Their third daughter too had a weak heart, and also died on the day of her birth. Lan Xichen, who during the whole pregnancy had monitored the baby’s heart out of fear something like that would happen, didn’t know what to think. Checking the pulse of an unborn child was no easy task, she might have done it wrong. She had to have been wrong, or else it meant someone had killed her daughter. Lan Xichen refused to let her thoughts linger on that possibility. 

She didn’t want to accuse… it was only Nie Huaisang’s poisonous words clouding her judgement.  Jin Guangyao would not. He’d always dreamed of a large family, he’d told her so.

He’d told her, also, that he dreamed of having sons, legitimate sons, so his succession wouldn’t be marred by the sort of tragedies that his father had encountered when his only heir died prematurely. One girl was fine, for alliances, but what they needed was at least two sons to be safe, though Jin Guangyao was willing to settle for just one, if Lan Xichen felt he had already asked too much of her.

Some nights, during her fifth pregnancy, Lan Xichen found herself plagued by dark thoughts. She remembered Jin Guangyao’s carefully concealed irritation when she had refused to have another child until Jin Yan was a year old, how even then she’d complained how difficult it was to balance a pregnancy and a toddler. She had warned him they’d need to wait longer next time, that no matter how many wetnurses they hired, it took too much out of her. But with those undesired girls out of the way, she had no excuse not to start trying for a boy immediately.

How convenient.

Terrible thoughts indeed, which she blamed on Nie Huaisang, the woman who wasn’t even her friend anymore, and on the heightened emotions her pregnancy caused.

Jin Guangyao would never .

He mourned both little girls.

He was a good father for Jin Yan.

He was an even better father for Jin Ruan, when finally Lan Xichen gave birth to another boy. He doted on the baby, bought all manners of toys for him, and made sure he was dressed in the finest silks. Jin Guangyao had done the same with Jin Rusong, of course, and Lan Xichen had never questioned it, but now she couldn’t help noticing he wasn’t nearly as doting with little Jin Yan.

But of course, that was natural. Boys just mattered more, Lan Xichen’s whole life had been shaped by that fact.

And Jin Guangyao wanted only the best for his son.

That, apparently, included the certainty that Jin Ruan would inherit the Jin sect.

But no, even that was an unkind thought. Jin Guangyao hadn’t wanted… he’d had no choice, the elders of his sect had left him no choice. It wasn’t his fault.

It had been something of an open secret for years that Jin Ling had probably been conceived a little before his parents’ marriage. The dates didn’t quite make sense otherwise. And these things happened of course, especially for couples as deeply in love as Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan had been.

But around the birth of Jin Ruan, a new rumour spread, one much darker than an engaged couple"s indiscretion. People spoke of Jiang Yanli visiting Yiling, around the time Jin Ling would have been conceived. She’d met Wei Wuxian there, while wearing a bride’s dress , and stayed several hours with him inside an inn , while his fearsome Ghost General guarded the door for them, threatening all those who dared approach.

It would have been nothing more than a rumour, but a former disciple of Yunmeng Jiang swore that he had accompanied Jiang Yanli on that day. Worse still, several current members of Yunmeng Jiang gave weight to those accusations when they tried to explain what had really happened, which backfired when it only confirmed the reality of that visit.

After Jin Ruan’s hundredth’s day celebration, Jin Guangyao advised Jiang Cheng to take his nephew to Yunmeng for a while, for his own safety.

Two days after Jin Ling had left, a group of Jin elders pressured Jin Guangyao into declaring his nephew illegitimate. Jin Guangyao was heartbroken, and assured everyone that he did not believe those rumours against his nephew, but those elders had threatened secession if he allowed a possible child of Wei Wuxian to rule over their sect. To protect Lanling Jin, to protect Jin Ling himself, Jin Guangyao had to remove him from the line of succession.

Three days later, Jin Ruan died in Nie Huaisang’s arms.

It hadn’t been Lan Xichen’s choice to spend any time with Nie Huaisang. But for years already, Jin Guangyao had been working on a reconciliation, even when neither of them would explain why they’d fallen out, nor indeed admit that they no longer got along. It saddened him, he would tell Lan Xichen, that his two dear friends had argued, that they even avoided each other’s company. More importantly, it made his friendship with Nie Huaisang suspicious to some, especially when she relied so much on him to rule her sect. Lan Xichen knew Nie Huaisang too well to think she’d ever take a man as her lover, but others couldn’t know that, and she hated that people would think Jin Guangyao capable of betraying the woman he married. To protect his reputation, Lan Xichen agreed to make an effort to be more cordial toward Nie Huaisang next she saw her.

And she saw her next right after that business with Jin Ling was dealt with.

Poor Jin Guangyao had only just been forced to exile his beloved nephew, and now he had to deal with Nie Huaisang’s most recent series of problems on top of that. He’d been eager to help, as always, which impressed Lan Xichen a little more with each passing year, when everything she had once loved about Nie Huaisang now irritated her. Once Nie Huaisang had explained the problem, Jin Guangyao had offered to write some letters on her behalf, and he’d gone to do so, leaving Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen alone.

Nearly alone.

Little Ruan was in his mother’s arms, while Jin Yan hid in her mother’s skirts, at once fascinated and worried by this stranger who dressed so oddly. Even after all these years, Nie Huaisang still hadn’t fixed her men’s robes (another source of irritation, how hard could it be to not look so silly?) and little Jin Yan was trying so hard not to say anything rude. But it wasn’t just the children with them. Jin Ruan’s wetnurse was never far. Female disciples came at one point, to complain that their favourite teacher was thinking of defecting, now that Jin Ling had left for good. A number of servants were coming and going to ask for instructions, to check how to deal with the last remains of the hundredth day celebration, or notify that they weren’t sure how to finish packing Jin Ling’s things to send to Yunmeng.

Lan Xichen wouldn’t have known how to behave, had she believed alone with the woman who thought she had married a murderer. But in public it was easier to act with grace and politeness, to chat with Nie Huaisang as if she were one of those wives of sect leaders who Lan Xichen often welcomed in her home. In response, Nie Huaisang was indecisive and whiny, just as expected.

Later on, Lan Xichen couldn’t remember why she had handed Jin Ruan to Nie Huaisang. It couldn’t be that the other woman had asked for it, not when she’d never hidden she wasn’t comfortable with children until they were old enough to walk and babble. It must have been Lan Xichen’s own idea, then. Maybe she had hoped that Nie Huaisang would stop snivelling for a moment if she was busy holding the baby. But then there had been an issue with Jin Ling’s things, yet again. Jiang Cheng had just sent a letter containing a precise list of every possession of his nephew’s that should be sent to Yunmeng.

With another guest, Lan Xichen would have set the letter aside for later. But she felt Nie Huaisang had lost the rights to her attention, and this was urgent business.

She’d made it halfway reading through the list when Nie Huaisang started panicking.

“Jiejie, there’s something wrong with the baby!” she cried.

Lan Xichen elected to ignore her.

There had been ‘something wrong with the baby’ four times already that afternoon, usually Jin Ruan blinking too little, or salivating too much.

“Jiejie, he’s not breathing!” Nie Huaisang shrieked, and this time Lan Xichen did look up from the letter, more irritated than worried.

Had it been anyone else holding her son, anyone else screaming like this, of course she would have reacted faster. But Lan Xichen had grown immune to those antics, and tended to assume Nie Huaisang’s mood changes could be safely ignored.

But the wetnurse rushed to Nie Huaisang’s side and took the child from her. It was only when that woman too cried in anguish and went pale that Lan Xichen truly understood that something terrible had happened.

By the time Jin Ruan was given back to her, his face and hands were already blue, his limbs limp in a way sleep would never have explained.

They never really figured out what had killed him. 

The doctors who inspected his little body found nothing wrong with it. It appeared he had really just stopped breathing all of a sudden. Babies could be so fragile, as Lan Xichen knew too well. And yet, while he had taken the death of their daughters in stride, Jin Guangyao immediately started throwing accusations of poisoning now that it was a son who had died.

Nobody accused poor little Nie Huaisang of course. She’d cried and cried so much when she’d understood that Jin Ruan had died, blaming herself for what had happened, threatening to kill herself because surely it was her fault, surely she must have held him the wrong way. 

No matter how many times everyone told her she’d done nothing wrong, she tried to use this new tragedy for attention and Lan Xichen, forced to control her grief and guilt, hated her for it.

Nie Huaisang was annoying and self-centred, as she’d always been, but that did not make her a murderer. Besides she had nothing to gain from such a death, Jin Guangyao quickly pointed out, nor did she have allies who could have pushed her to it. In fact, Jin Guangyao himself was her only ally, the only reason the Nie sect’s territories hadn’t yet been fully devoured by ambitious neighbours. Nie Huaisang was an idiot, but even she wasn’t stupid enough to turn against her only friend. She could have been manipulated into taking part into a plot perhaps, but she had been thoroughly interrogated about the events of that day and Jin Guangyao was convinced of her innocence.

Instead, accusations were aimed against Yunmeng Jiang, which had been given some reason to dislike Lanling Jin and whose sect leader was renowned for his cruelty. Meanwhile, Jiang Wanyin rightfully argued that there was a history of infant death among Jin Ruan’s siblings, proving it must be Jin Ruan’s parents who just couldn’t give birth to a healthy child. This, combined with Jin Ling’s eviction from his father’s sect, permanently soured the relationship between Lanling and Yunmeng.

After this new tragedy, Lan Xichen informed Jin Guangyao that they would not have any more children. There was only so much grief her heart could take, only so many children she could lose. Jin Guangyao was disappointed, but he respected her choice and he promised he would never ask again.

Jin Guangyao kept his word, too, and for a little while they merely focused on raising Jin Yan.

Jin Guangyao never complained whenever people whispered that it was his rotten blood that caused his children to die. He tried to spare Lan Xichen whenever people worried about the future of the Jin sect, now that its only heir was a girl, in a sect that did not allow them to lead. Jin Guangyao endured all this and more. Sometimes Lan Xichen would find him crying alone in his office, but he always put on a brave smile, always told her she did not need to worry, that he would find a solution, that he had already asked so much of her, that he couldn’t possibly demand more than she had already given.

Lan Xichen could only see her dear friend suffering for so long before pity became stronger than her broken heart. Two years after Jin Ruan’s death, she offered that they try for a child again. Their last one, she said, and maybe they would be lucky this time.

They would have to be lucky.

Odd rumours had started reaching them when Lan Xichen made that new concession. Stories of Wei Wuxian returning to life, scouring the countryside with his Ghost General once more. Someone even swore to Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao that Wei Wuxian had called onto Wen Ning specifically because Jin Ling had been in danger, and wasn’t that proof Jin Ling had to be his son? It had to be why Wei Wuxian had killed Jin Zixuan, so many years before, that person said. He must have wanted to steal his son back from the Jin sect… and then didn’t it confirm they’d been right to kick that orphan boy out, that son of a monster, who had probably cursed his little cousin Jin Ruan as revenge, using his father’s methods?

It was nothing but gossip, the whole lot of it. Lan Xichen eventually learned the truth when her uncle wrote to give a more accurate account of the situation. The Ghost General had been spotted indeed, but Mo Xuanyu, who had controlled him, had been firmly proven to not be Wei Wuxian, even Jiang Cheng himself had confirmed it. And besides, that was almost the least interesting part of the story. Lan Xichen was more curious about the cursed arm her uncle mentioned, as well as Lan Wangji’s new friendship with Mo Xuanyu. Jin Guangyao’s half brother was not someone Lan Xichen knew well, but she knew what he’d tried to do to Jin Guangyao. And yet if Lan Wangji had decided to involve him in his investigation, it had to mean Mo Xuanyu had used his years away from the Jin sect to redeem himself.

How very interesting..

But all of that interested only her. Everyone else focused only on the sensational tales of Wei Wuxian and his secret child.

Lan Xichen was almost glad when she very quickly realised she was pregnant.

With everything going on in the world, at least here was some good news for Jin Guangyao, who was so worried about his nephew’s future, and all these horrible rumours he had to deal with.

And who knew.

Maybe they’d be lucky, and finally the Jin sect would have a male heir once more.

Poor Jin Guangyao deserved that much, after he’d suffered so long.

Nie Yan is in class with other children her age, and Nie Xiu has been sent to the garden with the wet nurse. Having isolated Lan Xichen once more, Nie Huaisang closes the door of the cottage.

Lan Xichen braces herself, unsure if she’ll have to endure kindness or cruelty this time. Unsure which is worse.

“Jiejie, don’t look so scared,” Nie Huaisang purrs, stepping closer. “I’m not scary, am I?”

She’s terrifying. Or at least, Lan Xichen is terrified. Not just because of the things Nie Huaisang is capable of doing, the things she’s capable of saying.

Lan Xichen is terrified because for the first time in years, Nie Huaisang isn’t wearing men’s robes. Instead she came to the cottage wearing a flowy dress in the style she so loved as a youth, decorated with pretty embroidered flowers and birds. Her hair is done up in the fashionable style that her brother once complained was unpractical.

Nie Huaisang was pretty as a girl, but today she’s beautiful enough to make Lan Xichen’s heart ache.

This outfit is for her, she knows.

She’s not sure if it’s meant to please or torture her.

She’s not sure there’s a difference anymore, when it comes to Nie Huaisang.

“Jiejie, won’t you tell me I look nice?” Nie Huaisang whines, in exactly the same tone she used once, when fishing for compliments was one of her favourite games.

Lan Xichen feels a decade younger when she looks at Nie Huaisang.

She feels like the girl who secretly married her true love, with only her best friend as witness.

A girl who thought that she’d already experienced all the hurt the world had in store for her, because surely nothing could be worse than the war she’d just survived.

A girl who still believed in happiness.

“Jiejie, won’t you touch me?” Nie Huaisang begs so prettily. “Jiejie hasn’t touched me in so long, don’t you want me anymore?”

Lan Xichen isn’t a girl of twenty anymore.

She’s given up on happiness, on love.

She knows no matter what Nie Huaisang lets her have now, it will quickly be soured by hateful words.

She still takes Nie Huaisang in her arms, still presses her lips to those of the woman she once loved. Nie Huaisang’s mouth opens to let her deepen the kiss, the taste of her unchanged by tragedy.

It’s dizzying, how little has changed. The way Nie Huaisang’s breasts feel just as soft, her sex just as wet. Her moans still sound like a melody. Lan Xichen, after a decade of giving, allows herself to take and take everything she can have.

She’d forgotten how good it can be, to be in bed with someone who knows her body better than she knows it, someone she wants as she’s never wanted anything else.

Lan Xichen doesn’t know how she survived without this.

When it is over, they lay entwined and sweaty on a ruined bed. Lan Xichen had forgotten how good that was, too. She’d never allowed Jin Guangyao to stay with her, after their attempts for children, and he’d never asked. But Nie Huaisang is wrapped against her side, her skin burning and soft, and she’d missed this more than she’d missed making love.

“My wife is thinking too much,” Nie Huaisang yawns cutely. “What can she be thinking about, I wonder?”

Something in her voice is… off. A warning that the time for joy is over, that she’s getting ready to hurt Lan Xichen again. Lan Xichen has learned to recognise that shift over the weeks of her imprisonment in Qinghe.

And if she must hurt anyway…

“This wife wonders when her husband stopped loving her,” Lan Xichen replies, gazing at the ceiling above them.

Nie Huaisang chuckles lightning, nuzzling Lan Xichen’s shoulder.

“But jiejie, two girls can’t be in love,” she says. “That"s what you always used to say, don’t you remember? You must have been right. I must never have loved you, if I can now hate you so much.”

That’s a lie. Lan Xichen can doubt many things, she’s been wrong so often, but she knows that Nie Huaisang loved her, that she loved Nie Huaisang. In a world of shadows, this is one absolute truth she can cling to.

“Are you going to kill me someday?” Lan Xichen asks.

“If I wanted you dead, I’d have left you in Lanling,” Nie Huaisang replies with a grin, stretching to kiss Lan Xichen’s throat with tenderness. “Death wouldn’t be nearly enough for what you’ve done to me, to Da-ge, to the world. No, this is the only appropriate punishment, jiejie. Everything you’ve ever wanted, and yet none of it.”

Shivering, Lan Xichen finds that she really can’t think of anything worse. Losing her daughters maybe… but she’s not much of a mother, she’s survived so much loss, she’d survive again.

“Isn’t it a punishment for you too?” Lan Xichen wonders “When you hate me this much?”

Nie Huaisang bites her in answer, hard enough to make Lan Xichen moan.

“It has its rewards,” Nie Huaisang chirps. “I like knowing that you’re so pathetic, you’re happier with me now than you ever were with him.”

Lan Xichen hums, and lets her fingers run through Nie Huaisang’s hair.

It’s not untrue that she’s happier now. She’s a prisoner certainly, but back in Lanling her actions were also constantly restrained and questioned too. Here she is allowed to cultivate as she pleases. Nobody sneers if her hair isn’t perfect, if she dresses more simply because it’s practical. Here, her daughters are allowed to play in the dirt and stain their clothes. She can read cultivation books without being accused of neglecting her other duties, she can read novels and not be taken for a bad example. And Nie Huaisang, cruel and vicious and hateful, Nie Huaisang who killed her son, Nie Huaisang who made her kill the man she married, is still the person whose company makes Lan Xichen happiest.

Lan Xichen would rather be hated by Nie Huaisang than loved by Jin Guangyao.

Maybe that is why she lowers her head to capture the lips of the woman who was once her husband. She kisses her while her hands start wandering again on that adored body, ready to steal more pleasure, for as long as Nie Huaisang’s cruel games  will allow it.