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In the days following their return from Qiongqi Path, Jiang Cheng had barely seen Wen Qing, both of them swept up into the chaos of settling the Wen remnants into Lotus Pier. Jiang Cheng worked tirelessly, making sure there were enough rooms for all the new people who would be staying with them, assigning a tighter guard shift around Lotus Pier’s border in case anyone (namely the Jin ) tried any shit, sending communication to his sister who was still at Carp Tower, and generally managing the political shitshow he had found himself in.
Wen Qing was working just as ceaselessly; despite the grief that clearly weighed heavily on her shoulders, she was still attending to her family’s needs and safety as they got settled in their new environment. Jiang Cheng understood all too well the impulse to throw oneself into work to avoid confronting the pain of loss. Illness and injuries were frequent in work camps like that at Qiongqi Path, and so she enlisted the help of the Jiang sect’s medics to tend to their wounds and infections. When she wasn’t helping the sick, she was with Wei Wuxian, who had disappeared with Wen Ning’s body as soon as they’d arrived at Lotus Pier. Jiang Cheng knew he was going to have to deal with whatever the fuck was happening there sooner or later, but that was a problem for later.
Beyond a few passing glimpses as they went about their separate work, Jiang Cheng barely saw Wen Qing aside from mumbled greetings in the morning and quiet acknowledgments as they both collapsed into bed at night, overcome with exhaustion. If it weren’t for the spare bed he’d had added to his room as soon as they arrived, there would be some days when he might not have seen her at all.
It had been a week now. The Wen remnants were becoming settled in the guest rooms, though these were only temporary solutions; he hoped to build them their own space just off of Lotus Pier once everything was calmer. His disciples had adjusted to their presence with the degree of adaptability the Jiang sect was known for. The Jin sect hadn’t arrived on their doorstep yet, and Jiang Yanli had already responded to his letter to tell him she was on her way home. Now was probably the closest he would get to a breather.
“Wen-guniang,” he said while they were both getting ready for the day, the sun barely peeking over the lake’s edge. She paused while tying her hair up and glanced over at him. He hesitated, unsure how to word his request without it sounding like an order. “Would you take dinner with me tonight?”
Her eyes widened, but she swiftly schooled her expression and nodded. “I will meet you here,” she said, and then she grabbed her needles and left.
His day was, of course, just as busy as every other day had been, but he insisted on taking his dinner in his room instead of working while he ate like he normally would. True to her word, Wen Qing met him there. The first few minutes of dinner were awkward, both of them quietly eating their food. She wasn’t looking at him.
“Have you been eating?” he asked, finally breaking the silence. He hadn’t seen her at any of the mealtimes, but he assumed she’d been with her family. She nodded.
“The Jiang sect has been very generous,” she said, picking up a piece of steamed fish with her chopsticks. “It’s more food than many of us have had in months,” she added.
“I’m glad. When jiejie arrives, I’m sure she’ll single handedly cook you all enough to last a lifetime,” Jiang Cheng said, attempting to lighten the mood. “She hates to see anyone go hungry.”
A small smile appeared on Wen Qing’s face. “Your sister is very kind.”
“She is.” Silence fell for another moment as Jiang Cheng picked at his food. “Once everything calms down, I’ll begin construction on additional houses for everyone, so you don’t have to cram into guest rooms. We’ve been rebuilding non-stop since the war began. A few more houses won’t hurt.”
“You don’t need to pull resources away from your own sect for us,” she said, frowning. He shook his head.
“Those resources would’ve been put towards new houses anyway. Besides, we could use more hands around here, if they’d be willing to stick around.” Her face did something complicated at his words, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. Now it was his turn to avoid her gaze, looking down at his rice. “I was wondering whether Wen-guniang would want her room to be built alongside them, or if she’d rather it be closer to here.”
“Excuse me?” Wen Qing’s expression had solidified into confusion, which often had a suspicious tint to it on her face.
“My parents always had separate rooms, so people here won’t find it strange,” he attempted to explain. “If you stay closer, people will be more likely to see you as the lady of Lotus Pier, but I understand if you’d rather be with your family.”
She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes clearly analyzing him. He wasn’t sure what she saw, but she eventually put her chopsticks down and sat up straighter. “Jiang-zongzhu,” she said, businesslike, “We need to discuss this marriage.”
“Alright,” he said. He kind of thought that’s what they were doing already, but sure.
“What are your expectations for our relationship?” She was very carefully not giving anything away on her face.
“Our relationship?” He put down his bowl, trying to match her attitude. “Well, I expect the Jin and their allies aren’t going to be happy about it, but as long as we don’t give them any reason to doubt us, they can’t easily accuse us of lying.”
“What about a wedding?” She pressed. “Will we get married in the public eye?”
“I don’t think it would be safe to have an especially public wedding, but we do need to make some kind of gesture to make it seem official. Maybe something small with just our two families.” He’d bring it up with his sister when she arrived. She would certainly want to be involved in planning his wedding, even if it’s a false one, and a good party might drag Wei Wuxian out of whatever depression cave he’d crawled into.
“And what about after that?” She continued, and when she saw he didn’t understand her implication, she added, “What about heirs?”
Jiang Cheng was glad he’d stopped eating because he was certain he would have choked, and if she had to save him from perishing on a chunk of fish in his throat, he would die on the spot from embarrassment. “Heirs?”
“Jiang-zongzhu, I appreciate everything you are doing for me and my family,” Wen Qing folded her hands on her lap and stared him down imperiously, “But I have no intention of having sex with you.”
Jiang Cheng wondered if the stress of the last week had finally pushed him over the edge and this was a hallucination caused by qi deviation. “I didn’t expect you to!”
“You didn’t?” Wen Qing seemed doubtful.
“No!” he exclaimed, horrified. “Did you agree to this thinking I would force myself on you?”
“No,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t have agreed if I thought you were that kind of man. But I still had concerns.”
Jiang Cheng groaned and sank his face into his hands for one indulgent minute. “Wen-guniang, the only thing I expect from you is for you to keep up the lie in front of outsiders. As long as we’re civil, it’ll be a more believable love match than my parents’ marriage, and no one will have any room to accuse us of anything. When it’s just us, you don’t have to put on an act. Hell, you can ignore me in front of everyone at Lotus Pier if that’s what you want. They’ve seen worse behavior.”
“I won’t ignore you.” To his surprise, Wen Qing reached into a subtle pocket in her robes and pulled out a small bundle of cloth. She unfolded it to reveal a familiar red comb.
“You kept it,” he murmured, shocked.
“Of course.” She lifted it out of its wrappings and gently ran her fingers over its delicate carvings. “I always knew I would someday have to marry someone I didn’t love.”
Jiang Cheng swallowed thickly. “I understand.” And he did. Ever since he first learned what being clan heir meant, he knew he’d have to marry for political reasons at some point, and it didn’t matter how disinterested he was in marriage.
“I’m glad to be marrying someone I at least care about,” Wen Qing said, surprising him once more. She looked up from the comb and gave him a small smile. “As for your earlier question, Jiang-zongzhu, there’s no need to build me another room. I’m quite comfortable here.”
“Oh. Okay,” he said, feeling slightly light-headed, and then he impulsively added, “Call me Jiang Cheng.” Now it was her turn to look at him with surprise. “Everyone close to me calls me that. Well, Wei Wuxian does. Jiejie calls me A-Cheng, but you probably wouldn’t want to do that,” he said quickly, his nerves making the words tumble out one after another.
“Jiang Cheng,” she interrupted him, her smile having returned slightly broader than before. “You should finish your meal. We both have a long day tomorrow.”
He gladly took the opportunity to hide his embarrassment in his bowl of rice. They fell asleep in their separate beds as they had every other night that week, but the distance across the room from each other did not feel so far. When they both woke with the sun the next morning, she gave him a smile when they went in their separate directions. The road ahead of them was unclear, but with her strength behind him, Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but feel he could face whatever came their way.