Chapter Text
Jin Guangyao is called to his father’s chambers by a terrified servant two days before a banquet, pulled away from greeting guests to handle what the maid claims is an escalating argument.
Inside, Jin Guangshan and Qin Cangye are seated at the table. Jin Guangshan is slumped over the front, and for a moment Jin Guangyao thinks he is drunk before he registers the bloom of blood and alcohol soaking his front.
Qin Cangye is in disarray, but the kind that says he has smoothed out his hair and robes between stabbing the Jin Sect leader and Jin Guangyao arriving. The fact he is kneeling at the table and making no moves to do anything else is perhaps the only reason the Jin Sect disciples behind him have not killed him.
The idea he is not responsible for the knife in Jin Guangshan’s chest is laughable. So Jin Guangyao doesn’t entertain it. Instead, he turns to the disciples, smiling, “Has Madame Jin been informed yet?”
“Of course I have,” Madame Jin snaps, pushing her way into the room. She doesn’t gasp, simply purses her lips and slides her gaze from Jin Guangyao to Qin Cangye and back.
She is followed by Jin Zixuan. Who does gasp. But it is a small one, and immediately followed by a furrowing of his brow that could be confusion if his expressions managed to look like anything other than mild to moderate disdain.
“Jin Guangshan raped my wife,” Qin Cangye says, voice shaking with anger and fists clenched in his robes. His gaze remains on a piece of paper laid on the table. “Qin Su is your half-sister.”
A-Su? A-Su is his sister?
Predictably, Madams Jin’s face flashes in rage and she orders, “Kill him.”
In the doorway, Jin Zixuan flinches at the splatter of blood. Jin Guangyao does not. He’s keeping too many other emotions from showing on his face to affect being affected.
“You,” Madame Jin shouts, whirling on Jin Guangyao, slapping him across the face in a way that breaks open a cut on his lips, “how could you let this happen?”
“I was seeing to our other guests. I did not know anyone from Lanling Qin had arrived at Koi Tower,” Jin Guangyao says, bowing, smiling.
“Useless, incompetent,” Madam Jin shouts, then she turns to her son, “And you. You’re weak. You’re Sect Leader now and you can’t watch your father’s murderer die without looking away. How did I raise such a weak son!”
With Jin Guangyao still there, along with the two dead sect leaders and a scattering of servants and disciples, her attention doesn’t remain on her son for long. “Why are you all standing around? Clean this up! Zixuan stop standing there and take care of your father!”
Zixuan jolts forward, servants at his side to gather the dead sect leader. Sect Leader Qin is handled less respectfully.
“What shall I tell our guests?” Jin Guangyao asks, bowing, smiling. Polite. Genial. Helpful. Non-threatening.
“The Sect Leader has been killed and his assailant dealt with.” Nothing that would make the sect look weak. She lifts the paper on the table and after giving it a quick glance, crumples it into a ball. “Zixuan and I will deal with Lanling Qin. You have ruined enough, Guangyao.”
“Yes, of course, Madam Jin.” Smile. Bow.
When he straightens, Madam Jin looks ready to lash out with whatever remains of her anger, so he bows again. Smiles again. “Surely, our guests must be informed. Please allow me to make our excuses and tell everyone that the banquet must be postponed.”
He is dismissed.
+
He goes first to his room, to cover the coming bruise with powder and the blood on his lip with color.
Then he does as is expected of a filial son, the sour knowledge of knowing he will never have a chance to prove himself to his father rising to the back of his throat.
His place in Koi Tower is not assured. Zixuan on his own tolerates Jin Guangyao. But Madam Jin does not. It is easy to contemplate how to solve that problem while playing the part of the filial son. He has had long enough practice, the smile comes easily.
It does not take long to come up with a decision. Or a plan.
+
“A-Yao,” Lan Xichen says, after Jin Guangyao has made his rounds. After Jin Guangyao has played the part of filial son. After--
“Er-ge.” He breathes it out like a sigh, like a smile.
Xichen’s smile for him is genuine and kind in a way few are around him. It makes it all that easier to let the smile that comes naturally to him show.
“What are you doing here, er-ge? Surely Zewu-Jun has more important things to do.”
“I have come to offer my condolences.”
Bowing, Jin Guangyao says, “Then on behalf of-- ”
Lan Xichen stops him, hands beneath his arms, gently raising him back up. “A-Yao.” He doesn’t say anything more until Jin Guangyao looks up. “The Lan Sect has already paid its respects. I am here for you.”
There is so much emotion behind his words, Jin Guangyao has to turn away, look down and tuck a smile into his heart.
“I know how much he meant to you.”
Do you really know how much his approval meant to me? How far I would go for it? Is what he wants to ask, but instead says, “Everything I have done has been to earn his favor and now it is impossible.”
“Surely Jin Zixuan will recognize your talents.”
Jin Guangyao can feel the jealousy rise up at the mention of his brother. His brother who always had their father’s favor. Who now is sect leader. Who is cowed by his mother. Madam Jin had done her best to convince her husband to send Jin Guangyao away. She had not succeeded. She will with her son though. “I am not sure of that, er-ge.”
“A-Yao.”
“We both know how Madam Jin feels,” Jin Guangyao says, interrupting Xichen. He does not finish the sentence though. He cannot. Because of how the words feel branded across his skin, and how kind a-Su who has never derided him for his birth is now in danger of the same hate. If she has not already been sentenced to death with her clan for her fathers’ crimes.
“But doesn’t Madam Jin wish to see Jin Zixuan marry Jiang Yanli?” Xichen asks, calm, reassuring, astute when it comes to the better sides of others. “It is well known how much Lady Jiang cares about her brothers. Surely, Jin Zixuan distancing himself from his own would be counter to that goal.”
Jin Guangyao bows in thanks. Predictably, Xichen stops him. “A-Yao.” It is a gentle reminder not to, but there is also concern.
“I must speak to my brother.”
“Of course,” Xichen says.
Jin Guanygao does not leave yet though, the soft warmth of Xichen’s fingers pressed against his sleeves. He does not have anything he needs Xichen’s help with, but he cannot tear himself from the soft touch on his arms. “I have one other problem, if er-ge would hear it?”
“Of course. What is it, a-Yao?”
It is easy to pull up something, anything, to keep Xichen listening, speaking, there in front of him. There is also a shine in Xichen’s eyes and hint to his smile, like he knows what Jin Guangyao is doing and allowing it, but eventually Xichen says, “Forgive me, a-Yao. It is late and I must return to my rooms.”
“Of course, er-ge,” Jin Guangyao says around a smile forced to hide how much he wishes Xichen would stay just a bit longer. How much Jin Guangyao longs to ask it of him.
“I hope I have helped,” Xichen says.
Jin Guangyao had not needed the help. He had found clever solutions to all of his problems, ones that would resolve the issue and further his own standing within the Jin Sect. Xichen’s suggestions do all of that, and they are kind. Some of the changes will take effort to implement. They will not be as easy as what Jin Guangyao has been inclined to do since his time with the Nie Sect, but it is also a means of its own.
And without thoughts of how to please his father guiding him, Jin Guangyao is struck with the force of how much he wants to please Xichen, how much he wants the kind eyes and soft smile and gentle regard to buoy him like it had when Xichen had brushed their fingers together that day in Cloud Recesses.
“A-Yao?” Xichen prompts when Jin Guanyao has not immediately responded with honeyed words.
He collects himself again quickly, bowing, savoring Xichen’s reflex to stop him. “Forgive me, er-ge. As you said, it is late.”
Xichen’s fingers curl slightly, almost imperceptibly, except for the way Jin Guangyao’s entire existence is oriented to them, then he withdraws and steps back towards the door. “Join me for tea tomorrow,” he says, and it is an offer and a request and a statement all in one, all easily disguised as one it is not.
“Of course, er-ge.”
+
The next morning, Jin Guangyao finds time with nobody else present but their father’s corpse to speak with Jin Zixuan alone.
“It is about a-Su,” he says, when asked.
“I see,” Zixuan says, nodding. His eyes are narrowing and there is a pinch to his already pinched expression that speaks of some amount of anger.
It is gauche to have this conversation in this place, but Jin Guangyao finds that sentiment is easy to squash. If Jin Guangshan did not want his children discussing these matters at his death, he should have put more effort into finding them, or less into making them.
“Qin Cangye killed Jin Guangshan because he is Qin Su’s father,” Jin Guangyao says bluntly.
Zixuan is able to hold multi-layered conversations, as would be expected of the Jin Sect Heir, but prefers things to be stated plainly, so Jin Guangyao does. Anything that will get his brother to like him.
“Qin Su is our sister.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Jin Zixuan says, “father had countless bastards. It is not my responsibility to care for them like stray dogs.” These are Madam Jin’s words, Jin Guangyao can see that, and for a moment Jin Guangyao wonders if it means Jin Zixuan has already spoken to her. “I am my father’s son. You are lucky to have been acknowledged.”
Jin Guangyao bites back the insult and masks it with a pleasant smile. Always pleasant. “Lady Jiang cares deeply for her brothers.”
At the mention of Jiang Yanli, Jin Zixuan’s eyes widen slightly in attention. Despite his inability to decide whether to put his feet in his mouth or use them to run away when he has embarrassed himself in front of Jiang Yanli, it is clear Jin Zixuan likes her.
“Lady Jiang would be sure to notice if you were kind to your own.” The idea has already been planted, but Jin Guangyao wants to be certain it is stuck. “If you were to acknowledge a-Su as your sister and treat her well, Lady Jiang would think highly of you for it.”
Jin Zixuan’s gaze narrows again, this time in thought. “What about Mo Xuanyu?”
The name catches Jin Guangyao off-guard. He has heard it before, in tandem with people gossiping about his own status as a bastard.
“There must be others, but he is the only one I know of. Shouldn’t I bring him into the sect too, if he is our brother?”
Despite Madam Jin’s orders not to mention it, rumors about Qin Su’s parentage has spread. Jiang Yanli is sure to hear them. But the rumors of Mo Xuanyu are old, tied only to the Second Lady Mo. Jiang Yanli is unlikely to hear of him.
“Mother will be displeased regardless. She has already made her opinion clear when I mentioned Qin Su yesterday. Mo Xuanyu will not make a difference.”
Jin Guangyao can’t help but let a tally fall onto the part of him that respects Zixuan. “Perhaps if you mention Lady Jiang’s perspective to your mother.”
Zixuan nods and doesn’t say anything in response to that. Pursuing the marriage right now is not appropriate. But once the mourning period is over, it will be a way to secure ties to the recovering Jiang Sect. A way to strengthen both sects.
“Thank you, a-Yao,” Zixuan says, and for once it does not sound like it pains him to say it.
+
Luo Qingyang, freshly returned from night hunts of her own, is tasked with bringing Mo Xuanyu back from a small village and smaller shed to the golden watery light of Koi Tower.
Qin Su is still locked in the dungeons with the rest of the disciples of Lanling Qin who had been present for the banquet. It is easy enough to move her from the stone cell to guest quarters.
Zixuan gives the orders. Zixuan makes his decision. Madam Jin is furious as soon as she learns of it, but she cannot do anything but shout and yell and take her anger out on Jin Guangyao. She cannot force Zixuan to change his mind. To do so would make him look weak.
+
That afternoon, Jin Guangyao finds himself in the gardens, seeking out Xichen for tea while navigating the paths with Nie Huiasang hanging from his side.
“But, san-ge,” Huaisang whines, his fingers digging into bruises on Jin Guangyao’s forearm where he had taken the brunt of Madam Jin’s anger this morning.
“A-Sang,” Jin Guangyao starts, but then is saved from having to politely navigate Huaisang’s latest complaint about Nie Mingjue and the bores of cultivation.
The two Twins of Jade are holding a tense conversation that appears to mostly consist of heavily weighted silence. But the concern in Xichen’s posture, the open way it begs for his brother to speak to him is clear. As is the guarded hesitance of the Second Jade.
As soon as Xichen’s eyes flick to where Jin Guangyao stands, Lan Wangji leaves.
Xichen’s eyes are sharp with worry and he lets out a long sigh through his nose.
To his side Jin Guangyao catches a rare moment of knowing calculation between the fluttering of Huaisang’s fan as he says, “Er-ge seems unusually worried about Hanguang-jun.”
The words carry, and Xichen’s peaceable mask slips back over his face with a smile. “Wangji merely had questions about our sect’s rules,” Xichen says mildly, then adds as if they are unrelated, “but of course I worry for my brother.”
Jin Guangyao is about to say something reassuring, to ease the worry on Xichen’s mind when Huaisang says, “Wei-xiong has never been good at existing within the rules.”
While true, Jin Guangyao is about ready to ask how Huaisang’s statement is relevant, when he sees the gentle nod Xichen gives, along with a pointed glance of warning that Huaisang appears content to ignore. When that happens, Xichen adds, “Da-ge was looking for you, a-Sang.”
And then Huaisang disappears into the walkways like a bird in foliage. But there is a smile spread across his face, eager to find his brother rather than a startled desire to flee from saber training. And then Jin Guangyao turns once again to Xichen who is staring into the distance with a small crease beneath his headband. Jin Guangyao is not the only one who has noticed the change in their didi since the end of the Sunshot Campaign.
The focus and attention of the Second Jade on Wei Wuxian is not hatred or anger. Hating Wei Wuxian would not make Hanguang-Jun chafe against the rules of Gusu Lan. The rules clearly state not to associate with evil. Hating demonic cultivation is easily accounted for by the rules. Hating those who scoff at convention and disrupt the harmony is something every cultivator is doing when it comes to Wei Wuxian.
Loving Wei Wuxian though.
Jin Guangyao allows a hint of amusement to play on his lips, enough to make it clear he holds no hatred for Wei Wuxian, holds no judgement. The perceived animosity between the two is something he has accounted for and used to his own ends, but nothing with intent of specifically hurting either man. “Is Hanguang-Jun often vexed by Wei-gongzi’s disrespect for the rules?”
“A-Yao,” Xichen starts, another gentle warning.
“I do not mean to gossip, er-ge,” Jin Guangyao says, allowing Xichen to guide him through the garden. There is a gentle raising of an eyebrow and Jin Guangyao glances aside. “Er-ge is noble to worry about his brother, but if there was something I could do to ease his mind, he need only ask.”
“Wangji will figure his own heart out in time,” Xichen says, in what is perhaps the clearest admission of how Lan Wangji feels that Jin Guangyao is going to get. “But I fear Wei-gongzi is making too many enemies for things to be resolved without hurt.”
Wei Wuxian’s actions during the crowd hunt on Phoenix Mountain had not helped matters.
His refusal to attend this banquet despite the Jiang Sect’s acceptance of the invitation had irked Jin Guangshan, who had wanted to use it to get the Stygian Tiger Seal. If he had been present, Jin Guangyao is certain he could have spun things so that Wei Wuxian had taken the blame instead of the Qin Sect. As it is, without anyone aware of where Wei Wuxian actually is, the task would be much harder. Naturally, still something Jin Guangyao is capable of if the right people are prodded and the right events set into motion.
But the quiet pensiveness of Xichen stops that line of thought.
Doing anything to Wei Wuxian would hurt Xichen. Lan Xichen’s happiness is his brother’s. And Lan Wangji’s happiness is Wei Wuxian.
If Jin Guangyao wants to save Xichen pain, he has to change the trajectory of Wei Wuxian’s relationship to the cultivation sects. As if it already knows Jin Guangyao will place Xichen’s happiness above his own desires, his mind supplies him with a half-dozen possibilities he can implement by dinner.
As Xichen guides him into the guest quarters, Jin Guangyao feels the things he has been contemplating gell into place. Knows his priorities are realigned with his new goals.
And now he is aware more than ever of the polite distance Xichen keeps and the ways he does not, of the lingering touches and glances that always stay within the realm of propriety, but would not exist for someone who did not welcome them.
Jin Guangyao has been selfish in allowing them. In allowing them to exist while confining them to nothing more than a question and quiet confession. Nothing that would have ever received an answer as Jin Guangyao focused on achieving his goals regardless of who it hurt.
So long as he was not hurt. So long as he got what he wanted.
And now.
Now he is tethering his happiness to Xichen’s. He is putting his heart in Xichen’s hands. And there is a thrill at the fear racing through his veins in how easily he can be destroyed.
Now, he has no reason to deny Xichen’s silent pining.
“Can er-ge forgive me?”
“What is there to forgive, a-Yao?”
“I have allowed er-ge to hope,” he says, and looks up from the cup of tea placed in front of him. He has the words for more of an explanation, will cut himself open and pull the vulnerable condemning words from his throat if Xichen requires it.
“I see,” Xichen says, his tone resigned, smile the one he reserves for masking whatever thoughts he has behind warmth. “The fault is not all yours. I had selfishly hoped I would be allowed this much.”
Jin Guangyao will not do Xichen the disservice of pretending the man had not known what he was doing. And yet Xichen is willing to ignore the same in him. But he can either choose to address that, or correct the conclusion Xichen has drawn about why Jin Guangyao has chosen to mention something they have both agreed to leave unacknowledged between them.
“Er-ge has perhaps misunderstood why I am asking his forgiveness.”
When he looks up, Xichen’s eyes bore into him. There is a fire there, banked embers that have been uncovered and breathed into life.
Jin Guangyao holds the ability to destroy Xichen. Jin Guangyao is aware of this, has been since he saw the first glance. Is why he allowed them to continue. Even now, the part of his mind that is constantly assessing and planning and scheming quietly reminds him that he can still use Xichen, that this will allow him to be manipulated even easier.
Everything he has already been doing.
And there is a moment where he can see how this all plays out, where he destroys them both. He has to trust Xichen will not.
“A-Yao,” Xichen says, and it is only the fact they are sitting at a table with tea between them that stops Jin Guangyao from bowing to prompt the other’s touch. Instead, it is Xichen who bows and Jin Guangyao who scrambles to stop him. “Forgive me, a-Yao. I have been selfish, too.”
“Er-ge is not selfish for hoping.”
Xichen smiles. It is one that says he disagrees but is too polite to say so when it would mean refusing kind words from another. There is another twitch of his lips as he pulls back, placing the distance between them again, then he says, “I was under the impression you were pursuing Qin Su.”
Jin Guangyao had made that clear. As well as the fact he did not wish to disrespect her by treating her like a playing piece. She had treated him with nothing but kindness, said nothing disparaging about him or his mother.
And now, they share a father. “Surely, er-ge has heard the rumors.”
There is a wrinkle between Xichen’s eyebrows and a frown that says he has despite the Lan rules against gossiping. “I would prefer to listen to you.”
Jin Guangyao can feel the words catch on his back teeth as he opens his mouth and hides his reluctance in a smile. Xichen holds the power to destroy him.
“A-Su is my sister,” is what he manages to force out past the clamping in his jaw. And with the damning words said, it releases the dam. With the information between them, he is seized by the urge to control the situation, to speak and limit the danger to himself. To invoke sympathy before it can be turned against him. “I did not know she was though, not until Sect Leader Qin murdered my father for raping his wife.” His eyes are locked onto Xichen, searching, watching to see how his words fall. “You know me, er-ge, I would never court my own sister.” There are already whispers of it, following the path the news of Qin Su being the daughter of Jin Guangshan. “I didn’t know.” He knows what they will say. Of course he would bed his sister. “I haven’t touched her.” He had wanted to do right by her. He hadn’t wanted to ruin his reputation, ruin his chances of bettering it. “I didn’t know.”
“A-yao.”
He’s crying. He’s not sure if the tears are real or fake. “Please, er-ge.”
“A-Yao,” Xichen says, voice firmer, firm enough Jin Guangyao stops and stares and realizes Xichen is holding him up with hands braced on the back of his arms. It is half a step from an embrace, closer than they have ever been, and then Jin Guangyao folds his arms over Xichen’s to grasp his sleeves. “I believe you.”
Jin Guangyao can feel himself smile. One of the honest ones of relief. He lets it show, no filter between his feelings and expression.
Then, Xichen reaches up and wipes a tear from Jin Guangyao’s face and he finds himself shudder with the tenderness. His heart is in Xichen’s hands, and there is no safer a place for it to rest.
“I do not mean to presume,” Xichen says, his face drifting close enough his lips brush Jin Guangyao’s bared forehead. “But if a-Yao would allow me to hope.”
“Only if er-ge would allow me to be selfish.”
There is a noise at the door, and Jin Guangyao is reminded of all his duties. He smooths out the white fabric of his mourning robes as a servant walks in, bowing deeply with greetings of, “Zewu-Jun, Lianfang-Zun.”