Chapter Text
“GAH!” Another shout comes muffled through the halls, “Help me!”
“Hang in there!” Someone calls and a group of monks scurry over to the source of the calls for help. This is a fairly new temple, but there have been enough donations that the senior-most monks have spiritual equipment, so they should be able to help the poor victim get free from the net that they’ve gotten tragically trapped inside.
With that being the case, Lan Sizhui doesn’t rush to the sound the way he did the first few times this happened in the morning. He simply continues looking down at his hesitant and wavering Compass of Evil and following it through the temple.
Walking next to him, Lan Jingyi mutters insults under his breath. “Do you think we should go talk to the Little Mistress?” He asks, his face pulled in distaste, “His clan’s nets are inconveniencing everyone! Who sets Deity-Binding Nets in a temple anyways? Putting aside how much of a bother it is, even the name is inauspicious! ‘Deity-Binding’. Seriously. Let’s go ask him to put them away before all the monks are caught, Sizhui!”
“Leave it,” Lan Sizhui sighs, shaking his head, “I tried speaking to him but he wasn’t convinced.”
“You mean that he shouted at you some and then ran off to his jiujiu,” Lan Jingyi scoffs. “When was this anyways? I don’t remember it!”
“You were speaking to the Monk Liu, I think. About the victims?” Lan Sizhui says, and Lan Jingyi nods understandingly. “And Jin-gongzi was observing the talismans around the worship room, just outside, so I stepped out to try and tell him that the nets do more to catch the monks and other cultivators than any monster. But…”
“No dice, huh.” Lan Jingyi huffs, “Why am I not surprised?”
Lan Sizhui shakes his head but doesn’t say anything more. Behind them, there is another sound of ropes snapping up and people yelping. Angry complaints soon follow it. Lan Sizhui sighs again.
“Never mind that now,” Lan Jingyi says, hurrying his steps, “I think the compass is pointing towards the entrance, let’s go check it out before it changes again!”
“Jingyi I don’t think it’s leading anywhere, ah, wait!” Lan Sizhui exclaims when Lan Jingyi directly grabs his sleeve and tows him along to his rapid stride. “People have been going around with their compasses all day, Jingyi! The compasses aren’t working!”
“How can it not work? Hanguang-wang gave me this Compass of Evil! He said to use it on nighthunts if I couldn’t find anything!” Lan Jingyi argues, still power-walking towards the entrance, “Hanguang-wang said that much, so obviously it has to work!”
From the other side of the hall, a pair of older-looking cultivators pass while arguing with each other. “Do you know who made this? The Yiling Patriarch, that Yiling Patriarch!” One of them says to the one next to him, “I’ve never heard of something that can interfere with his inventions!”
“We went where you said! Five times!” The other man says, exasperated, “Of course I know it’s that Wei Ying who made this. But does that mean nothing can interfere with it? It’s moving around randomly! Am I not even allowed to doubt the Yiling Patriarch now? It’s not as if his inventions are flawless!”
“I never said you can’t doubt him!” The man with the compass huffs, “I also never said that he was flawless. Where are you getting all of these words from? I’m just saying that since there’s no clues to be found, we might as well follow it! Unlike you, I don’t believe in my own dog luck to find this beast!”
“Dog luck?! I’ll show you some dog luck!”
The two cultivators start fighting, only to —a mere few moments later— be caught in a flash of golden ropes. They both squawk as a Deity-Binding Net bounces up with the two of them in its clutches, yelling loud curses at each other, the world, the net and its owner.
Lan Sizhui watches them as Lan Jingyi continues dragging him past the hall. “Do you know who they remind me of?” Lan Sizhui asks, presses his lips together to supress his laughter. “They really sounded like—"
“Don’t you dare!” Lan Jingyi interrupts him and breaks Rule 273 without a care, but the indignant glare he sends over his shoulder amuses Lan Sizhui enough that he lets it go unmentioned. “I know that look on your face,” Lan Jingyi says warningly, “You’re about to make fun of me!”
Lan Sizhui makes a perfectly innocent face. “Jingyi, didn’t you say that we should hurry? The Compass of Evil might change directions at any time.”
Lan Jingyi scrambles to look at his compass. “This isn’t over!” He tells Lan Sizhui as he hurries down the hall, pulling him along. “I’ll make you say sorry right away when we get the monster!”
Laughing silently, Lan Sizhui follows him.
The Dancing Goddess Temple is a large, sprawling structure near the top of Dafan Mountain, hidden behind a deep forest and unwieldy rocks. Like many other temples of its kind, it’s compromised of two compounds; one holding the main hall where the god of the temple resides, and the other leading to a courtyard of smaller rooms, each for an important god that could also be worshipped in other temples. Each contain several rooms, halls and even a small but well-equipped library.
Unlike other temples of its kind, the Dancing Goddess Temple was built mainly around the deep mountain cave that hosts its main god, a newly deified natural goddess statue, and thus the main hall is at the very back of the temple, right at the mountain wall. Since Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi were just there, there are quite a few winding hallways that they have to rush through to get to the entrance.
As they go, Lan Jingyi and his compass lead them unerringly towards the entrance courtyard.
“I think the beast is trying to run away!” Lan Jingyi claims with great confidence, “Let’s go catch it before it leaves!”
“Jingyi why would a monster escape through the front door?” Lan Sizhui asks, “That makes no sense!”
On the way, however, they bump into many other cultivators that are following their own compasses, seemingly of the same mind as Lan Jingyi. “Don’t let it run away!” A cultivator in light pink robes and a peach-coloured veil exclaims, dragging a group of her martial siblings as she goes.
When she hits Lan Sizhui’s shoulder on the way, she mumbles a vague excuse me before she moves to continue on. Then her gaze lands briefly on Lan Sizhui’s robes and forehead, and his face, and she freezes in place. “W-Wangzi!” She exclaims, bowing rapidly, “My apologies, I— I didn’t notice His Highness was there!”
“It’s alright, no need to bow,” Lan Sizhui says with a soft smile, feeling a little awkward at the whole subservience as he always does, “Zhao-er-guniang, right? How are you? I heard you killed a Bat King in Jiangnan last month, congratulations!”
“Oh— um, yes! I’m well, thank you! It was with the help of my shimei, we worked very hard to bait it and trap it, it took us a long time…” Zhao-er-guniang’s voice peters out into shy silence while the juniors in light pink behind her watch her bashful stance with bewildered, betrayed eyes. “A-anyways, I shouldn’t keep Wangzi and Lan-gongzi from their hunt. Please, take the lead. Us juniors of the Zhao Earldom will follow.”
Before Lan Sizhui can say the customary polite refusals, Lan Jingyi pushes at his shoulder and herds him down the hall. “Thank you, Zhao-guniang! Wangzi really appreciates you! Now let’s go before the monster’s gone!” He says cheerfully, “Hurry up Sizhui!”
Lan Sizhui barely manages to bow properly to Zhao-er-guniang before he’s taken away. Lan Jingyi runs so fast that within a few seconds they’re already at the front doors of the temple, and Zhao-er-guniang and her martial siblings are left far behind. “We’re almost at the entrance courtyard!” Lan Jingyi beams.
As if called by his words, the grand main doors of the temple appear in front of them. There is a thin crowd of cultivators passing through it to the courtyard outside, all watching their Compasses of Evil as they go. When Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi approach, most of them step aside to allow them to pass, bowing politely.
Past the doors, the wide square of the entrance courtyard greets them with the cheerful voices of birds and rustling leaves in the wind. The courtyard is paved with gleaming stones and tall trees lean over the walls encircling it to droop their branches inside. Lan Jingyi strays easily from the main path and takes a more direct shortcut according to the direction of the compass, walking past fish ponds and potted flower bushes.
“Where are we going?” Lan Sizhui asks as he follows him.
“I think it’s at the main gates,” Lan Jingyi replies excitedly, “Let’s beat Little Mistress so hard that he can’t argue that it was a draw this time!”
“Technically, it was a team effort, which makes it a draw,” Lan Sizhui tries to say, but Lan Jingyi makes a derisive sound.
“Just because it’s a team effort, it doesn’t mean the whole team gave the same effort!” He says, “I definitely killed more cave demons than him! Ah, ah, don’t argue with me I know I’m right!”
Lan Sizhui doesn’t argue with him because honestly, he also thinks Lan Jingyi is right.
When they finally reach the main gates, there is a crowd of cultivators congregated around it with their swords drawn. The gates are painted a vibrant red for good fortune, and under the bright midday sun, the myriad colours of the cultivators bustling in front of it looks very cheerful; less like a nighthunt and more like a festival. Half-hidden by the crowd, Lan Sizhui can see a large carriage with four horses coming to a stand just behind the open gates. The horses are all pure white, shaking their heads and huffing as they wait to pull the carriage out of the way.
“Hey, isn’t that..?” Lan Jingyi mutters, for once forgetting his compass, and he jogs to get to the front of the crowd. Lan Sizhui also hurries.
Four horses, all white. Only the imperial family are allowed to use white horses. Six horses would be the emperor. With four, it can only be an imperial prince— and there is only one prince in the Empire.
As expected, when Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui manage to make their way to the front of the crowd, standing in front of the carriage in all of his ostentatious white robes and his regal hair crown is Hanguang-jun. He has one hand behind his back, the other reaching up into the carriage to help someone else down. Taking that hand and stepping down, on the other hand, is a tall young man in silk black and red robes, a black veil, with his hair half-pulled up tastefully. Except— there is a very, very high number of hairsticks in it.
“Uh, Sizhui…” Lan Jingyi mutters to him from the corner of his lips. There is a nervous, vaguely nauseous expression on his face, “Is it just me or… is Senior Mo wearing, like, three times as many hairsticks now?”
Lan Sizhui tries very hard not to think of the events that passed just yesterday, of the begging and the screams and Senior Mo’s cheerful, bloodstained smile and Senior Mo’s squelching, bloody footsteps. “Jingyi, I think…” He whispers, “I think— I think that it’s just you.”
Lan Jingyi nods in fervent agreement. “Yes, yes, you’re right, my mistake.”
Now that Senior Mo has stepped down from the carriage, Hanguang-wang and Senior Mo are both standing side by side, facing the crowd of cultivators, most of whom are stuck in confused incomprehension. They apparently haven’t yet understood how the monster they were awaiting suddenly turned into the Crown Prince and his concubine. There is a large number of them who still have their swords pointed towards Hanguang-wang and Senior Mo.
Senior Mo’s face is hazy and nondescript behind the veil, but faint surprise is still visible on it as he looks at the crowd. After a moment, the surprise morphs into stifled amusement and he leans over Hanguang-wang’s shoulder to whisper something into his ear.
Whatever he says, Hanguang-wang’s face immediately darkens. “Disrespectful,” He growls at the crowd, catapulting them back to their senses.
“Our— our apologies, Hanguang-wang!!” A few cry as they all scramble to sheathe their swords and bow at the same time, managing to do neither in the amount of time that they could have done both if they did them in turn. “Please forgive us!”
Hanguang-wang says nothing, his eyes flinty and brows still pulled lower than normal. Lan Sizhui is worried for a moment that he’s going to want to punish the cultivators, but before Hanguang-wang can say anything, a monk comes hurrying across the courtyard.
“So it is the Esteemed Crown Prince!” The monk says with a wide smile, bowing to Hanguang-wang, “Please, please, come on in. We weren’t informed our benefactor would be visiting, or we would have prepared a welcome!”
“Do the imperial guards remain?” Hanguang-wang asks, his attention now diverted from the crowd of very nervous cultivators.
“Thanks to esteemed benefactor’s benevolence in clearing our names, the guards keeping us under watch have all left,” The monk replies, his smile growing even wider as he bows again. He gestures to the side some ways away from the crowd. “Is Hanguang-wang also participating in chasing the evil from our temple? Shall I tell you about what happened?”
Hanguang-wang glances slightly towards Senior Mo in what seems to be a question, though Lan Sizhui cannot tell what exactly it might be. Senior Mo nods in response. “Wangye,” He murmurs, bowing properly, before he walks towards Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi.
The crowd of cultivators step back to let him pass, all of them watching him with expressions of great wonder and curiosity.
When he comes up to them, Senior Mo doesn’t slow down. He bows his head to Lan Sizhui, as proper as can be, before he quietly says “Come along,” and continues walking past them.
Lan Sizhui meets Lan Jingyi’s eyes. They both shrug and follow after Senior Mo.
Senior Mo leads them away from the open and crowded gate and into the reaches of a more secluded bamboo garden nearby. Under the dappled sunlight of the bamboo leaves, the path curves towards the temple. There are talismans written in vibrant red cinnabar on bright yellow paper, fluttering in the air, all of them hung carefully on branches.
“Alright, this is good enough,” Senior Mo says, turning towards them and stopping. It’s strange to be unable to see most of his expressions even when he relaxes from the usual rigid properness of his posture outside to the more cheerful bearing he adopts when it’s just them or Hanguang-wang.
“Senior Mo?” Lan Jingyi asks, as always the first to break under curiosity, “Why did you and Hanguang-wang follow us? Hanguang-wang has only just gotten better! Why would you let him come here?”
Senior Mo’s amusement at that is apparent. “Jingyi,” He says, “I don’t let your Hanguang-wang do anything. Do remember that I’m his servant and not the other way around.”
“But— but the poison,” Lan Jingyi protests, “Will it be fine? You know what, I think we should go back. Why did you take us so far away anyways? What if something happens! There is a nighthunt occuring here!”
“Right well, there isn’t anymore,” Senior Mo says, putting one hand on his hip and gesturing with the other. “Your Hanguang-wang is speaking to the monks now, and I’m here to ask you kids to help collect all the other juniors. The nighthunt is cancelled!”
Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi both freeze.
“Wait,” Lan Sizhui finds himself blurting out, “But— why?”
Senior Mo pauses for a moment, his bearing still cheerful, silently observing them. Lan Sizhui straightens up on some unearthed instinct and he senses Lan Jingyi do the same next to him.
“In fact,” Senior Mo says with the utmost seriousness, voice sombre, “It’s because…”
“Because..?”
Senior Mo leans in close to whisper, “It’s because I missed my children!”
“…”
“…Senior Mo!”
Senior Mo cackles. “Ah but your faces!”
“Please stop being crazy for one second!” Lan Jingyi complains, “You brought Hanguang-wang here for such a stupid reason? You can’t cancel an official nighthunt just because you want to! Nobody’s going to listen to that!”
“Aiyo, it was a joke, no need to yell so much,” Senior Mo shakes his head sadly, as if he has been subjected to grave injustice, “There is an actual reason you know? That’s why I brought you two somewhere so isolated.”
Lan Sizhui exchanges a curious glance with Lan Jingyi.
“You know your Hanguang-wang and I have been investigating those demonic limbs,” Senior Mo says, and when they nod, he continues on with; “We think the reason the junior nighthunt was changed to this temple has something to do with that case. Someone might have meddled in, so as to say. This isn’t a nighthunt suitable for noble young kids learning politics and management while cultivating on the side for sport.”
“Even— even so, there is no reason for Hanguang-wang to come personally!” Lan Jingyi protests, “Why didn’t you just send someone?”
“There are so many nobles here,” Senior Mo says, shaking his head, “Who would listen if some servant told them that the nighthunt was cancelled just because Hanguang-wang wanted it to be? We can only bet on people being too scared of his reputation to argue with him.”
“But you could have just had the Ministry of Ceremonies cancel the nighthunt…” Lan Jingyi grumbles, “If the Emperor hears what you said, the nighthunt can be cancelled right away!”
“Can it?” Senior Mo asks softly.
Lan Sizhui hesitantly puts a hand on Lan Jingyi’s arm, stalling his obvious indignation at that from exploding. “Is there… any reason why it can’t?” He asks instead.
“Well, not really I suppose.” Senior Mo shrugs, and then he completely ignores Lan Jingyi’s angry “HEY!” to continue saying, “But whoever managed to change the destination of the Imperial Palace’s carefully arranged juniors’ hunt… They should at least be able to stall the emperor’s order long enough that our report will prove useless after all. Are you willing to bet that no one will end up losing their souls while unsupervised? From what I’ve learned of this case, I don’t think there will be some conspicuous but weak soul-eating beast to battle against before your soul is slurped up! Hope that wasn’t what you were expecting it to be?”
Lan Sizhui swallows tightly. That’s exactly what they were all expecting. “…right.”
“But not to worry! That’s exactly where your Hanguang-wang and I come in!” Senior Mo declares grandly, making a dramatic bowing gesture. “We were already planning on dealing with this temple, so the victims have all been interviewed and the reports packed up. After Wangye speaks to the monks and we use his authority as the Crown Prince to make everyone leave, a horde of imperial cultivators will investigate this place from top to bottom. Meanwhile, Wangye and I can handle the demonic limbs in secret. It’s foolproof!”
“You aren’t going to tell everyone why they have to leave, Senior Mo?” Lan Sizhui asks.
“Tell them what, that we think that the nighthunt is too hard for them? They’ll only get angry. And if we say that someone in the Imperial Court is plotting against them, heh!” Senior Mo laughs, “We don’t even have any real proof, only a strong hunch and some circumstantial evidence. Do you think we can just blindly go around throwing accusations, even with Wangye’s name?”
“That’s true, Sizhui,” Lan Jingyi says, displeased, “You know how the Minister of Justice is. He really hates Hanguang-wang. If he hears that Hanguang-wang wants to accuse someone, he’ll be the first to shout ‘insubstantial evidence’!”
“He doesn’t hate Father. He just…” Lan Sizhui tries awkwardly but he trails off when he can’t find anything to say. There is a moment of silence before Lan Jingyi huffs.
“Now now Sizhui, don’t strain yourself,” Lan Jingyi teases, “Anyways it’s clearly mutual. What else would you call those silent stare downs? How many times have we been scolded by Minister Jiang for speaking out of turn just to cover up the fact Hanguang-wang refuses to say one word in his direction that isn’t an insult?”
Lan Sizhui sighs. If he tries to argue any further, he’ll only prove that Lan Jingyi is right. After all, even he can’t force himself to say that Hanguang-wang and the Duke of Yunmeng don’t dislike each other. “Never mind,” he says as he gives up. He turns to Senior Mo, who has been strangely silent this past minute, and asks, “What can we do, Senior? How can we help?”
“Huh?” Senior Mo startles before he shakes his head and answers Lan Sizhui’s question, “No, no don’t be ridiculous. What help? You two are going back to the Silent Wing of course!”
“What?!” Lan Jingyi asks, “Senior Mo! We can’t go back to the Silent Wing!”
“Oh?” Senior Mo lets out in shock. “That’s surprising! Don’t tell me Wangye and I were too late and both of you got your legs broken by some low-level roadside ghoul? You can’t go all the way to the Imperial Palace?”
“No— that’s not— Senior Mo we don’t want to just leave,” Lan Sizhui says, trying to make himself sound both sincere, and like a mature and responsible young cultivator who can be entrusted with an important mission, “We could be of help! There are some junior cultivators of the imperial clan here that are sensible—”
“He means that they listen to every word he says.”
“—and I think the other nobles would be more agreeable if we had more people from the imperial family backing our case. Jingyi and I are somewhat close with the Lan juniors, so they would probably help us convince all the nobles and rogue cultivators if I asked—”
“He means that they idolise him and would be overjoyed to kiss dirt and let him step on them if he asked.”
“Jingyi!” Lan Sizhui scolds, cheeks burning. There goes his attempt at sounding mature and responsible. Now Senior Mo is never going to take them seriously.
“I’m just saying it as it is!” Lan Jingyi defends himself.
“Alright, alright, stop!” Senior Mo says, waving his hands at them, “I don’t mind you two staying to help round everyone up, but you’ll have to see if Wangye agrees to it. Don’t make me ask him.”
Lan Sizhui beams at the same time Lan Jingyi jumps in excitement, “Thank you Senior Mo!”
“Why are you thanking me? Did I do anything for you two? I’m telling you, don’t suck up to me if you’re looking for a favour, go find your Hanguang-wang instead,” Senior Mo scoffs, “I’m not the one—”
Senior Mo cuts off just in time to tilt his head to the side, and before Lan Sizhui’s widened eyes, an arrow whizzes past his face and hits a bamboo behind him with a loud thwank. One of the talismans hanging from the bamboo is pierced through, fluttering limply under the arrow.
“Huh,” Senior Mo says, unimpressed, as one side of his black veil slits open and reveals the side of his face and jaw.
“I’m onto you, demonic creature!!” A very familiar voice crows excitedly, followed by footsteps rushing through the bamboo towards them. At the sound of him, Lan Jingyi almost instinctually makes a face.
“Gongzi! Jin-gongzi!” Someone cries as they run after the first voice, “My compass— please return my compass!”
“Be quiet! Can’t you see that I’m hunting down the creature?! I think I shot it! When I receive the prize for first place, I’ll make sure to mention you to my uncle!” Jin-gongzi says impatiently, before yelling, “Fairy! Go catch it!”
There is an answering bark.
Suddenly, Senior Mo lets out a breathy, terrified sound and Lan Sizhui’s head snaps towards him just in time to see how his entire body locks up in fear, turning stiff from his feet up to his shoulders. Lan Sizhui opens his mouth to say something, taking a step forward, but Jin-gongzi’s spiritual dog bursts out of the bushes before he can do so.
The dog leaps straight at Senior Mo.
“A— AAAAAAAH!” Senior Mo screams, his voice high and hoarse as if he’s being tortured, stumbling back with his hands covering his throat. The dog is in the air, aiming right for Senior Mo’s face, jaws wide open with gleaming sharp fangs. Lan Sizhui instinctually rushes forward but notices just in time that there is not nearly enough time to tackle the dog.
“Stop! Jin-gongzi—” Lan Sizhui changes his mind halfway through and yells, “FAIRY, DOWN!”
Miraculously, the dog twists in the air. It lands on the grass on four paws with a thump. Perhaps it, too, has realised that what it was about to attack isn’t exactly the monster that its master ordered it to catch.
Lan Sizhui’s breathing fast with the shock of the situation, struck silly, so Lan Jingyi runs over to stand between the dog and Senior Mo’s trembling body. He throws indignant glares at the dog as he gently ushers Senior Mo back. Remembering himself, Lan Sizhui also runs towards them.
“Senior Mo, are you alright?” Lan Sizhui asks anxiously, supporting Senior Mo with a hand on his elbow, “Fairy is a spiritual dog, it wouldn’t just attack people. I’m sure this is a misunderstanding.”
“I know, I know, I know,” Senior Mo says in this hitching, breathy voice that Lan Sizhui has never heard from him. With his hand touching Senior Mo’s elbow, Lan Sizhui can feel how his entire body is being wracked with shivers. “Ahaha, this— this is embarrassing! I kind of dislike dogs, you see, so if you could— keep that thing away from me!”
“Of course, Senior Mo!” Lan Jingyi says boisterously, “We’ll protect you!”
Senior Mo’s laugh this time is more real. “My heroes,” He chuckles. When the dog makes a quiet whuff, he jumps and immediately hides fully behind Lan Jingyi, peeking out from behind his shoulder. “Evil creature! Who even brings a dog to a nighthunt!”
“Hey!” Jin-gongzi pushes past the talismans and the bamboo with a furious expression on his face, shaking off the leaves on his head. He’s followed hurriedly by a group of Jin Clan juniors and a few rogue cultivators distinguishable by their cheaper hunting robes and their veiled hats.
One of the rogue cultivators, in particular, is watching the Compass of Evil in Jin-gongzi’s hand with undisguised worry as if it’s his beloved child being manhandled by a careless young master.
“Do you have a problem with Fairy?!” Jin-gongzi demands, throwing the Compass of Evil in his hand to the side as he squares off against Senior Mo, and the rogue cultivator scrambles after the compass. “She’s my companion! Who do you think you are, insulting her!”
“I do have a problem!” Senior Mo says, just as vehement, “It’s being a nuisance! It almost killed me! What can it even do other than scaring poor little people like me?! Just take it away!”
Jin-gongzi puffs up even more. Lan Sizhui looks towards Lan Jingyi with exasperation as Jin-gongzi and Senior Mo argue over his shoulder, but Lan Jingyi looks way too excited about the fight to be in any way sympathetic of Lan Sizhui. The group of cultivators behind Jin-gongzi, on the other hand, are dithering, awkward and nervous.
“She can do way more than some cowardly weird man in a veil like you!” Jin-gongzi declares and Lan Sizhui winces at the disrespect.
Senior Mo makes an angry sound. “So rude!” He admonishes, still hidden behind Lan Jingyi, “Didn’t your mother teach you any manners? Is that anything you can call people?”
Lan Sizhui winces again, more deeply.
Jin-gongzi has truly gone mad this time. He draws his sword in a single motion and brandishes it at Senior Mo, yelling, “YOU—!! Come out and duel me if you dare!”
“I won’t! I refuse!” Senior Mo says very confidently, “I’m not even a cultivator but you want to duel me? The Jin Clan is getting more and more outrageous these days! Are you seriously looking to beat up a nobleman’s concubine?!”
Lan Sizhui keeps silent, knowing that Senior Mo could probably strike Jin-gongzi down in a single snap of his fingers if he really wanted to.
“What concubine! Which cutsleeve nobleman took you as a concubine?!” Jin-gongzi yells, waving his sword again, but he notably doesn’t try to attack Senior Mo now that he’s learned that he’s a non-cultivator. Instead he demands; “Tell him to come out, then! I’ll make him answer for your words!”
There is a momentary silence. “Uhm, Jin-gongzi,” Lan Sizhui tries awkwardly, and Jin-gongzi startles as if he has only just noticed who the two white-robed people standing between him and Senior Mo are. “You haven’t heard of Senior Mo yet?”
“Lan Sizhui?!” Jin-gongzi asks, then he spots Lan Jingyi’s obviously protective stance in front of Senior Mo and exclaims, “Wait, why are you covering for this damned cutsleeve?! Do you know him or something? If you know him, have his master come out and give me an account!”
“That’s probably… not a very good idea, since that person is,” Lan Sizhui tries again, but Jin-gongzi is already not listening to him.
“It’s what I deserve!” Jin-gongzi declares, brimming with self-righteous anger, and he points at Senior Mo, “I was insulted by this concubine! I want an explanation from whichever household he belongs to!”
Lan Jingyi laughs loudly. “Good luck with that Little Mistress!” He says, to Jin-gongzi’s obvious annoyance, “Do you even know who Senior Mo is? You’re going to regret those words so much later!”
“Hmph,” Jin-gongzi harrumphs, “What regret? No matter who his master is, can he compare to my jiujiu? When Jiujiu hears what this cutsleeve said to me, he’s going to be the one who regrets!”
“Why are you telling your jiujiu instead of your parents?” Senior Mo huffs, clearly still irritated with Jin-gongzi and also clearly unaware of the fact that Jin-gongzi’s parents have been dead for more than a decade now. “Who’s your jiujiu anyways? What can he do to me?”
“Um, Senior Mo—”
There is a rustle, and then a low, poisonous voice. “I’m his jiujiu. What of it?”
Senior Mo freezes painfully. Lan Sizhui seems to hear him whisper something, but it’s so tiny under his breath that it might even have been a hallucination.
But at the sound of that poisonous voice, the sun-dappled clearing falls into a silence so chilly that Lan Sizhui can’t help but shiver for a moment. With the sound of leaves crunching underfoot, Duke Jiang walks out of the encircling bamboo. His infamous spiritual ring is already sparking on his finger before he stares directly at Senior Mo’s veiled face.
“Minister Jiang!” One of the Jin cultivators cries out, and the rest of them hurriedly echo him, bowing down. Duke Jiang doesn’t answer them, walking past the group of Jin-gongzi’s flunkies without pulling his narrowed eyes away from Senior Mo. On the way past, he grabs the Compass of Evil from that same rogue cultivators’ hand. The rogue cultivator’s sputtered protests at that go unheard.
“So this is the Mo Xuanyu I’ve been hearing so much about. The new pet of our oh so pure crown prince,” Duke Jiang murmurs. The curl of his lips hint at a sneer, but remain too tightly pressed together to fully become one. Jin-gongzi, on the other hand, has gone sheet white since the moment he heard the words ‘crown prince’.
Lan Sizhui glances back at Senior Mo, but his expression is impossible to pin down underneath the faint gauze of his veil. “…Minister Jiang,” he says quietly, bowing just the right amount.
“Minister Jiang,” Lan Sizhui echoes, dipping his head down then up, while next to him Lan Jingyi bows. “It’s… been a long time.”
“Lan-wangzi,” Duke Jiang acknowledges as he stalks through the clearing and comes to a stop in front of Lan Jingyi, still eyeing Senior Mo. “So tell me then…” Duke Jiang raises the Compass of Evil in his hand. When he tips it towards them, Lan Sizhui sees that the needle is pointing directly towards Senior Mo. “Who allowed the crown prince to take a demonic cultivator as concubine?”
“That’s not true!” Lan Jingyi lies immediately, a knee-jerk response to protect, and Lan Sizhui selectively chooses the forget about the rules for a few minutes just the way Hanguang-wang taught him. “Who said that Senior Mo’s a demonic cultivator? That’s slander!”
“Minister Jiang, with all due respect,” Lan Sizhui adds to that, his palms sweating behind the hems of his sleeves, “His Imperial Majesty has already met with and accepted Senior Mo. Surely that should be enough proof of Senior Mo’s innocence?”
“And yet, Wangzi,” Duke Jiang growls, “It is not. If he’s not a demonic cultivator, why is he wearing those colours? If he’s not a demonic cultivator, why is carrying around something maleficent enough that this compass can pick up on it?!”
“This…” Lan Sizhui flounders.
“As the Minister of Justice, I have every right to apprehend and interrogate any suspicious individual inside the capital,” Duke Jiang declares, and he harrumphs, “I will especially never let off any demonic cultivator that I find.”
“Minister Jiang!” Lan Sizhui protests, “Father would never allow an evildoer or criminal into his household! Shouldn’t we at least consult the Emperor on this?”
“Wangzi, it’s okay,” Senior Mo whispers, turning his face towards Lan Sizhui to say quietly, “There’s no need for you to argue with—”
“Take that veil off!”
Another shocked silence ensues Duke Jiang’s suddenly enraged yell. When Lan Sizhui snaps his face towards him, Duke Jiang’s eyes are wide, fixated on Senior Mo. His spiritual ring is now emitting purple sparks all the way to his shoulder. Lan Sizhui follows his shocked gaze to the side of Senior Mo’s face that got revealed when he turned towards Lan Sizhui, where the slit in the veil is showing the left of his face.
“Jiujiu, that’s Hanguang-wang’s concubine…” Jin-gongzi awkwardly tries to stop Duke Jiang. He takes a step forward but Duke Jiang pushes him back behind himself.
“Be quiet, Jin Ling,” Duke Jiang hisses before glaring at Senior Mo and transforming his ring into a long whip glimmering in purple with a flick of his hand, “Take that veil off. Right, fucking, now!”
“Minister… Minister, that’s really inappropriate..!” One of the flunkies whispers towards Duke Jiang with her arms waving as if to diffuse the situation.
However, Duke Jiang seems to be in no mood to be diffused. “All of you shut the fuck up!” He snarls, taking another step forward with his whip slithering along, and he says in a threateningly soft voice, “You still aren’t taking the veil off, Mo Xuanyu? Do you want to see if I can rip that thing off or not?”
Lan Sizhui hears Senior Mo take a deep breath. Let it out.
“Responding to Minister Jiang,” Senior Mo says. He bows, long sleeves clasped together, all of him stiff in rule-abiding perfection. Lan Sizhui has never seen him this absolutely proper— not even in front of the emperor himself. He knows on some level that Senior Mo’s quietness and propriety when in front of outsiders is a form of disguise, a certain defence against people’s curiosity, but to see him holding that shield so harshly close to himself is viscerally jarring. “Respectfully, this prince-concubine is not at the liberty to take it off without permission.”
At Senior Mo’s response, though, something akin to a smile blooms on Duke Jiang’s face. He laughs, but it’s a sound deliberately made ugly, like even Duke Jiang knows that this isn’t how a human being should laugh.
Without warning, he snaps his arm and the purple whip strikes across the clearing, flying straight towards Senior Mo’s face.
“Senior Mo, careful!” Lan Jingyi yells from next to Lan Sizhui, unsheathing his sword in a flash to hold it in front of Senior Mo.
One moment, the whip is soaring in the air. The next, the tip of it is nearly touching Senior Mo’s veil.
Another moment, and a pure white flash slams to the whip.
The whip rebounds like a snake rearing back, and the white sword also bounces back from it. It twirls in the air and comes to a stop in front of Lan Jingyi and Senior Mo, flying protectively between them and Duke Jiang, pointed right at Duke Jiang’s jugular. It doesn’t take long for Lan Sizhui to recognise the sword, and he is suddenly bowled over by the same desperate relief that he hears in Lan Jingyi’s voice when Lan Jingyi cries out: “Hanguang-wang!”
Hanguang-wang walks past the bamboo with a flutter of the yellow talismans hanging there. He doesn’t stop until he is standing between the three of them and Duke Jiang. There is another flutter, and two monks scramble after Hanguang-wang, clearly worried. They must have all heard Lan Jingyi’s scream. Lan Sizhui has never before been so grateful for how loud Lan Jingyi always is.
Hanguang-wang parts his lips, which look thinned pale, twisted at their corners. Very, very quietly, he says; “…Jiang Wanyin.”
Lan Sizhui startles at how he sounds— like nothing Lan Sizhui has heard before, his voice so low that it’s nearly inhuman, more a tremor of bedrock than words. Hanguang-wang calls Bichen to his hand, held out in the most vicious of fighting stances, and shockingly, Duke Jiang starts laughing again. This time, it’s not possible to mistake it as anything but mocking.
“Jiujiu?” Jin-gongzi asks, nervous.
“And if it isn’t Hanguang-wang, come to protect his concubine!” Duke Jiang says. And Lan Sizhui is struck with the realization that Duke Jiang is definitely, doubtlessly misunderstanding something, because his expression as he glances —briefly— at Senior Mo is one mixed between fury, pity and disgust. “Never mind, I don’t need to see any more. I think I know very well what the rest of his face looks like! Don’t you think so, Hanguang-wang?”
Hanguang-wang keeps silent, not lifting his glare off of Duke Jiang. Usually, this would be Lan Sizhui’s turn to speak up and answer Duke Jiang with some polite courtesy, but he doesn’t think this is the sort of conversation where he is allowed to say anything. He looks over at Senior Mo, but Senior Mo is also completely silent, standing half a step behind Hanguang-wang with his head lowered.
Lan Sizhui knows that that’s the proper, decorous response for a concubine, to not speak unless spoken to, but it just doesn’t seem right with Senior Mo. It just doesn’t sit well with Lan Sizhui when it’s Senior Mo.
Meanwhile, Duke Jiang is looking at Hanguang-wang with that mocking, plastered smile still twitching on his face. “I am learning things that I really didn’t want to know about you today, huh, Hanguang-wang? Just when I thought you couldn’t get any worse!”
Senior Mo continues standing stone-still while Duke Jiang looks over him, eyeing Senior Mo as if judging a particularly offensive vase.
“What a joke,” Duke Jiang scoffs, “What a damn joke! Playing house with a lookalike that you make act all obedient and proper, is it fun for you? Hah! In life, you couldn’t beat the rules into him, so you’re going to play at it after his death? How old is Mo Xuanyu even, huh? Do you get off on—”
At the very last second, Duke Jiang’s gaze flickers to Lan Sizhui who’s standing with his lips tightly pressed, and he closes his mouth with a harrumph.
“Whatever. You three,” Duke Jiang addresses three guards wearing Jiang purple and gestures at Mo Xuanyu, “Apprehend this suspect and take him to the palace dungeons to be judged.”
Lan Sizhui startles. “Minister Jiang!” He protests, stepping forward only to be blocked by Hanguang-wang, “You can’t do that!”
“You will find that I, the Minister of Justice, can indeed judge anyone I like,” Duke Jiang declares, waving his hand at the guards who bow and advance towards them.
Next to Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi’s hand falls to his sword. Jin-gongzi nervously grasps his bow. Hanguang-wang hasn’t once sheathed Bichen and still has it pointed threateningly forward. The tension is so heavy that Lan Sizhui can feel it on his skin like lightning sparks, like the crack of Duke Jiang’s whip.
“N-noble cultivators,” One of the monks that followed after Hanguang-wang hurries forward, raising his hands to gesture both sides to calm down. “Please, you mustn’t fight in the presence of our venerated goddess! This is a monastery! A-and, didn’t Esteemed Crown Prince Lan say that this hunt was to be cancelled and everyone was to leave? Please, if you are to shed blood, wait until you have left the monastery!”
“Nighthunt cancelled?” Duke Jiang hisses, “Nighthunt cancelled? So the mighty crown prince can even cancel a nighthunt arranged by the Ministry of Rites just because he wanted to! Or are there any actual reasons? Hm?”
“You are not qualified to know,” Hanguang-wang says, irritable. He still hasn’t sheathed back his sword.
“Oh, my greatest apologies! How dare I question the illustrious Hanguang-wang who is so beloved by the common people!” Duke Jiang declares, “Isn’t the only reason you’re so loved because you abandoned your duties to gallivant around the country? You still dare mess with the Empire’s administration? A crown prince who hasn’t attended court once in more than a decade, can he even still be the heir to the empire?!”
Jin-gongzi sucks in a breath at that. “Jiujiu!” He hisses, tugging at Duke Jiang’s sleeve, “Jiujiu get a hold of yourself! You can’t say that! That’s— questioning the Emperor!”
“Stay out of it, A-Ling,” Duke Jiang hisses back, but he does stop laying down unreasonable accusations, so Lan Sizhui sends a thankful look towards Jin-gongzi. “Hanguang-wang’s reputation might scare away the bootlickers, but we will be staying here for the official nighthunt! If you want to leave, leave, but if you try to chase anyone away and disorganise this nighthunt on a flimsy whim, then you’ll find the Ministry of Justice standing before you! Jin Ling can hunt the soul eating beast without your people interrupting. Right, Jin Ling?”
“Um, yes!” Jin-gongzi hurries to agree.
“Duke Jiang..!” Lan Sizhui speaks up. He swallows deeply when a dozen intense gazes fall upon him. “Hanguang-wang says that… that it’s probably not a soul eating beast but something more dangerous. Shouldn’t we leave this to the… imperial cultivators..?”
“And the son is still speaking for the father,” Duke Jiang barks out a laugh, before saying, “So what if it’s not a soul eating beast? Whether it’s a herd of hungry ghosts or a demonic cultivator, if they can’t handle it, then there is still me standing here! If your Hanguang-wang is too busy to stay, he’s free to pull you two out of the nighthunt.”
Lan Sizhui sees how, behind Duke Jiang, Jin-gongzi’s face pales at the words ‘hungry ghosts’ and ‘demonic cultivator’ before he firms his shoulders and clutches his bow tight. His face is set in determination.
That’s… probably not going to end very well.
“No answer. Why am I not surprised,” Duke Jiang scoffs, turning around to leave the clearing, “We’ll return to the subject of Mo Xuanyu later,” He declares over his shoulder, rather dramatically. Lan Sizhui, at least, keenly feels the threat.
Unfortunately for his respectability, though, Duke Jiang goes three steps before he realises that no one is following him.
He turns back and marches up to Jin-gongzi, grabbing him by the scruff of his robes. “Come on A-Ling, we’re leaving!” Duke Jiang growls, tugging Jin-gongzi along as he once again walks away. He throws another glare over his shoulder, “You all as well!”
The group of young cultivators who had followed Jin-gongzi and were until now standing silently at the side, emulating very uninteresting stones, all jolt back to life. They do as they are told with wide eyes, scrambling after Duke Jiang. The procession disappears amongst the bamboo leaves and talismans.
From the distance comes voices.
“Jiujiu you’re embarrassing me!” Jin-gongzi’s voice is faint in the breeze, “Fairy come along! Jiujiu is being unreasonable again!”
“What did you say, you brat?! Respect your uncle!”
The spiritual dog —who Lan Sizhui honestly forgot about during that whole confrontation— jumps to its feet and bounds after its master. Senior Mo quickly shifts two steps to the side to ensure that Hanguang-wang is exactly in the middle of the invisible line between himself and the dog.
“What are we going to do now?” Lan Jingyi asks, a hint of a grumble in his voice. “Duke Jiang is never going to listen to us!”
Hanguang-wang sheaths Bichen back and looks towards the bamboo, a contemplative expression on his face. Lan Sizhui worries that he’s going to say that they will leave because the case of the demonic limbs is crucial. Although he knows that Duke Jiang is capable of protecting the juniors and defeating most any creature they may be facing here, it makes Lan Sizhui feel itchy with anxiety to abandon everyone here. So many of the cultivators participating are his friends or acquaintances.
Before Hanguang-wang can make a decision, though, Senior Mo gently puts his nearest hand on Hanguang-wang’s forearm. “Wangye,” He murmurs, something intent in his voice. He has his other hand, inexplicably, placed firmly over a qiankun pouch attached to his sash. Hanguang-wang turns to look at him and Senior Mo tilts his head towards an otherwise unremarkable direction before shaking his head. He still hasn’t let his hand move from where it seems to be pressing down a qiankun pouch.
“We will stay,” Hanguang-wang declares with a nod.
Lan Sizhui lets out a relieved breath. Lan Jingyi beams.
“Oh! Then shall we prepare a room for Esteemed Crown Prince?” One of the monks asks with a barely contained smile of cheer. It seems that Hanguang-wang truly left an impression on the monks here.
“Mn,” Hanguang-wang agrees, “Next to where Sizhui and Jingyi are staying.”
“Hanguang-wang, that’s not necessary!” Lan Jingyi hurries to protest, “We can take care of ourselves!”
Hanguang-wang gives him an unimpressed glance. “As I said,” He declares.
“Of course, of course, there is one empty guest room right next to their room!” The monk assures him, “Hanguang-wang and his concubine can stay there together!”
Lan Sizhui is the only one at the right position to see how Hanguang-wang’s face freezes at that.