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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 27 - ao3 -

Matters settled, eventually, and just as eventually, it started getting better.

At first, Lan Qiren wasn’t sure if matters were actually better, or if he’d just grown numb and accustomed, but after the past year and more he thought that there was a serious possibility of it being the former rather than the latter.

Probably the biggest difference was the birth of little Lan Huan, who’d joined the world as a fat and squalling infant that Lan Qiren had loved at first sight and sleepless night – he was still too young to be separated from his mother, or at minimum his wetnurse, but Lan Qiren made a practice of visiting every few days to try to prepare himself for caring for him. The women were generally happy to shove the baby into his arms and let him play guqin or xiao for him until he fell asleep. Apparently Lan Huan was actually a very peaceable baby, an assertion which Lan Qiren had initially doubted on account of the circles under everyone’s eyes, but when he’d said so, the wetnurse had glared at him and pronounced that saying such things meant that the next child would be a true wild terror, and probably a biter to boot.

The frequency of Lan Qiren’s visits was actually less about Lan Huan, although he liked his nephew very much, and more about trying to establish a precedent for visitation. He hoped, eventually, to be able to bring Lan Huan to see his mother on such a frequent basis, once or even twice a week, knowing as he did that He Kexin lacked the temperament for seclusion. To his regret, she’d ended up spoiling that plan not long after she’d recovered from her pregnancy, misinterpreting his frequent visits as an interest in her, and he’d been forced to cut back for a while out of sheer disgust at the mere concept. He bitterly scolded her in his mind for being seemingly incapable of seeing any other reason that he would visit so often, especially during the times that Lan Huan was already asleep, although he suspected in his heart that the real reason was simply likely a longing for a connection with the only other person she regularly saw.

He still had hope of negotiating regular visits with his sect elders, eventually, but now he knew he’d probably be lucky if he managed to make it once every fortnight, when originally he’d hoped for twice a week.

Disturbing female disciples is prohibited, after all. Lan Qiren had a very good reputation, being widely known to be frigid as a stick of ice, using his brother’s terms, but there was only so much he could do when there was known to be an expressed interest on the other side, especially an interest of adulterous nature. And couple that with what had happened between them before…

At least she’d restrained herself to only making a verbal offer, this time.

Lan Qiren did not know how to explain to He Kexin in a way that she would understand that although he visited her regularly as a matter of duty, and although he was the only person other than his brother with whom she regularly conversed, he did not enjoy his time with her – that he blamed her in part for the destruction of his dreams, the shattering of his heart in a way that would likely never heal, even though he did not blame her for his brother’s obsession with her. It was not her fault that his brother had fallen in love with her, or that he had taken such extreme measures for her, and yet…

“She’s still a bitch,” Cangse Sanren announced, and her new husband smothered a snicker in his sleeve. “What? She is.”

Lan Qiren sighed, and Wei Changze, smiling, made an excuse to depart and let them talk between themselves. He was a good man, with an irrepressible sense of humor that regularly made Cangse Sanren laugh without any shame at all, howling and hooting like a monkey. He had courted her assiduously even after she’d departed the Lotus Pier, headed off to complete her education regarding the mortal world in the various Great Sects, and yet had been oblivious to the fact that she treated their liaison as a serious one – perhaps he had only truly believed that she would give herself to him when they actually married, their interminably long courtship finally ending the way any blind man would have guessed it would from the very beginning.

“I asked you to come here so that you could meet A-Huan,” Lan Qiren said. “Not to relitigate the matter of He Kexin, who at any rate is already suffering the punishment for her unwise actions.”

“Unwise is an understatement. She killed a man! On no basis, and without even a formal challenge! If she’d just kept her sword in her sheath and not jumped ahead three steps –”

“I’m aware.”

Cangse Sanren made a rude noise, but settled back, grumbling. “The baby’s cute, though,” she added begrudgingly. “Looks like you.”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes. “Yes, thank you, he is my nephew. To the extent you can identify any traits whatsoever in a roly-poly puppy like A-Huan, they’re family features.”

“Of which you’re the finest representative!”

Lan Qiren gave her a look, and she grinned unrepentantly at him. “Heartbreaker,” she teased, but a moment later her smile faded. “Have you spoken with your brother?”

Lan Qiren’s gaze dropped to the table. “There’s no need,” he said. “He has always been torn between pride in his capability and the admiration of others on one hand, and a yearning to retreat from the world and its annoyances in order to focus fully on his cultivation on the other. Other than occasionally meeting with his wife, he is now able to wholly focus on the latter, and unlike He Kexin, his temperament is suited to the strictness of our seclusion practices.”

“There might not be a need,” Cangse Sanren agreed. “Did you speak with him anyway?”

“Once,” Lan Qiren said, voice short. After a few long moments, he added, a little painfully: “He said that our father had always seen seclusion as a means to reunite with his wife.”

Cangse Sanren hissed in a manner not unlike a very angry cat, or possibly an agitated snake, her eyes very nearly turning red from rage: naturally she knew about the whole awful background, the many years of age between Lan Qiren and his brother and the way his brother had always blamed Lan Qiren’s belated birth for the death of their mother, and by extension the shattering of their father’s heart when she left him behind, gone too early.

Lan Qiren’s brother had also said other things, mad things, things that Lan Qiren sought to forget as soon as he’d heard them but which he knew would likely haunt him in the dark of sleepless nights for the rest of his life. The worst of it was that Lan Qiren still loved his brother, who he’d idolized for so long: his brother who was the perfect gentleman when he wanted to be, capable of being kind and charming and generous, of excellent cultivation and who excelled in each talent, who was thoughtful and reserved and in his own way a very good sect leader – the Qingheng-jun that the rest of the world had seen, the one that Lao Nie had befriended, the one so much of his sect had pinned their hopes on.

Lan Qiren felt, as always, like an inferior substitute.

No one had made his brother fall in love, nor to take such terrible actions to protect his love from her own foolishness, and yet, if Lan Qiren could have found another way out that the sect would have accepted, he would have. It would have been better, in his view, to lash them both with the discipline whip until they lacked flesh if it meant that they would stay free. A human could live with pain, but he wasn’t so sure they could do without freedom or hope…

Aren’t you just the same as me, his brother had sneered at him through the door that would part them for the rest of their lives, lashing out like a rabid dog that sought to hurt others in order to ease its own hurt, or else would you snap yourself into a thousand pieces begging for a scrap of my approval, which you will never receive, or whoring your vaunted righteousness out for a smile from your ‘sworn brother’?

Lan Qiren hadn’t done that, and wouldn’t. Unbelievable as it seemed, his stubbornness had stood up against Wen Ruohan’s and won; it had been Wen Ruohan who had changed to match him, rather than the other way around. He had vowed that the Fire Palace remained useless, and Lan Qiren believed him, especially when even Lao Nie confirmed it to be true. They had taken to exchanging letters this past year, since Lan Qiren could not visit the Nightless City until he had stabilized the Cloud Recesses and – sworn brotherhood or no – a visit by Wen Ruohan to the Cloud Recesses would be taken as a formal exchange, sect leader visiting sect leader.

Perhaps now, after a year, when he had more fully settled into his role…

“Did the trash say anything else?”

For a moment Lan Qiren was unsure whether Cangse Sanren had somehow managed to follow his thoughts and was now referring to Wen Ruohan, against whom she still bore something of a grudge, but then he realized that she meant his brother.

“Anything of value, anyway,” she huffed, tossing her hair and baring her teeth in the way she used to do before she realized that human beings didn’t use threat displays in that manner.

“He picked a courtesy name for A-Huan,” Lan Qiren said. “As is his right, of course.”

That had been Lan Qiren’s true motive in going to see his brother, in fact. He had refused to go see his brother for months, even if etiquette suggested he should go to pay his respects; it was only after A-Huan was born that he had finally yielded. It was only upon seeing the round and innocent face of little A-Huan starting to smile that he felt compelled to bend his stubborn back and compromise himself to reach out – there was very little, he found, that he wouldn’t do for his little nephew, who had no one else in the world.

His brother had been largely disinterested, though, even when Lan Qiren had inappropriately brought the child over for him to see – it had been too early for propriety, before the first month ceremony which marked the moment when the child could be exhibited more broadly, but Lan Qiren’s heart had hurt at the idea of his brother not seeing his son before the rest of the world had had a chance. It was not a large distance between the seclusion house his brother had chosen for himself, the same one that their father had planned to use before his suicide, and the house set aside for He Kexin, which Lan Qiren had taken to privately calling the Gentian House on account of the flowers that crowded around it.

Everyone had turned a blind eye to Lan Qiren’s little excursion – but his brother hadn’t cared.

It was He Kexin that he loved, that he was mad for, and in his selfishness he could not see extending that love to anyone beyond her. Lan Qiren was resolved to teach A-Huan to do better, to think of others first, to care for other people and think not only of them but of the people beyond them, just as he looked at He Kexin and thought to teach him to make his own judgments of people, to listen to their side of the story and analyze it carefully based on what he knew.

He could only hope that it would help.

When his brother had told him to leave, that he didn’t care to see the child, Lan Qiren had left, returning Lan Huan to his mother’s care, and returned himself to his brother’s door, boiling over with rage, to give him a piece of his mind.

It had backfired on him, of course. He would have been better off not going back at all – the rules said Do not succumb to rage, and they were right. All he had managed to obtain was a sore throat from all the yelling and a fresh set of nightmares.

And a name.

At least he had gotten Lan Huan a name bestowed upon him by his father, as he deserved.

“He selected ‘Xichen’,” Lan Qiren said, drawing out the characters and passing it over for Cangse Sanren to see. “It’s a good name.”

“Lan Xichen,” Cangse Sanren said, sounding it out and thinking over the meaning of the characters. “Yes, that’s a good name. Full of ambition and well-wishes…I bet the rotten trash-heap sees A-Huan as another incarnation of himself.”

Lan Qiren didn’t exactly disagree. Still, it would be rude to say so; he coughed and shook his head. “What about you?” he asked instead. “Are you and Wei Changze planning on giving A-Huan a playmate?”

And himself a student, in a dozen years or so. He’d started accepting students from rogue cultivators and other sects, just the way he’d planned; it was still in the early stages. He was still writing to small sects with fewer resources and offering to take their problem children because he knew that that was all they’d be willing to send to him, an outsider – there had always been lectures offered by the Great Sects, but they were one-off things, often accompaniments to discussion conferences or else excuses for the sects’ adults to gather and socialize while the children learned a few days’ worth of material. Taking another sect’s child for a full season, the way he planned to, was a much bigger ask. Much less to teach them his Lan sect rules, which weren’t even seen as applicable by the rest of the world…

Still, Lan Qiren had hope that eventually he would be able to demonstrate his merit; if his teaching worked with this first set of children, he hoped that it would work in the future for more of them. He hoped he’d be able to help them learn something, but even if he didn’t, they would at least have the experience of traveling – of visiting another place all on their own – so that if something happened in their lives to rob them of their freedom, they would at least have that much to remember. And in return, he would have them, his students, the feathers to brighten and color his dull nest and let him experience a little of what the world was still available to him.

Cangse Sanren laughed. “Not for a few years yet,” she said, eyes dancing. “You’re still safe! We want to have some time for ourselves, first – we’re going to travel around as rogue cultivators. I’ll write to you from every city, and send you things!”

Lan Qiren smiled.

“But only,” she said primly, “only if you promise me you’re not actually going to go through with growing that awful beard of yours again –”

“I’m a teacher now. I’m entitled!”

“You’re too young! You have to wait until you’re at least thirty for a beard.”

“By what rule?”

“My rule! Also my aesthetics; you’re so pretty –”

“I explained to you my reasoning already,” Lan Qiren complained. “What do you have against it, other than an aesthetic preference which is completely irrelevant to me?”

“I’m a rogue cultivator from Baoshan Sanren’s immortal mountain,” she proclaimed. “I seek to improve the world wherever it may be, fight evil and promote good, and keeping you clean-shaven is such a clear and vast improvement to the beauty of the world that it must be fiercely fought for –”

“Cangse Sanren!”

She burst out laughing. “How about this?” she giggled. “You can grow it after you’re thirty, or else whenever I’m not here, so that you can have it when you’re teaching your classes.”

“Thank you for your generous permission,” he drawled.

“No, no, it’ll be good!” she beamed at him. “That means that when I’m gone for good, you’ll have something to remember me by.”

Lan Qiren’s smile disappeared. “Cangse Sanren –”

“I told you long ago that I was doomed,” she reminded him. “Anyway, I’ve kept a low profile, haven’t I? I’m not dead yet, and you never know what might happen. And anyway, like I always said, a short life in exchange for a good life is a bargain I’m willing to strike…anyway, enough about me. Tell me about your children! The students, I mean; are they really all terrible bear children, without a single good trait between them?”

“They’re fine,” Lan Qiren said, distracted by what was quickly proving to be a new favorite subject. “I don’t know what everyone complains about with them. So what if they’re mischievous at first? In the end they all learn, you just have to give them attention and figure out what it is that they like, what will work to give them a basis to use in the future…”

“Surely some of them have to be disasters.”

“Don’t worry, I’m certain that your future child will be a fiend in human flesh born for the sole purpose of wreaking havoc on the serenity of my classroom,” Lan Qiren said dryly. “To be matched only by the inevitable offspring of Lan Yueheng and Zhang Xin, should they ever choose to put aside their furnaces and chemicals long enough to have them.”

Cangse Sanren giggled. “Just you wait,” she warned. “They’ll have a whole host of children, just like the common folk do; none of this two-and-done that you noble scions of the Lan sect prefer. They’ll have an entire horde for the next generation, and just when you think that you’re finally done with them, they’ll have an ‘accident’ twenty years too late, a child of their old age, and you’ll have to teach them alongside children young enough to be A-Huan’s heirs…”

“Why must you curse me?” Lan Qiren complained. “What have I ever done to you?”

It had been a good visit.

Yes, Lan Qiren thought, he was starting to adjust, little by little. The life he had now was not what he wanted, not what he’d dreamed of, but he could live with it – he had to, of course, but he thought that he also could. He would play for his nephew instead of a nameless crowd in a distant city, he would teach students a generation too early, he would only leave the Cloud Recesses on short excursions – night-hunting, or discussion conferences, or visits to his friends, to play with little A-Jue over in the Unclean Realm or the slightly older A-Xu in the Nightless City, whose would-be sibling had not made it despite Wen Ruohan’s concubine’s best effort. Wen Ruohan had written in his letter that he had promised her another as compensation, but only in a few years, once her body had fully recovered and A-Xu was old enough that another child wouldn’t be seen as a threat, which seemed fair to Lan Qiren.

He would live.

He might even enjoy it.

He only wondered a little, about Wen Ruohan – his sworn brother had, he thought, expressed some mangled version of feelings towards him, feelings that well exceeded the ordinary course for sworn brothers and which he thought he had made clear were not unwelcome, but amidst the hubbub that had later ensued Wen Ruohan had not spoken of it again. Lan Qiren could understand that he had been distracted, first by Lao Nie’s marriage – now ended, according to Lao Nie, who seemed as unperturbed by his announcement that his wife had disappeared permanently and would likely never be returning as he had by anything else about this mysterious woman that Lan Qiren had never had the chance to meet and now never would – and then by Lan Qiren’s brother’s situation.

And yet, he would have thought that there would be something…

Wen Ruohan has lived for generations, he reminded himself. He is an ancient monster of the old sort, unmatched by any other living being, excepting only perhaps those that long ago retreated into seclusion or the mountains. Waiting a year or even a few is for him little more than a brief pause. He may yet reach out again – and, of course, you could do the reaching out yourself, if you weren’t such a coward.

It wasn’t cowardice that stopped him, of course, no matter what names he called himself. It was uncertainty, and also, in his own way, a form of care – it was the Lan sect’s curse to love too strongly, to prioritize their hearts above all common sense. Lan Qiren did not want to burden Wen Ruohan with an offer that would not satisfy him, to hang around his neck an obligation of unwanted feelings the way his brother had done to He Kexin.

Lan Qiren could not see a way in which he could offer Wen Ruohan his heart and not his body, yet he knew himself well enough to know that he would be unhappy if he tried to offer both. He could exert himself if he really had to, force himself to go through the motions that seemed so dull and unpleasant, all squelching amidst bodily fluids and inelegant grunting and none of the attraction that other people had to compensate for it. But he couldn’t do so sincerely, and he wouldn’t be able to do it for very long without developing resentment at being forced to endure such a task routinely – and it did seem that regular people wanted it all the time.

Such a feeling, if ignored, would breed disorder between them, poisoning their hearts…no, Lan Qiren could not make the first move, to take the step that would breach the paper between them, change them from their current status as brothers and nothing more.

He had made his position clear.

The only question was – what would Wen Ruohan do about it?

#mdzs #lan qiren #cangse sanren #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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bookofsurvival-blog · 6 years

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