Chapter Text
Without Envy
Chapter Four: Friends
“You two are the worst.” Jin Zixuan declared as he dropped down to join the other great sect heirs - save Jiang Cheng who wasn’t present - as they enjoyed their midday break during the music competitions, which by necessity spread out over two days to ensure there was a proper amount of time for each disciple to perform. And unlike the other competitions, started earlier and would end later, with some disciples even performing during meals instead of paid musicians.
Startled looks were exchanged by the sect heirs, even the eldest in Nie Mingjue who had made a habit of joining his close friend Lan Xichen in looking after their younger brothers with all the strangers flooding the Unclean Realm - when he wasn’t required elsewhere by his father.
And the new friend both Huaisang and Wangji had made in Wen Ying, if only because both older boys cast him as a ball of living sunshine (accurate) in need of protection (not so much.)
“Pardon, Jin-gongzi?” Xichen sent a puzzled glance towards the young man draped in golden robes, Jin Zixuan at fifteen being not quite a boy any longer but still years away from being an adult, much like Xichen himself who was only a year older.
“Lan Wangji and Wen Ying.” Jin Zixuan clarified with an undignified eye roll, flapping a hand at the two younger sect heirs who were seated properly side-by-side - but closer than one would expect newly-met acquaintances to be. “This one expects Lan-gongzi to ruin the curve at these competitions for everyone else.” He continued, showing deference towards the elder Lan that he rarely did anyone in his own generation - if no regard for his blushing demurrals. “As long as this one had been competing, the true competition has been for second place in the gentlemanly arts, and third or fourth behind Nie-gongzi, Lan-gongzi, and Nie Zonghui for martial skills.” His glare was half-hearted and more exasperated than heated towards the younger heirs. “Now fifth is the best one can expect after the younger sect heirs and the inestimable Lan Xichen as a gentleman, with hopes pinned on martial skills for distinction. You two,” he flapped a sleeve at the brightly blushing pair with a gimlet eye for Nie Huaisang as well - his damn paintings and calligraphy were nearly on par with Lan Xichen’s own, after all - “are a menace to our parental hopes.”
Neither of the younger sect heirs knew how to take his plaints, as while the words could be taken askance, the tone was far from rough or mean, much closer to complimentary than anything else.
For his part, Wen Ying clearly remembered his grandfather’s strictures when it came to the Jin Sect, but had a hard time reconciling the warnings about Jin Guangshan with this…deflated, mild peacock of a boy who looked and acted far more like a combination of Wen Xu when his Xu-jiu was being teased by Qing-jie and his new friend Nie Huaisang than any charming political schemer.
Still, his grandfather preached caution with the Jin Sect, so he would be cautious.
That didn’t mean he had to be rude.
“This one apologizes, Jin-gongzi,” Wen Ying piped up sweetly when it seemed like all his Lan Wangji would do is blush bright red at the ears, and Nie Huaisang was no help with how he was silently laughing behind his fan - Wen Ying could see you Nie Huaisang - as the older boys traded perplexed, but maybe entertained? Glances themselves. “If Jin-gongzi has been troubled.”
“Bah,” Jin Zixuan rolled his eyes once more, after darting a look over his shoulder to ensure he was still free of the damn retinue his parents insisted on him taking everywhere “for his safety” as if his younger cousins and a lone guard would do any good if someone actually wanted to cause trouble or worse send an assassin at him in broad daylight. He would have to apologize to Luo-guniang later for her unwitting assistance. Maybe see she got time with the good swordmasters at Jinlintai rather than the ones most female disciples were relegated to out of his father’s derision for female cultivators, despite bowing to the convention that women were allowed to cultivate and serve their sects in such a manner. “It is of no matter. These things are always more about our sects than us anyway.”
Lan Xichen sent a gracious smile at the other sect heir, seeing that perhaps under the bold-faced bravado there was a hint of loneliness that wasn’t quite as well concealed yet as it would be in a few more years as Jin Zixuan gained more exposure to the wider world and the court at Jinlintai.
Nor had it escaped notice of either Nie brother or Lan Xichen that for once the Jin heir was without his typical cluster of gold-draped followers.
It was lost on none of them that after apparently breaking for freedom, the Jin heir had sought out those who arguably had nothing to gain from his company or potential friendship rather than doing as many young men might in his situation and heading into the town for other, potentially less savory, entertainment.
Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen shared a soft look, hidden from the others as the younger men started conversing in fits-and-starts propelled by a combination of Wen Ying’s gregariousness and Jin Zixuan’s unfolding bluntness, each of them well able to remember a time when they themselves had no one but their sects for company.
And how…relieving it had been to make a friend.
No, they didn’t mind Jin Zixuan crashing their break and joining them.
Even if they wondered, given how the Jin were, if it would ever come to anything more than a young man’s temporary whim.
Well, they would see.
And if necessary, protect their juniors from being preyed upon by an opportunist trying to wedge themselves into their confidence and circle.
…
Nie Huaisang wasn’t sure what to think about Wen-san-gongzi at first.
The Wen weren’t exactly known for being the most friendly or outgoing bunch, being almost as isolationist as the Lan and as militaristic as his own Nie Sect.
They were warriors, and as the northern-most great sect, consistently faced the most numerous battles both in night hunts against resentment and corruptions, and even the random civilian or bandit incursion from the lands beyond the Middle Kingdom.
Like Wen Ying, this was also Huaisang’s first discussion conference, though he was only competing in the gentlemanly arts rather than martial skills, so he had never met the Wen in a large event, only been introduced to small parties of them in the past when the Wen Sect Leader or one of his captains had business with his father.
And what he had seen in those moments merely confirmed the rumors about the Wen.
That they were a stern, humorless, if powerful people.
He hadn’t expected Wen-san-gongzi to be any different…only to find in practice that other than his power which was obvious and innate for anyone with functioning eyes to see, he couldn’t be more apart from his own sect and family reputation if he tried.
Wen Ying was sweet. Kind. Thoughtful.
As well as outrageously intelligent and a young cultivator growing in power that would give both his father and brother yet another example for Nie Huaisang to never live up to as they’d been doing with Lan Wangji for years, but that wasn’t Wen Ying’s fault so Nie Huaisang decided to forgive him after despite his young age he managed to place into the top half of disciples among the swordsmanship competition and the top ten overall of the archery.
With Lan Wangji right alongside him in rankings.
Honestly.
Would it kill them to make life easier on Huaisang by sandbagging their skills, if only a little, to give his father less to fuss over him about regarding his cultivation?
Jin-gongzi’s complaint - however ultimately good-natured - hadn’t been without merit after all: now that both Lan Wangji and Wen Ying were competing, the rest of the world would have to make do with being in their shadows, as they were already heralded as prodigies, just as Lan Xichen (and his own da-ge, if only in martial skills) had been before them.
Nie Huaisang staunchly ignored that he placed as high or higher than either younger heir in some competitions, such as the horse races or that his team had taken second in the chariot race whilst the younger boys weren’t allowed by their sects to compete.
None of his accomplishments were directly related to the strength - or lack thereof - of his cultivation, and unfortunately, that tended to be what mattered among the gentry.
Not that the Lan were ever only adequate horsemen given that they lived on a high, isolated mountain range that made equestrianship a waste of time. The less said about their chariot skills the better. No, only that due to their vaunted way of life and precepts that the Lan Clan turned out mighty, righteous cultivators with appalling regularity.
It didn’t matter to the gentry that by imperial standards, Nie Huaisang was everything a learned, refined gentleman should be, with even his archery better than standard.
They played at caring about the Six Arts, but in truth, only cultivation truly mattered among the sects.
Everything else was mere window dressing to the might of swordsmanship and the brilliance of their golden cores.
Sure, people commented that Huaisang’s da-ge wasn’t skilled in calligraphy or music, but no one shamed him for it the way they would if he couldn’t fly his saber or use a bow.
Jin-gongzi hadn’t been wrong when he’d complained about Lan Wangji and Wen Ying destroying the curve and the expectations many had had about the Nie Discussion Conference being their best chance for glory.
The decision of including the two young prodigies as soon as they were able to attend, had ruined many a young cultivator’s hopes.
That they did so out of earnest effort and skill whilst being so damn humble and good-natured about it (though the latter was far more inline with Wen Ying’s behavior than the stoic affect of Lan Wangji) only made it worse in a lot of cases than better.
They didn’t even have the graciousness to be smug about it, which would soothe many an ego over there being some flaw in the pair.
Still, in Huaisang’s opinion, there was something to be said about the long shadow the pair cast, if one was willing to shelter under it. It was a familiar place of safety from expectation for Huaisang. With the martial grandeur of his da-ge to hold up and be the pillar of the clan as the Sect Heir, their father and elders were far more indulgent of Huaisang’s foibles and love of artistry than they might otherwise be.
With all eyes watching the Lan brothers and Wen Ying, there were far less gazes inspecting Huaisang - or even thinking to look for him - and that was wonderful for his personal endeavors indeed.
He thought Jin-gongzi should enjoy the opportunity the excellence of others provided, but, in an appropriately-Jin manner, Jin Zixuan apparently had too much pride and ego for that.
Whether he would use the example of the “most excellent youth” - as one blustering minor sect leader had fawned out at banquet - as a spur to his own endeavors or would choose instead to rail and sulk over it, remained to be seen, though for his own sake - as Jin Zixuan wasn’t entirely objectionable - Huaisang hoped it was the former.
Especially as his entirely awful cousin Jin Zixun was already proving to be the latter with his tantrums over his placing far lower than he felt entitled to.
Snapping open his favorite fan as he followed his father and brother into the banquet hall for the final feast of the conference, most of the cultivators present eager to dine once more on the finest cuts of meat that the Unclean Realm could provide, Huaisang allowed himself a swift glance over the merry-makers.
Noting how their eyes tended to shift between watching Wen Ruohan or the most excellent youth who had distinguished themselves and were therefore seated in a place of honor just below the host’s table.
Huaisang himself had a place there, for he may have fallen in overall rankings after the conclusion of martial skills, but his exemplary talent in the refined arts carried him into the top ten overall.
Along with his new friends, of course.
“A’Sang!” Huaisang lowered his fan with an indulgent smile for the youngest among them, Wen Ying as exuberant and flushed with excitement as ever. No doubt in large part over being placed between Lan Wangji and Huaisang himself for this feast, instead of stuffed between his elders at the Wen tables. “Over here!”
“Go on,” his father waved him off indulgently, shaking his head with a smile for the enthusiasm of Wen-zongzhu’s grandson. “Enjoy yourself, Sang-er.”
“Yes, baba,” Huaisang chirped brightly up at his father, then his brother in turn when da-ge arched a brow at him. “Bye, da-ge, don’t get too bored, I’ll keep Xichen-ge company for you!”
“Go away, bratling.” Nie Mingjue huffed and rolled his eyes, shoving his brother - gently so the slightly-built Nie didn’t go flying - over towards the honored juniors. “Don’t make trouble.”
Huaisang held in a snort.
Right.
Because anything he could do could compare to the tantrum Madam Yu had thrown, or the clear scheming that she was up to with Madam Jin.
Sure, da-ge.
It was Huaisang that was worth worrying about.
Not sect leader’s wives plotting or Jiang-zongzhu trying to steal Wen Ying away, or even Wen Ying himself trying to sneak Lan Wangji into his luggage.
Sure.
Pick on didi.
Just for that, he wasn’t going to hold back on his stories about Mingjue-ge’s latest pratfalls whilst out Night Hunting or training to Lan Xichen when Xichen-ge asked how things had been.
Xichen-ge was going to ask.
He always did.
And Mingjue's loving didi had plenty to tell.
…
Wen Ying was conflicted when the discussion conference was coming to a close.
On one hand…it had been overwhelming in a lot of ways. Especially the way people watched him. Always. All the time. He knew it wasn’t about him. Not necessarily. It was about being a Wen of the main family and having skill and talent to go along with his name, or so Xu-jiu scoffed when he saw Wen Ying growing uncomfortable at the stares.
It was near constant, especially after Jiang-zongzhu made an issue of Wen Ying’s parents as a potential play for taking over his custody. With people whispering when they saw him almost as much as they watched him. Well…unless Mingjue-ge was around to scare them off along with Zhuliu-ge.
Then people left him and his new friends alone.
But that was also the issue: he made friends! Good friends! Friends who liked him and teased him and wanted to hear what he had to say. And not because they felt they had to because he was related to grandfather, either.
Of course, a’Ying couldn’t know that they were his friends just because they liked him. It was impossible to know what went on in other people’s heads. Even his grandfather wasn’t able to do that.
What grandfather had taught him instead was to watch and listen.
To see if what people said matched up against what they did and how they behaved.
And for the most part, that was true of his new friends.
Nie Huaisang seemed a bit…tricky maybe, but not bad.
Meanwhile Jin Zixuan was either almost totally silent - when around his own sect members, which was weird - or dry and biting in the best way.
For a prickly peacock.
Wen Ruohan took one look at his grandson’s face and knew what was bothering him - and it certainly wasn’t whatever idiotic plot the Jiangs were cooking up with the Jins, as Jin Guangshan’s considering glances of Ying-er had only grown in frequency with each accomplishment his grandson showed off.
“You can write them, you know.” Wen Ruohan told him, tone nothing short of amused, distinctly remembering an anxious bean of a boy in his office less than two weeks prior fretting over whether he’d be able to make friends. “Your new friends.”
“Can I?” Wen Ying perked up immediately, the thought having never crossed his mind.
Why would it?
He’d never had anyone to write before, given that he’d either been on the road with his parents, homeless, or thoroughly coddled at Nevernight.
Everyone he’d ever known prior to the discussion conference, were either in his immediate vicinity or dead.
While he did his due diligence as a filial son, giving offerings and prayers at the plaque his grandfather had erected within the Wen ancestral shrine for his parents, it wasn’t like the dead received letters in the afterlife.
That was what prayers were for, or so Wen Popo, the matriarch in charge of the shrine, said.
“Of course you can.” Wen Ruohan assured him. “Running messages is an excellent task for junior disciples, low risk, but demanding of their qi control. I’m certain if you ask, all of your new friends would be more than willing to correspond with you.”
“Okay!” Wen Ying leapt up from where he was pouting at his packed qiankun pouch in his grandfather’s rooms, waiting for him so they could officially take their leave from the Unclean Realm. “I’ll go right now…”
And off he went, leaving his grandfather chuckling and Wen Zhuliu darting away to keep up with a put-upon sigh.
“What was that about, fuqin?” Wen Xu asked as he entered the corridor from his own guest room next to his father’s, one hand propped on his hip in a seeming gesture of ease but really was a personal reassurance.
He hadn’t come along to the conference on a whim, despite his father potentially being willing to allow him to stay back if he chose to begin cultivating his heir immediately following the confirmation from their cousin, and the head of the Dafan Wen medical branch of their family, Wen Yiheng that his golden core could tolerate the drain solo cultivating a child required.
Cultivating a child rather than taking the more traditional route of marriage and siring children was a complicated business, and one that made certain demands of a cultivator.
Part of the process, which made it on the prohibitively expensive end of cultivation endeavors (and one of the reasons why it was relatively rare), was acquiring the proper, ah, components to create the seed of life that would be cultivated into a child as well as the crucible it would grow within.
With the finest glass and crystal artisans in all Jianghu attached to the Wen Sect and plying their trade in Nevernight or greater Qishan, the crucible - which was generally the more difficult component to acquire - had already been commissioned before they left and should be close to completion if not finished by the time they return. Fashioned out of only the purest spell-forged crystal, the crucible originally was made in two pieces, to allow the seed of life to be placed within and then sealed. Only the purest workmanship would do, or else the talismans required to channel qi into the seed wouldn’t take and would fail.
In comparison, the seed that would become the seed of life, was relatively easy to acquire.
In theory.
Tristes on the subject claimed that any life-bearing seed would do, whether animal or plant, with the only caveat being that it must be barren if taken from an animal such as a duck egg.
However, Wen Xu was the first son of the Qishan Wen, and not just any seed would be suitable to cultivate with his qi.
Wen-yishi had been resolute after taking a thorough survey of Wen Xu’s qi signature, golden core, and meridians: if he tried to use any ordinary seed, the power and fire of his family’s infamous qi would scorch it, complicating the process if not sundering it completely.
There would not be a better opportunity for Wen Xu to acquire a seed that would withstand his qi than at a large discussion conference, as traders and rogue cultivators alike came to sell their wares.
Or in the case of the rogues, the trophies of their Night Hunts.
Which was how Wen Xu came to purchase one wanderer’s entire cache, nearly a dozen in total, of rare seeds of a treasure flower, the Foxfire Lily, which only grew in areas that both contained a volcanic vent and had formerly been the home of huli jing.
Formerly, because only a fool would attempt to sneak into the territory of a huli jing and expect to live to tell the tale.
Or an immortal, but the rogue who’d dared one of the islands off the western coast for the treasure flowers - some of which Wen Xu had also purchased for Wen-yishi’s medicines - was certainly not that from the minor strength of his golden core.
With the seeds and treasure flowers obtained, Wen Xu would be vigilant to say the least until they were safely within the bounds of Nevernight, as more than one sect leader - including Jin Guangshan - had groused (if quietly, to prevent giving offense) over his high-handedness in claiming them all for himself.
Which, given that one of the uses of Foxfire Lilies was said to be a cure for waning yang energy, wasn’t much of a surprise.
With as infamous as Jin Guangshan’s lechorous activities were, Wen Xu was surprised the vain bastard had enough qi left to fly his sword, let alone anything else beyond keeping his face and form youthful.
“Just your nephew discovering the wonder that is correspondence.” Wen Ruohan smirked at his son, who winced for the poor kid. Already being trained for administrative duties and he didn’t even know it. “In regards to his little friends.”
“Ah.” Wen Xu blinked, then sent a surprised glance at his father as the sound of his new sister-in-law dragging Wen Chao their way reached them. “And you’re…allowing that?”
“On the contrary,” Wen Ruohan was sanguine regarding his son’s shock. He’d always taught him - and he maintained - that the other sects had little to offer the might of the Wen. But Ying-er was a different creature altogether than Xu-er. He was the sort that needed friends like a bud needed sunlight to bloom. Ying-er would always be at his best when he had people around him to both challenge him and to support him. There was no one - to his chagrin - who could do the former within the bounds of the Wen Sect. Not in his own age group. As a result, other options had to be found. And other than the Jin brat who Ruohan would be keeping a firm eye upon, none of the others Ying-er had gathered to him were truly objectionable. Merely…potentially problematic in time, though nothing Ruohan couldn’t handle. “It shall be encouraged.”
Only the best would do for Ying-er to spend his attention on.
And though it sat ill with him, for boys of his same generation, there were none better than the other sect heirs.
So Ying-er would have them as his friends.
Nothing else would do.
…