29. Beribboned

Yanli thought with chagrin that when all this was over, they should take their show on the road. By that point, they were all very good at explaining what had happened over the past few days, and took turns talking as if they were professional storytellers at a popular inn. Everyone had a part to play.

Which meant that, at least, they got through the explanation fairly quickly, filling in all the holes in the narrative she had left out in the original version she had told Nie Mingjue less than an hour earlier.

He sat there with his hands on his knees, listening intently, looking every inch the disciplined, well-respected sect leader he was. He listened, and did not interrupt, and nodded occasionally.

When they were done, he slapped his knees and looked over at Lan Xichen. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” he said, shaking his head. The only reason A’Cheng and Ying’er did not object was Yanli gripping their wrists so hard she was surprised her nails weren’t drawing blood.

Lan Xichen tried very hard not to grimace, while Lan Wangji looked incredibly insulted.

“Don’t look at me like that, Zhan’er, you have no room to talk! Getting betrothed behind your brother’s back!” Nie Mingjue rumbled, his tone laced with disapproval.

Lan Wangji visibly warred with himself for a moment, but then glanced at his brother before bowing his head.

“Don’t be mean to Lan Zhan!” Ying’er challenged, bristling like an angry squirrel.

“You’re a feisty little guy,” Nie Mingjue said with what sounded like approval. Ying’er was so thrown by the backhanded compliment that he just sat there, blinking.

Nie Mingjue turned to Lan Xichen. “Given this information about Wen Ruohan, I believe we should take council with your uncle. It seems a trip to the Unclean Realm is called for, and this will take some planning. I need to send word to Nie Popo,” he added with a grimace.

Lan Xichen looked sympathetic at that, but nodded. As they stood to leave, Lan Xichen assured Yanli that the elder Lan was fine, recovering from the showdown with Ying’er thanks to the aid of some medicinal tea and private meditation. It was why, he admitted, that he had brought Nie Mingjue directly to them, in order to allow his uncle some peace and tranquility to balance his qi.

“Especially since it seems as if war might be coming to the jianghu soon,” he added regretfully, before leading Nie Mingjue and his brother away. Lan Wangji looked over his shoulder several times as they left, while trying hard not to look like he was looking back at Wei Ying.

Nie Huaisang and A’Yao had not returned by that point, so it left Yanli with Ying’er and A’Cheng, who both looked a bit worse for wear. Between all the meetings, the emotional strain of the past few days, and their respective punishments the evening before, they were flagging.

Yanli nibbled one of the remaining pastries and studied them quietly for a moment. She then put down her teacup, and both of them immediately went on guard, straightening up in their seats and looking at her warily.

“Ying’er, you’ve said that you got betrothed to Lan Wangji out of necessity, but I fear that it perhaps put you in an unwelcome position.” She cleared her throat. “If you wish to have the betrothal broken, Meng Yao and I will see it done.” It would probably not endear them to the Lan any more than the betrothal itself did, but she would not allow either of her brothers to be trapped in a loveless marriage filled with regret and animosity.

She had suffered as the child of such a marriage for the first fifteen years of her life, and knew the cost.

“You just say the word, Ying’ge! I’ll make sure that stuck up Lan never looks at you again!” A’Cheng snarled, looking ready to march out and challenge the renown Second Jade of Lan to a dual.

Ying’er blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. His sleeve fell down his arm a little, exposing the ribbon Lan Wangji had tied there.

“What happened in that cave, anyway?” A’Cheng asked with a frown, eyeing the ribbon with suspicion. “All you say about it is that Lan Yi tested your skills. Did she make you jump through hoops or something?”

Yanli had wanted to ask the same thing, but both Ying’er and Lan Wangji had been reluctant to talk about it. Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen were inclined not to push the matter since it involved Lan Yi’s spirit and, presumably, Lan sect secrets. All they knew at that point was that the boys thought they had been gone for about ten days from their perspective, not one. Yanli knew better than most how life-changing a mere handful of days could be.

“She wasn’t there for most of it. First, we had to find a way to ward off the chord assassination attacks on our own.” He held up his wrist. “Lan Zhan tied this around my wrist so it would recognize me as a Lan. I guess that was our betrothal?”

Yanli tried not to cringe. A betrothal made under duress did not sound promising to her.

Ying’er studied his wrist for a long moment. “But then we ended up in a cave with a qilin and had to answer one hundred riddles. One hundred!” He huffed in annoyance. A’Cheng reared back in horror, because he was far too literal and could never answer riddles correctly, and even Yanli found riddles difficult. To answer one hundred, in a row, correctly was nearly unimaginable to her, and something akin to torture.

“I’m sure you and Second Young Master Lan did admirably,” she said, trying not to sound as mystified as she felt.

“Thank goodness Lan Zhan was there!” Ying’er sighed dreamily, and Yanli recalibrated her assumptions about the betrothal.

“You like him!” A’Cheng announced accusingly. He looked like he had smelled a stink bug.

Ying’er opened his mouth to automatically deny it, but stalled out, a look of confusion on his face and his gaze distant as he lost himself in thought.

“What happened after that?” Yanli asked, hoping to avoid a bigger mess.

Ying’er blinked and drew his attention back to the conversation. “We ended up in some other caves, and I told Lan Zhan that he could have his ribbon back if he wanted it, but he said I should keep it. I promise I tried to give it back, JieJie! But he just would not take it.” He stared at his be-ribboned wrist again wonderingly.

“Ah,” Yanli said, nodding. She really did not want to ask the next question, but she needed to know. “We’re you two ever in danger?”

He brightened up. “Oh yes! There were the fire farting frogs, and then we had to cross a room where the floor was lava, and then there were the fierce corpses—” He stopped when Yanli held up her hand.

“I think… I think maybe you should write up a night hunt report for A’Yao,” she said weakly.

“Fire farting frogs?” A’Cheng yelled. “That sounds awesome! Were they disgusting?”

“They were so disgusting!” Ying’er yelled back, a broad smile in place as he took a deep breath to begin telling A’Cheng all the awful details.

“Boys,” she said, and they both settled quickly. She let them have a moment to calm down from the inherent glee of disgusting, fire-farting frogs.

“Ying’er, if you are pleased about the betrothal, then we will support you.”

“I…I really like him, JieJie. I don’t know if he feels the same. Maybe he just thinks he is obligated?” He looked tragically uncertain.

“If he doesn’t like you enough to marry you, then I’ll find those frogs and turn him into a fire fart myself!” A’Cheng announced, forgetting his former doubts as he hugged Ying’er.

Yanli suspected that Lan Wangji did actually feel the same, but it was not her place to force them to kiss or anything. Plenty of time for that after their wedding…speaking of which.

“You realize that you are only fifteen, and you cannot get married until you are twenty?” She asked, hiding a smirk.

“What?” Ying’er shrieked. “No! Blacksmith Cho’s son got married at seventeen! Why can’t I?”

“Because you can’t get Lan Wangji unexpectedly pregnant, you idiot!” A’Cheng smacked his arm.

“A’Cheng!” Yanli glared at him. He just sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Everyone knows it. All the market aunties talked about it for months. No one believes Little Fatty Cho was born three months early, JieJie,” A’Cheng said, looking very much like one of the aunties himself as he shook his head knowingly.

“Hmmm,” Ying’er hummed thoughtfully. Alarm bells went off in Yanli’s head.

“No. No wedding until you are properly an adult and have had your crowning ceremony,” she said ruthlessly.

There was a cough outside the door. It sounded like an older man, and Yanli’s mental alarms got louder. With wide eyes, she flapped her hands to get A’Cheng and Ying’er to leave through the back door quickly. They scrambled and were gone faster than rabbits, if not as quietly.

Yanli gave them an extra few moments to disappear by getting to her feet slowly. She finally went over to the door and opened it with a deep bow.

“Grandmaster Lan. This is one is honored to receive you.”