31. A Price Beyond Vases

Two days later, Yanli found herself flying through the air towards the Unclean Realm.

She had not been on a sword in years by that point, but it was second nature to lean back and feed a bit of qi to the disciple who was giving her a ride to help offset the added stress of her weight.

“Unnecessary,” Lan Wangji intoned, not unkindly but firmly.

She just nodded and looked out at their convoy. Nie Huaisang was with his brother on Baxia, followed by Ying’er and A’Cheng each with a Nie disciple, while Meng Yao was being carried by the Lan disciple Su Minshan who did not look happy about it. A few other Lan and Nie disciples flared around them in defensive formation.

Ying’er had tried to finagle his way into riding with Lan Wangji, but Lan Qiren had put a stop to that with a glare that Yanli would remember to her dying day. Even Lan Xichen had shuffled backwards under the weight of it. Then Nie Mingjue offered to carry her, and A’Yao had said something pointed about propriety and so it was that she ended up riding with her brother-in-law-to-be and Ying’er with anyone else.

If she was a tiny bit disappointed that she did not get to nestle up to Nie Mingjue’s extremely broad and well-muscled chest, well, she was only human. No one ever had to know of her improper thoughts. Although she thought A’Yao might have picked up on them, with the sour looks he kept giving both her and the sect leader. She made a note to try to talk to him privately when they got to their destination.

She had almost been left behind with Lan Xichen but she had refused—politely at first, and then more sternly the more the men kept talking over her. It had finally taken A’Cheng slapping a hand on the table and shouting “Stop interrupting my elder sister!” before she got a chance to explain, quite simply, that where her brothers went, she would follow, whether by sword or by blood pool.

No one had dared argue with her after that, and soon they were on their way to Qinghe with Ying’er and Lan Yi’s (very well warded) yin iron shard.

And a murder of crows following behind them, which Ying’er swore was not a problem or ominous in any way. She did not blame anyone for not believing him.

When they landed a day later, deep within the massive fortress that was the Unclean Realm, Nie Huaisang flounced off with the bare modicum of politeness.

“Your room is that way!” Nie Mingjue yelled after him, pointing off in a different direction.

“The library is this way and I have a lot of work to do*. No thanks to you!*” Nie Huaisang did not even turn around as he shouted.

So, they were still on bad terms.

Nie Mingjue grimaced as he watched his brother go. Nie Zonghui approached him. “Sect Leader Nie.” He bowed, then glanced at Nie Huaisang’s retreating back. “Is everything all right?”

“No,” Nie Mingjue said with feeling. Nie Zonghui startled for a moment, then realized they had unexpected guests.

“Miss Meng? Young Master Meng?” He looked around at them, confused. “Ah, Lan Wangji.” He bowed.

“Popo!” Nie Mingjue bellowed. Yanli looked around for a grandmother and instead saw a mountain of a woman stride over, as broad as Nie Mingjue if not as tall. She wore a truly elegant set of dark green robes in silk and velvet, embroidered heavily with silver qilins, and had a thick brace of braided gray hair piled up on her head, filled with beautiful hair pins, along with a massive saber strapped to her back. She did not look very old, other than the gray in her hair and slight wrinkles around her eyes, but she held herself with the weight of age and experience that younger cultivators could only pretend at.

“A’Jue. You boys fighting again?” She stood with her arms crossed, and while she was a head shorter than Nie Mingjue, she looked taller. The boys were thoroughly intimidated, and even Meng Yao stared at her with wide eyes.

“Please settle in our guests. I have to have an emergency conference with my lieutenants and the elders.” He bowed to them. “Rest well. We will be departing for the tombs in the morning, so we will discuss specifics later. I will send for you.” He left without much further fanfare, a very confused Nie Zonghui trailing behind him.

The woman they called Popo quickly whisked them off to guest quarters. The Lan all bunked together in austere barracks, including Lan Wangji, which was apparently a standing order for them when they visited.

Yanli, on the other hand, was shown a beautiful pavilion with private rooms and an attached bathing house. It felt like sliding back into her old life in the gentry, with the respectful address and the quiet servants arranging all their needs and requests. In the Cloud Recesses, everything was still very ad hoc and driven by necessity after their abrupt appearance in the heart of the sect’s grounds, but now in the Unclean Realm they were just another gentry family visiting the sect leader.

A’Cheng and Ying’er fell back into the formalities and expectations the same way Yanli did, although they waxed poetic about the small late lunch they were served of savory fried rice and a pile of spicy grilled meat.

They all took some time to refresh themselves and change into clothing more appropriate for guests of a great sect, most of them provided by Nie Huaisang courtesy of his extravagant shopping trip to Caiyi that his brother, tellingly, had not said one word about.

Throughout it all, Meng Yao was quiet, polite, and withdrawn.

A’Cheng, ironically the more socially adept of the two of them, picked up on the mood and asked Nie Popo to take him and Ying’er to an empty training yard so they could work out. Ying’er took the bait, and they ran out to go exploring. Nie Popo winked at Yanli and sauntered after them, which meant that for the first time in a long time, she did not feel compelled to worry about what they got up to.

“Come join me,” she said to Meng Yao, handing a small basket of sweet rice balls and tiny cakes to their assigned house maid. He looked after them for a moment before following. Out in the back was a lovely well tended garden, with an immaculately manicured miniature willow draped over a pond filled with brightly colored koi.

“Ah, are you familiar with the guest house?” A’Yao asked, bland and expressionless.

“No, but you visit one great sect’s guest house, you’ve visited them all.”

“Ah.” He sat down and watched as the maid set out their treats along with some chilled soy milk. Yanli motioned that she wanted privacy, so the girl scampered off to stand inside the main room, within sight but out of earshot. A’Yao watched her warily.

“Did you know the vase holding the plum tree branches by the entrance is an ancient Han piece?” He asked, again bland and expressionless.

She paused, thinking of the rustic but exquisite vase she had barely noticed in passing. It did not surprise her, though, since for all their brutal efficiency at cultivation, the Nie were still a great sect and rich enough to put such an expensive rarity in a guest house.

“I did not.”

He nodded as if she had confirmed a greater question, then sipped his milk.

“A’Yao, I beg of you to please share your burdens with me,” she said. “I see you are discomfited and would ease your mind if I can.”

He nodded and finally graced her with a small smile. Genuine, for all that his dimples did not appear.

“I understand what it means to be rich. Even in the Cloud Recesses, the elegance and expense were obvious.”

She nodded. “But they have a monastic tradition, and do not flaunt their wealth.” She thought about it for a moment. “Aside from the richness of their guans and outer silk robes.”

That garnered a chuckle. “How do they keep those robes clean?”

“It is a mystery that has haunted every housekeeper in the jianghu for generations!” She leaned over, as if sharing a secret.

He laughed, and they ate cakes in silence for a long while, enjoying the peace of the garden. Finally, he put down his cup and took a deep breath before speaking.

“I am simply wrong footed here. Oh, I know the etiquette. Between you and my mother, I am adept in any company, I like to think. But it is different. I see now the affectations of the Dragonfly Shoal were mere shades of true wealth. You simply handed that basket to a maid servant you expected to be there. You knew a private garden was yours to command. You know food will be served if you ask, that baths will be run. You do not need anyone to fawn over you because they already know their job is to keep you at peace by meeting every need.”

She really had no response to that, since it was true. Four years of relative poverty and obscurity could not erase fifteen years of privilege, she knew. Even the boys fell back into old habits, expecting that of course they would be shown to a training ground if they asked, and allowed to use it without any question of their right or qualification to do so.

“I cannot deny my rage that this is the life my mother should have had, and that I should have been raised in.” He closed his eyes. “I feel shame admitting that, but I cannot deny it. I fear you will think less of me for it.”

She reached over and picked up his hand, and he looked at her with sad eyes.

“I am fucking furious every day of my life,” she said softly.

He burst out with a loud, shocked laugh before covering his mouth with his sleeve. “Yanli!”

“I am angry at my mother for putting us in this situation. I can’t lie: I sometimes dream of a life where she destroyed those damn letters, where the evidence never surfaced and I am still the Young Mistress of Lotus Pier. I dream of a man who would have at least given us shelter when he discovered the truth, instead of taking out his rage on us. I dream of a betrothed who loved me enough to throw over the world to marry me, no matter my status. Every dream carries the cost of a rage that tears at my soul. A’Yao, I am so filled with resentment. And I fear I always will be.”

He had scooted closer as she talked, covering her hands with his.

“So I ask you the same question: do you think less of me for it?”

He shook his head. “No! Never, Yanli. You are so strong. So good. For all that I would burn the world down for what it has done to us, I would never bring harm to you. Never.”

She was not sure when they had leaned in so close, but their foreheads were touching as they whispered. “And I can say the same to you, A’Yao. You are good. You are kind. You are brilliant and clever and worth more than any damn vase.”

He chuckled. “Lao Wang would be so happy to hear you cussing.”

She giggled.

“What if I promised it all to you, Yanli? If I promised that we will take them down, those who hurt us and the ones we love? We will destroy them.”

“I would say you are extremely ambitious, Meng Yao.”

“I have a worthy goal to achieve.” He drew back to look at her and she thought, yes, kiss me. Please kiss me, A’Yao!

Right at that moment, the maidservant cleared her throat loudly.

They jumped apart and caught their breath as the front door slammed opened and the boys spilled in, jaunty and sweaty from their exercises, calling out for her as they made their way to the garden.

“We’re here to get cleaned up! Sect Leader Nie wants us to all conference together before dinner!” Ying’er said, then stopped short, looking between them in confusion.

A’Cheng just stood there, glaring at A’Yao. “Not you too!”

“Huh?” Ying’er looked at him. “What?”

“Never mind. Let’s go.” A’Cheng grabbed Ying’er and hauled him to the bathing room.

That’s when she noticed that A’Yao was blushing furiously and refusing to meet her eyes. She realized that if they had not been warned in time, her brothers would have walked in on them indecently kissing in public.

She looked over at the maidservant and mouthed the words “thank you” at her. She looked very smug and curtsied.