38. You Could Do Worse

Yanli had Meng Shi set up in one of the bedrooms, figuring A’Cheng and Ying’er would not mind bunking together again for a while. Her maidservant doted on Meng Shi as if she was an empress dowager, which Yanli thought fitting and Meng Shi, used to being the lowest ranking person in the room, found disconcerting at first.

A’Cheng came back much later in the day covered in sweat, bruises, and a few bloody stripes from Zidian’s backlash. But, he was smiling like a little boy with his first toy sword, so Yanli forgave him when he picked her up and spun her around before being chased by both her and Meng Shi into the bathing room.

His lovely, deep, rich voice rang through the pavilion as he washed up, singing a romantic Yunmeng song about a lost fisherman looking for his beloved along the river. It was a familiar and comforting tune that had Yanli humming under her breath as she set up a new embroidery project in the main room.

“Pssst.”

She looked up to see Meng Shi lurking by a window, looking outside as if she was hiding from someone. She was waving Yanli over.

Quietly, cautiously, Yanli tiptoed over to her, wondering what danger they could possibly be in, given how deep they were located in the Unclean Realm. Meng Shi gently pulled her close so she could look out the window at the threat.

Outside, two young maidservants and a gardener were frozen in place, staring up at the pavilion…or rather, towards the bathing room where A’Cheng was singing. Yanli frowned. Was Meng Shi suggesting that they should be punished? Yanli had no qualms with hard working servants taking a break every now and again.

One of the girls swayed a little, her eyes bright and glossy. She elbowed the young gardener, who blushed and elbowed her back.

“Ah, the romance of youth,” Meng Shi sighed benevolently.

Startled, Yanli looked at Meng Shi and then back at the three teenagers. They all wore expressions of adoration and it hit Yanli like a club that they were crushing on the voice of her youngest brother. They had probably seen him coming and going from the pavilion, and knew how handsome he was (“for a child!” her mind screamed) and were now enamored of his very fine and, yes, romantic singing voice.

“Oh no,” she whispered.

It was Meng Shi’s turn to look at her in surprise. She covered her mouth and started laughing, which had the servants scattering to the wind.

“Have you not noticed how people look at him when he walks by?” Meng Shi said, still giggling behind her sleeve.

“He’s my brother! He’s…he’s a baby!” Yanli hissed.

Meng Shi shook her head, her eyes still delighted crescents. “He’s nearly a man, and a fine one at that. Tall, well formed, talented at the six arts, and cheekbones that can cut glass. His beautiful voice is like a pearl set near a diamond—extraneous, but no less valuable and admired for it.” She leaned over with a mischievous expression that Yanli knew well from Meng Yao himself, so she braced herself for Meng Shi’s next words.

“The sisters at the Dragon Shoal would surely fight each other in the alleyway to earn his favor.”

Yanli shrieked and covered her face with her hands. Meng Shi laughed again but took pity on her.

“Fear not, we are here to protect his virtue!” She gently guided Yanli back to her seat. “No one will win any of our boys without proving themselves to our satisfaction, A’Li, I promise,” she said, still with a teasing smile on her face.

Yanli determinedly put the thought out of her mind, but could not help but look at A’Cheng objectively over dinner. He was, in fact, exactly as Meng Shi described. While Liu Peng seemed immune, fortunately, several of the servants who brought food and took their laundry were definitely giving him longing glances.

At least, until Yanli chased them out of the pavilion.

A’Cheng looked confused while Meng Shi hid her laughter behind her sleeves, holding them up to cover her entire face.

It was all just a distraction from waiting for Ying’er and A’Yao to return, but fortunately, that wait did not go on much longer. The next morning, they were once again interrupted during breakfast, this time with news that Nie Mingjue and company were on their way back, with everyone accounted for and in lively spirits. They would be at the fortress in the early afternoon.

Meng Shi was oddly nervous about dressing to receive them, gratefully borrowing one of the outfits Yanli had not worn yet and fussing with her hair. Then she looked forlornly at Yanli’s makeup “kit” which was a small bag of pale face powder, delicate peach lip papers, and a cake of brown mascara.

“Gentry ladies don’t actually wear much makeup. It’s supposed to be a sign of our strong cultivation that we don’t need to,” Yanli explained. There were, of course, many cultivators of all genders who did wear makeup, but they tried to do so unobtrusively, or risk being mocked.

Meng Shi huffed. “I’m not a cultivator.”

“No, but you are the mother of the seneschal of the Yiling Wei sect, who is a respected cultivator and the student of two highly esteemed rogue cultivators.”

Meng Shi looked at her in surprise, as if she had never put that fact together before. Maybe she hadn’t. Yanli took her hand.

“You are a member of the gentry, now, Second Mother. Wear what pleases you. A’Yao will be thrilled to see you no matter what, I promise!”

Meng Shi nodded uncertainly.

“If madam desires, I can find some lip papers in red?” Liu Peng offered.

Meng Shi smiled gratefully at her.

When they stood in line next to Nie Popo and the other Nie, Yanli and A’Cheng were back in their formal black, peach, and dusky-red outfits (suitable colors for Yiling, Yanli thought with chagrin) while Meng Shi stood proudly in a beautiful soft green hanfu with touches of dark green velvet, a light dusting of powder on her face, and her lips dyed a delicate rose-petal red. Compared to her appearance at the Dragonfly Shoal, she was modest and subdued, yet still caused many heads to turn as she walked to the front gates of the fortress city. Liu Peng had brought not just lip papers but an assortment of hair pins loaned by Nie Popo herself. Meng Shi managed to put almost every single one of them in her hair and still look understated and elegant, which was a trick Yanli really wanted to learn. The pins jangled prettily as she passed by the Nie cultivators, bearing herself with stately composure, and they all stared at her with wide, worshipful eyes.

Yanli watched with amusement when Ying’er rode in behind Nie Mingjue and startled at the sight of them, then whooped loudly in confused joy when A’Cheng held up his hand to display Zidian.

That caused Meng Yao to stop trying to appear so formal and polished and look over at them as well. He paused, blinked, then actually leaped off his horse and ran straight into his mother’s arms, babbling as he asked her how she got there, how she was doing, was she well?

Ying’er did likewise, coming up to spin Yanli around yelling, “we did it! We did it!” Lan Wangji also dismounted, but followed at a much more sedate pace to come stand very close to Ying’er. Yanli caught the side-eye that Meng Shi gave him.

Nie Mingjue approached with Nie Popo and Nie Zonghui, who was wearing a lot of bandages over his face but seemed in a good mood about it.

“Sect Leader Nie,” Yanli said with a bow after finally pushing off Ying’er, who just transferred his exuberance to A’Cheng, grabbing his hand to look at Zidian with vicious glee.

“Sect Leader Wei,” Nie Mingjue said with a grin. “I heard we had some interesting visitors.”

Yanli blinked at him placidly, mimicking Lan Wangji as best she could. “Interesting is certainly one word to describe them.”

He shook his head in amusement, but then his expression turned somber. “It’s a bad sign that Wen Ruohan was so bold, and it has proven that the sects of the jianghu are not united against him.”

“I fear this might represent the start of our worst fears,” Yanli agreed.

He nodded, then looked over her shoulder and stalled out. He just stared, eyes wide, until Nie Popo snorted and poked him in the ribs.

“Ah! Ha ha! Ha! Who is this lovely lady?” He asked, a wild blush creeping up over his entire face. Nie Zonghui and Nie Huaisang looked at him like he had just shaved his head and decided to be a monk.

Meng Shi subtly shifted Meng Yao aside and gave Nie Mingjue the kind of elegant, graceful, and alluring curtsies that men wrote whole poems about. “This one is Meng Shi, Honored Sect Leader Nie.”

“Ah. Oh? Yes. Um.” He coughed. “Seneschal Meng’s sister, I presume?”

Ying’er barked out a laugh until A’Cheng stomped on his foot. Meng Yao, on the other hand, looked torn between hysterical laughter and righteous fury as he stepped forward.

“This is my mother, whom I told you about back in the Cloud Recesses,” he said sharply, causing the boys to flinch. Behind him, Meng Shi looked between them curiously.

Nie Mingjue’s expression cleared as he obviously remembered.

A ’Yao picked up his tea and sipped it like an emperor holding court. “I am Meng Yao, son of the courtesan Meng Shi of Yunping. My father is a hedonistic reprobate who uses his cultivation for personal gain, and I will not carry his name in any lifetime.”

Then he bowed. “It is an honor to meet the mother of such a brilliant young cultivator. Qinghe Nie welcomes you and thanks you for the loan of your son, who has proven his bravery and intelligence in the course of a dangerous mission.”

Meng Shi’s face flickered in shock for a moment, but she smoothed it away as she curtsied again, her head tilting just enough to make all of her hair pins chime sweetly. “He brings honor to our family and sect,” she said.

Nie Mingjue stood up and then lost his voice again, staring at her.

“Aiya! So good to be home, and alive too! How fortuitous!” Nie Huaisang announced loudly while physically shoving at his older brother, demonstrating strength he usually kept well hidden. “Time for us to go get cleaned up and stop smelling like donkeys!”

“Hey, wait—” Nie Mingjue finally registered that he was being escorted out of the plaza, but the rest of the Nie were already breaking up and returning to their work, while several led away their horses. Nie Popo chuckled and added her strength to Nie Huaisang’s, literally shoving their sect leader to the family quarters.

Meng Yao stood there, hands on his hips, glaring at Nie Mingjue’s back.

“I mean, you could do worse, Second Mother,” Ying’er said thoughtfully. “And by worse, I mean anyone from Lanling Jin.”

Meng Yao turned his glare on Ying’er, but Meng Shi laughed, a surprisingly melodic sound, and covered her mouth with one of her sleeves as her eyes curved into delicate crescents.

Across the plaza, Nie Mingjue actually tripped, then turned around to stare at her again until Nie Popo bonked him on the head with her fan.