58. Hanguang-Jun

“Baby baby baby baby,” Ying’er chanted, staring down at the bundle in his arms. “Xiao Niao! Xiao Niao! Baby baby baby!”

If she had ever doubted that Ying’er would one day give her nieces and nephews, those doubts were put to rest by the radiantly happy expression he wore every time he got to cuddle Xiao Niao. There had even been a war of attrition between A’Yao and Ying’er for the baby, settled only when Meng Shi herself took charge of passing the infant back and forth between them.

Long before the sun rose the morning after the birth, Meng Shi had taken over the infant’s care and well-being like a general going to battle. She arranged for a wet nurse to join the caravan, going so far as to requisition the woman’s entire family as support for her while she nursed her own daughter and Xiao Niao. Yanli felt a twinge of sympathy for Nie Meitong, the leader of the expedition and one of Nie Mingjue’s top generals, whose every objection was hammered down like an errant nail by the combined forces of Meng Shi and Meng Yao.

Meng Shi hired a woodworker to fit a suspended “floating” bassinet securely into their carriage, and paid several local women handsomely for baby blankets, diaper cloths, and other essentials that Yanli had no idea they needed. Meng Shi had even arranged for the wet nurse’s eldest daughter to be hired as a nanny to assist with all the upkeep a baby required (apparently). By the end of the first day of Xiao Niao’s existence, he was as well provided for as any young lordling of the gentry could possibly be after such an inauspicious beginning.

Ying’er started singing a Yunmeng song about birds and Nie Huaisang looked over his shoulder at the tiny infant with a squint. “The name fits. He’s too thin for a baby.”

“Hush! Xiao Niao is perfect in every way!”

“No, he is too thin,” Meng Shi said and imperiously retrieved the child from Ying’er grasping arms. He whined a little, but as she was taking Xiao Niao to the wet nurse for his last morning feeding before the caravan started up again, he knew better than to argue outright.

A’Yao looked on the domestic scene with a smug satisfaction that was devastatingly handsome on him. Yanli schooled herself to look elsewhere. Her brain was so tired from the events of the past day and a half that it was hard for her to remember to guard her reactions in public. It was just past dawn, but she was eager to get on the road and take a nap.

“Sect Leader Wei.” Nie Meitong approached her. A’Yao quickly walked over to her side, and the general bowed to him as well.

“Is there a problem?” Yanli asked, trying not to cringe. Between a sickly newborn infant, Madam Jiang’s corpse, and a wet nurse (and her entire family) joining their expedition, there were plenty of problems, in her opinion.

He grimaced a little, but then shook his head. “No. Not directly to us.” He motioned at the large and well-protected caravan. “But when we were in town, some of us heard odd rumors that I thought you should be aware of.” He looked up and Yanli saw Nie Huaisang being dragged over by an exceptionally tall and exasperated guard. It made sense, since he was officially the highest ranking Nie, but it caused Yanli to tense up because if Nie Meitong wanted Nie Huaisang to be a part of the discussion, it meant that it was important to all of them.

When Nie Huaisang was deposited next to them, Nie Meitong ignored his complaints with the ease of long practice and continued.

“There are rumors of a masked bandit harassing genteel travelers, including cultivators.”

A’Yao tilted his head. “Just one bandit? I don’t think that is something that warrants our concern,” he said as politely as he could.

The general nodded in agreement, however. “Yes, normally I would not have given him a second thought. Bandits like that eventually play their hand and get caught, and we are not a good target for him anyway… unless he has a death wish, in which case we are happy to oblige. However… he’s not just stealing. He’s… uhm, he’s giving away.” He looked genuinely confused.

“What?” Nie Huaisang asked, looking just as confused.

“He’s stealing from rich travelers and apparently giving the money and valuable items away to poor villages and families.”

Everyone just stared at him. He stared back, then nodded again. “Exactly. It’s…it’s very odd.”

Nie Huaisang looked fascinated. “Let me get this straight: he’s a masked bandit who is successfully stealing from people flush with money, not getting caught, and then turning around to give that money away to the poor?”

“Mn. And every time, he carves the phrase ‘war is murder’ in an obvious location. Near a well, or on the town gate.”

Nie Huaisang’s mouth dropped open.

“Is he a cultivator? Perhaps he was a member of one of the small clans Wen Ruohan destroyed,” A’Yao offered.

“That’s the weirdest part, though. We don’t think he is a cultivator, even if he clearly has some training. He uses a mundane sword, but he apparently can outfight any soldier or guard he comes across. He does not actively use controlled spiritual power, but he does use talismans quite well. He is masked, but people describe him as tall and well formed, as any cultivator might be. Graceful. Soft spoken. Exceedingly polite… except for all the burglary and illegal redistribution of wealth and carving nonsensical chengyu in public places.” He shrugged, truly mystified. “However, the common people are coming to admire him greatly.”

A’Yao narrowed his eyes. “How greatly?”

“Very greatly. He’s helping them prepare for wartime, after all. He’s providing them untraceable coin and fungible resources they can use in emergencies, enough to get through a hard winter. He’s even clearing out ghosts and some smaller yao, which honestly no bandit I’ve ever known of would bother with, if they even knew how.”

Yanli looked at A’Yao then back at Nie Meitong. “Yet you’re convinced he’s not a cultivator?”

“As best as we can tell, from the descriptions. Maybe he is, but is hiding it for some reason? It’s possible his training might too clearly identify who he is and what sect he is from. But it is peculiar behavior, and I thought it would be wise to share this information with you.”

“Does he have a name he goes by?” Nie Huaisang asked, and Yanli could almost see the wheels in his brain turning out a new poem or song, should the name be romantic and dashing enough.

“Not that anyone knows, but the common folk have taken to calling him Hanguang-jun*.”

Yanli blinked in surprise and A’Yao’s eyes went very wide. Nie Huaisang whipped out a small pad of paper and a writing stick to take notes.

“That is quite a noble title,” she said delicately.

“He only earned it recently, protecting a small village from a violent group of bandits…ironically. As I said, he does not act like a cultivator, but he has the makings of one, yet he doesn’t act like a bandit either. It’s very odd,” Nie Meitong repeated, as if trying to impress that fact upon them.

“We appreciate the information. If you hear more about him in our travels, please inform Seneschal Meng,” Yanli said. Nie Meitong looked relieved to have passed the responsibility off, bowed, then grabbed Nie Huaisang and dragged him away like a goat that needed tying up. Which was pretty accurate when she thought about it.

A’Yao pulled Yanli aside before they got to her carriage.

“It must be Lan Xichen,” he said thoughtfully.

“Ah! Yes, that makes sense.” She shook her head in amazement. “How virtuous of him to protect the common folk, even without a golden core.”

A’Yao snorted, and Yanli looked at him in confusion. He rolled his eyes, which was adorable, but she put that thought aside.

“Virtuous, perhaps, but he’ll be making enemies of local gentry and nobles. They tolerate bandits on the whole because they usually focus on stealing from other poor people. Once someone starts stealing from the rich, then it becomes a problem.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “I’m half of a mind that he’s doing this on purpose, to attract attention to himself. But why? And why this far north of Gusu?”

“Ah, that is easy to answer. He is an older brother—he is trying to draw attention away from Lan Wangji, if he can. Would you not do as much for your younger brothers?”

A’Yao took a sharp breath, startled by the words.

“A’Yao! Did you think that our taking up the surname Wei meant that we disavowed you?” She asked, feeling hurt by the idea.

He shook his head. “No! A’Li, no, of course not! But I had assumed a more martial relationship would be appropriate now.” He paused as if trying to find the next words, but finally just settled on, “After everything.” He shrugged softly.

She glared at him and his expression shifted to wariness. “A’Li?”

“I suppose I’ll just have to marry you, then! That way, they will officially be your younger brothers!”

He looked completely stunned by her outburst, his mouth slightly ajar.

“What? Did you think I would not marry you?” She felt herself getting genuinely angry for once.

“MARRY? YOU ARE GETTING MARRIED?” Ying’er shouted from behind them, shocked and delighted, a grin bigger than the Yangtze spread across his face. “SECOND MOTHER!” He bellowed and spun around to run off just as A’Yao reached out to grab him.

“I will throttle him in his sleep,” A’Yao snarled, hands grasping at air.

“You sound like an older brother when you say that,” Yanli said primly, looking away, trying to keep her voice from cracking. “But if you do not wish to be his brother, that is your choice.”

He turned to face her, abashed. “A’Li, of course I want to marry you. I have dreamed of it! But you are a sect leader now, I don’t even have a core—”

“Meng Yao!” Meng Shi’s voice snapped through the air like a firecracker. She was walking over with purpose, Ying’er delightedly hopping around her, still grinning.

“Mama!” A’Yao looked utterly cornered, eyes wide and pleading. “I didn’t!”

“I told you to let me handle this.” She reached out, grabbed his ear, and dragged him away. Ying’er cackled and more than a few Nie were trying to hide their laughter.

“He’s in so much trouble, ahahahah!” He rubbed his hands together.

“Ying’er.” Yanli said forcefully and he turned to look at her innocently. She sighed. “Ying’er, I proposed to him.”

He blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I proposed to him, not the other way around.”

He stared at her thoughtfully, but the expected remorse never came.

“So he’s getting punished for something he didn’t even do? AHAHAHAHHAA!!!!” He raised his arms in triumph. “Revenge is mine! Wait until I tell Huaisang!” He dashed off, then ran back and kissed Yanli on the cheek. “Congratulations, JieJie!” Then he was running away again.

“You can really tell they are brothers,” Liu Peng said pensively.

Yanli spun around in surprise. “Were you there this whole time? Did you hear all of that?”

She went wide eyed. “No?”

“…I’ll be in the carriage.” Yanli gathered her skirts and her dignity and marched off.