59. Anything Can be Done

Her mortification was given no rest. Liu Peng kept her eyes downcast, although she was very obviously smirking as they went through all the preparations for the day's travel in the carriage. When Meng Shi joined them, she sat next to the bassinet and asked Yanli, point blank, if she was with child.

“Second Mother!” Yanli gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth. Even Liu Peng blinked in surprise.

“Well?” Meng Shi speared her with a look.

“No!” She squeaked through her fingers, shaking her head. “No!”

“Hmph.” She leaned over and adjusted Xiao Niao’s swaddling. “A’Yao said the same thing.”

“You didn’t believe him?” Yanli asked, shocked.

“I know boys often have more reason to lie than girls do,” she answered softly, gazing down at her son’s half-brother. Yanli snapped her mouth shut.

Meng Shi took a deep breath. “He also claims that you proposed to him first. Of course, that is nonsense.”

“But I did!”

“You most certainly did not.” Her gaze lifted again, eyes focused and sharp. “That is improper, and there will be no impropriety associated with the sect leader of Yiling Wei.” The words landed like lead weights hitting the water. Yanli felt frozen in place. Meng Shi continued primly coddling Xiao Niao as she talked.

“A’Yao was overcome with emotion and proposed on the spur of the moment, instead of waiting for his mother to approach the eldest Wei brother, as is proper.”

Yanli sat there in silence, words failing her completely. It had never occurred to her—not once since she realized that her betrothal to Jin Zixuan died with her mother—that anyone would ask to wed her. She had spent years thinking she was simply off the market forever. Who would marry the bastard girl of Yunmeng? Who would dare take a chance on the daughter of an adulteress? She had never thought about someone approaching Ying’er to ask about a betrothal because it was impossible to contemplate.

But A’Yao wanted to marry her. A’Yao had agreed to marry her. The thought took root in her heart and spread out like warm syrup.

“Wipe that smile off your face!” Meng Shi tried to sound admonishing, but she was obviously suppressing laughter.

“Sorry, Second Mother.” Yanli lowered her head without any genuine remorse.

“Hmph,” Meng Shi grumbled again. “Too many moving pieces on the board for this nonsense.” She spoke softly, thoughtfully. “War, Nie Mingjue, the death of Madam Jiang, her son’s survival, and now your all-but-official betrothal.” She sighed heavily.

Yanli looked over at the baby, sleeping soundly as the carriage, still cradled by Ying’er’s feather-light talismans, glided along. Meng Shi’s words suddenly made her realize that there was a major issue they needed to discuss as a family, as a sect, as soon as possible. She also knew it would be unpopular, so she waited until after dinner.

A’Yao was holding Xiao Niao close to his chest, looking particularly pleased about it, while Ying’er glared at him jealously. Yanli sent Liu Peng out as well, which turned all their attention to her. With just the four of them, not counting the baby, Yanli sincerely missed A’Cheng. But she had business to conduct, so asked Ying’er to put up sound muffling talismans for their open-sided tent where they ate and relaxed in the evenings together.

“Everyone thinks he is the heir of Yunmeng Jiang,” she said. “We are already attached, but you know we have no claim to him.”

Ying’er expression darkened a bit, but he did not argue. Neither did Meng Shi or A’Yao. They knew she was right. After a moment, though, A’Yao straightened up with a grim determination.

“He’s my brother, and I refuse to lose him,” A’Yao announced.

“What?” Ying’er yelled.

“Oh, that’s right, you do not know,” Yanli said, cringing. “Second Mother…” She looked at Meng Shi pleadingly. Fortunately, Meng Shi was feeling generous, and explained the horrid story of Madam Jiang’s rape. By the end of it, Ying’er looked murderous.

“Jin Guangshan is trash!”

“He’s my father,” A’Yao said, although he sounded more resigned than defensive.

“I don’t care!”

“Ying’er, calm down,” Yanli ordered sharply. She did not like the glistening of red in the cornea of his eyes. He took a big breath and slumped down, crossing his arms. She turned to A’Yao.

“How? We can’t just claim a sect heir as our own.”

“Don’t see why not,” Ying’er grumbled.

“Sect Leader Jiang has every reason to fight for Xiao Niao, and no reason to believe anything we claim,” she pointed out. “It’s not as if Jin Guangshan will admit to violating Madam Jiang, or would take the child even if he did believe it was his.” She glanced at A’Yao, who did not flinch.

Meng Shi nodded. “It is a thorny issue. I agree that in an ideal world, the child would stay with his real family, which is A’Yao at this point, but it is true we have no legal standing. His mother was Madam Jiang, and that is all the legitimacy Jiang Fengmian needs to claim him, no matter the truth. As long as he lives, he will claim the child as his.”

Ying’er sat up straight. “Oh. You’re right.” He smiled at them. “That solves everything.”

“Ying’er, no!” Yanli exclaimed.

His expression turned chillingly somber. “He kidnapped you and put your life in danger in order to gain favor with Wen Ruohan. Do you think we’d let him live after that?”

A’Yao hummed in agreement, his own murderous expression only tempered by the baby drooling on his chest.

Yanli opened her mouth to reply, but Ying’er shook his head slowly. “A’Cheng and I vowed to kill him ourselves, JieJie. For everything he’s done to our family, he deserves to die.” He let the words sit for a moment before smiling at Xiao Niao. “Second Mother is right. That solves everything!”

“It does not solve everything,” Meng Shi said sternly. Ying’er frowned at her, but she shook her head. “Even with Jiang Fengmian dead, everyone will think this is his son, the heir of Yunmeng Jiang. There are enough relatives to demand the child be turned over to them to raise.”

That gave Ying’er pause.

If anything, A’Yao looked even more determined. “There are others,” he said, confusing Yanli with the non-sequiter. Even Meng Shi frowned.

“I heard rumors, when I was on the run. Other bastards,” he added softly, glancing at his mother before focusing on his sleeping brother. “I want them all.”

Meng Shi gave him a stern glare. “They are not weiqi pieces.”

“No, Mama. They are my family.” He finally looked directly at Yanli. “If my sect leader will have them, we can bring them in as disciples.”

“Of course, A’Yao—”

“There is no way to know,” Meng Shi interrupted sharply, a tone in her voice that was almost ragged. “We cannot prove Xiao Niao’s paternity. We cannot even prove yours. We cannot prove any of them.” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and they all sat silent, waiting for her continue.

“I believed for too long that the pearl he left for me would prove to him that A’Yao was his.” She talked, but her eyes remained closed. “Not until A’Yao came to rescue me and Sisi from the Dragonfly Shoal did I learn that it was worthless and common.” She took a deep breath. “He probably leaves such trinkets strewn around the jianghu. No doubt other cultivators, other sect leaders, know he does so. To own one means nothing, not to the gentry.”

She finally opened her eyes, and they were filled with grief and regret. “You must listen to your sect leader, my son. The boy is not ours to keep.”

A’Yao shook his head, tears glistening along the edges of his lashes. “Mama,” he whispered, but no other words came to him.

Just then, a crow flew into the tent. Even the Nie wandering by outside ignored it, given the messengers were a familiar sight by then. It hopped around, inspecting the tent as if making sure everything was in order, before looking at the baby. It cawed at Xiao Niao, who woke up with a start and blinked in surprise.

“Get over here,” Ying’er grumbled. The bird hopped over onto his knees. Nothing seemed to happen, but after a moment, it flapped its wings and took off. Xiao Niao cried out in disappointment.

They all turned to Ying’er, who looked confused. “Sleeping, hopping…I mean, walking…I don’t know, doesn’t look like they are in Gusu at all. A’Cheng is very tired.” He frowned. “I don’t like it.”

“Is anything wrong?” Yanli asked.

“Not that I can tell. Just…weird. It’s like they are going in the wrong direction.” He sighed heavily. They all sat in solemn silence until Ying’er snapped up and yelled “Ah hah!” He reached in to his sleeve and pulled out the highly warded qiankun pouch he never let out of his sight, then carefully extracted one of the small glass vials wrapped in a stasis talisman.

“Blood!” He held it up triumphantly.

After a long moment, A’Yao sighed. “Use your words, Ying’er.”

“Oh! Right, right. I use A’Cheng’s blood to track him. It works with the crows because he’s my brother.”

Yanli was sure there was a connection there, because with Ying’er there always was, but his brain sometimes went in directions no one could follow.

Except A’Yao, who let out a soft gasp. He leaned closer, inspecting the vial. “You’d have to reverse—”

“Yeah! Exactly, not like a tracking talisman—”

“No, no, but perhaps a net? Capture. Connection.”

“That…oh, yeah, that might…hold on.” He put the vial away and turned to his small writing table, scribbling away on a worn old piece of thick paper with a charcoal stick.

Meng Shi and Yanli looked at each other before turning to look at A’Yao in unison.

He smiled gently. “He’s talking about a blood connection. Using a talisman to show the relationship between the blood of two people.”

“More like an array, I think. It would have to actively engage with their qi as well as their blood. I think. Hmmm.” Ying’er was already lost in the puzzle.

Meng Shi shook her head in wonderment and horror. “Such a thing could up-end half the jianghu, A’Yao.”

“They literally made their beds, Mama. I have no qualms about opening the doors to their shame.” He paused, shifting Xiao Niao and glancing slyly at Yanli. “If my sect leader allows, of course.”

Yanli did not answer at first. Meng Shi was right that a talisman that could connect blood relatives could very well cause utter ruin to many people in the jianghu. Some, like Jin Guangshan, would be rightly shamed by such revelations, but she thought of the now-deceased Madam Jiang and other women like her, who would no doubt be made to pay the price other men extracted from her body. She thought of herself and A’Cheng—how many children would be thrown away or worse if their blood did not prove “true”?

But…it could also reunite families torn apart by poverty, natural disasters, and war. Wives accused of infidelity could prove their innocence.

There was no simple solution to holding such power in your hands, she realized. She looked up to see all three of them studying her with varying shades of worried expressions.

“Jin Guangshan can throw away his offspring because few dare to show themselves, and he knows no one will stand in their defense. A’Yao is possibly the only one I’ve ever heard of who tried to present himself formally as his son. As you say, Second Mother: word gets around. Few women would risk the life of their child, knowing that story.” She took a deep breath. “But to gather all his bastards together, to give them shelter, and a family, and a name if they so choose…Sect Leader Jin could not ignore that. He would take it as a threat to his own position on the peacock throne, and I don’t think that’s an unreasonable assumption. Empires have fallen on lesser rumors. There is nothing I could say or do as a sect leader to fully assuage his concerns.”

A’Yao, who had understood her point long before she ever made it, sat quietly radiating frustration as he cradled his brother in his arms, expression drawn and staring at the ground. Meng Shi was looking at him sadly, a mother wishing for a way to ease her child’s heartbreak.

Ying’er…was smiling.

Yanli frowned at him.

He held up his hand, ticking off his fingers. “Wen Ruohan. Jiang Fengmian. Jin Guangshan.” His smile grew and he shrugged dramatically. “Who needs ‘em?”

Meng Shi startled. “That would leave nothing left of the jianghu! Both Qinghe Nie and Gusu Lan are insular in their own ways. The smaller sects, the ones who survived such a cataclysm, would be fighting for power for generations.”

“I note that you did not actually argue about whether it could be done or not,” Ying’er countered.

“Anything can be done, with enough planning,” A’Yao said thoughtfully. “But Mama is right. To take out three great sects would leave a massive void of power.”

“Unless?” Ying’er grinned even harder, eyes glittering as he stared down A’Yao in challenge.

“Unless someone was there and ready to fill the void.” A’Yao’s smile was slow and sharp and vicious as he turned to look at Yanli. “Unless there was a sect leader who had the power of the Burial Mounds at her back, her brothers at each hand, and marriage alliances with the two remaining great sects to stand on.”

Meng Shi let out a thoughtful hum.

Mortified, Yanli stared at each of them in turn. Her family was verifiably insane.