64. A Hero of the People

Jin Zixuan had, tragically, only become more beautiful with age.

At fifteen, he had been pretty but a bit soft in the face and of a height with Yanli. At twenty, he had grown both up in stature and into his mother’s sharp Yu cheekbones, walking with the confidence of a warrior and the aura of a gifted cultivator. He was still unmarried, according to Nie Huaisang, but Yanli imagined that the maidens of the gentry were falling all over themselves to broker a contract with him.

“Yanli?” He repeated, staring at her. The sounds of battle were dying off around them, so Yanli stood up and dusted off her robes.

“Zixuan,” she said, breaking with convention. She was, as a sect leader, of higher rank than he was as merely an heir, but it was still a breach of protocol to simply call him by his name. Not that he knew that.

“Yanli?” He repeated yet again. “But…but…you’re dead?”

They looked at each other in confusion for a moment before Yanli rallied. “No. I am very much alive.”

“I see that,” he said weakly.

“Who is this celestial being come to save us?” Nie Huaisang whispered, gazing up at Jin Zixuan. Yanli wanted to thwap him on his forehead, as she had no doubt that he knew exactly who it was.

“Young Master Nie, it is I, Jin Zixuan! Remember me from our classes at Cloud Recesses?” He looked down with genuine worry at where Nie Huaisang was still cradled in the elder’s arms.

“Oh! Of course! I am merely in shock from surviving the vicious attack we have cruelly endured until you came to our rescue.” He gave Jin Zixuan a dopey look and batted his eyelashes. “My hero.”

The elder rolled her eyes and stood up, dumping Nie Huaisang on the ground and ignoring the resulting squawks. “I am needed elsewhere.” She bowed deeply to Yanli. “If you have no need of my services, Sect Leader Wei.”

“Of course, Elder Nie. Please see to your peers.”

She harumphed in displeasure and scuttled off to tend to the other elder who had helped Nie Huaisang.

“Sect Leader Wei?” Jin Zixuan squinted at her.

“Zixuan!” A young Jin disciple ran up, her blade still dripping blood. “Stop running off! We’re your bodyguard!”

“MianMian, I can take care of myself,” he said, his arrogant and disagreeable nature rising to the surface again.

A’Yao was helping Nie Huaisang up and glanced between Yanli and Jin Zixuan curiously, and with a hint of displeasure.

Oh, she thought after a moment of confusion, he is my ex-betrothed and A’Yao’s half-brother. She made a command decision for all their sakes and rolled her shoulders back.

“Seneschal Meng, please go and assist the non-combatants. I’m sure a few are in shock, and there is a considerable amount of, ah, clean up that needs to happen. If you see General Nie, please let him know we are at his disposal.” Nie Meitong already knew that, but A’Yao nodded, understanding the show she was putting on.

“Of course, Sect Leader Wei. This one will not tarry.” He bowed low, backing away respectfully before turning to walk off at a sharp clip, his cane held at his side like a sheathed sword. He would pay for those theatrics later, she knew, and made a note to tell Du Zhilu to check on him.

“Who was that? He looked familiar.” Jin Zixuan looked after A’Yao with his head cocked like a dog.

MianMian grimaced, but kept her mouth shut and her eyes to the ground, clearly seeing what Jin Zixuan did not. Yanli had heard of Zixuan’s close friend Luo Qingyang, of course, but had never met her. She already liked her, though.

“That was Meng Yao, my seneschal,” Yanli answered simply.

He turned back to her. “Your seneschal. As in, aide to a sect leader?” He shook his head. “What is going on? I thought you were dead!”

“Sect Leader Wei!” Nie Meitong jogged up. “I am so glad to see you are unharmed! And you!” He turned to Nie Huaisang, who quailed under his stern glare. “Sect Leader will hear about this!”

“No no no! Don’t tell him!”

“You said you could put up a protection ward, not that you had rediscovered the lost art of qi-threading!”

“I didn’t! It was Crane in the Mist!” He held up Yanli’s fans. “I just, uh, used them?” He seemed to realize his argument was crumbling before his very eyes.

Nie Meitong knew it too. “You masterfully used rare and powerful spiritual tools, Young Master. I will have to tell Sect Leader.”

Nie Huaisang slumped in defeat as Nie Meitong turned to Jin Zixuan.

“Young Master Jin.” He bowed deeply. “This Nie Meitong thanks you for coming to our aid. I fear to think what would have happened without your help.”

“Please rise. I am glad the Jin were able to assist.” Jin Zixuan dipped his head.

“That does raise the question of why you were able to assist,” Nie Huaisang said from behind a fan.

Nie Meitong frowned, then nodded before addressing Jin Zixuan again. “Yes. What brought you to this area in the first place?”

“Sect Leader Jin heard of the exodus of the Nie from the Unclean Realm, and worried for Young Master Nie.”

Yanli thought that was completely untrue, but no doubt something Jin Zixuan believed wholeheartedly. A shared glance with Nie Huaisang showed that he was of a similar opinion.

“So he…he sent you to help protect us?” Nie Meitong asked uncertainly. “Forgive me, Young Master Jin, but we thought your sect was remaining neutral in regard to the Wen attacks.”

Jin Zixuan shifted uncomfortably, much like a bird settling their feathers, but nodded. “I admit it was not our intention to join any battles.” He looked around in chagrin. “But Father specifically sent me to assure Young Master Nie’s safety. So here we are.”

“My safety?” Nie Huaisang squinted at him, his fan slowly dropping lower.

“Yes, of course.” Jin Zixuan bowed slightly, heir to heir. “The Jin have long been allies of the Nie, as well as the Wen. Tempers are high between your sects and my father wishes to assure your safety, as a sign of continued friendship between us.”

‘Tempers are high’ was an odd way to phrase ‘50,000 Wen marching to wage war against the Nie’ but Yanli was also pretty sure that was something Sect Leader Jin would say.

“And how, exactly, were you meant to do this?” Nie Huaisang asked, folding up his fan to tap it against his palm, probably considering the same question. The whole situation was extremely suspicious.

“I am to escort you to Koi Tower for your safety,” Jin Zixuan said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Beside him, MianMian was a study in forced stoicism.

Yanli’s mind raced. Clearly Jin Guangshan was trying some political maneuvering here, and she did not think he was so bald-faced as to want to simply turn Nie Huaisang over to Wen Ruohan. Did he want leverage on Nie Mingjue? Was he trying to lure Nie Mingjue into Lanling? Surely he knew that Nie Mingjue’s own general would not simply turn the sect heir over to the Jin on a whim.

Jin Zixuan coughed again. “Your caravan can continue on, if you feel it safe to do so, General Nie. However, my father was direct in his command that I bring Nie Huaisang back with me. He’s very concerned for his safety.”

“As am I,” Nie Meitong said, his expression stern and his tone of voice nearly flat. “My orders are to bring him to Tangshan. With all due respect, Young Master Jin, the direct orders given to me by Sect Leader Nie concerning his own brother and heir outweigh your father’s concern.”

“It is a very complicated political situation. I understand that.” Jin Zixuan nodded. “But we both know there is nothing to stop Wen Ruohan’s troops from simply following you to Tangshan.”

Nie Meitong let out a slow, even breath, and Yanli thought it was the first time she had ever seen him close to losing his temper. “Even so, my orders are clear. If the Jin wish to join the escort in order to ensure that we arrive to Tangshan safely, we would welcome the support.” He spoke with bared teeth.

Yanli thought he might just pull out his saber and start a second front in the war if the Jin tried to grab Nie Huaisang, and could not really blame him. But they were outnumbered, and for all the jianghu often joked about how hedonistic the Jin were, no one argued with the fact that they were powerful cultivators.

Jin Zixuan looked frustrated but not surprised. Yanli instinctively wanted to step in and sooth ruffled feathers, but she was reminded of what A’Yao kept telling her, whenever they talked about politics: You are a sect leader, not a daughter or a furen or a disciple. Your job is to protect your own sect’s interests at all costs.

So, she stood there as a silent observer while Jin Zixuan tried to find a diplomatic way to carry out a kidnapping. There was a long quiet spell as he debated his next words, and Nie Meitong let him stew.

They all started when an ear-piercing scream erupted from somewhere along the caravan. Yanli whipped around in time to see one of the Nie soldiers get attacked by a Wen soldier. A dead Wen soldier.

“What the fuck is that?” Nie Huaisang screeched. Around them, Nie and Jin fighters re-armed themselves and started hacking at the dead Wen rising up from their deathbeds.

“Demonic cultivation! Wen Ruohan is reanimating the corpses!” One of the elders shouted above the din of people screaming and fighting.

Nie Meitong slashed at two fierce corpses, beheading one and chopping the arm off another, but neither Wen fell. Even the headless one kept walking, arms out, bloody and grasping.

“Shit shit shit!” Nie Meitong shouted before using his saber to send a ferocious sword glare of power out like a wave, bowling down people and corpses. “Nie! Grab who you can and get up in the air! Now!” He used his qi to amplify his voice again and within moments, a bunch of Nie had taken to the air on their sabers, holding one or two people each as they rose up out of the fighting. There were still too many people on the ground, though.

Yanli felt herself being picked up and held tightly as she was pulled into the air. “A’Yao! Second Mother!”

“We’ll look for them!” Jiang Minhao yelled from behind her. There was a lot of yelling as people ran for safety. Yanli saw that Jin Zixuan had grabbed Nie Huaisang, and Nie Meitong was clutching the two elders who had still been near them.

“There! There!” She pointed at where A’Yao was standing in front of his mother and the wet nurse, his cane held out.

“Wait!” Nie Huaisang shouted, slapping at Jin Zixuan’s arm around his waist. “Wait! Hold on! They aren’t attacking non-cultivators!”

Yanli held her breath as she looked down, fearing the worst.

“I’ll be damned, they really aren’t,” Jiang Minhao said.

“For now,” Jin Zixuan added, drifting closer to where they hovered.

“It gives the civilians a chance to run for safety, though!” Nie Meitong yelled over the din.

A’Yao seemed to figure it out the same moment they did, lowering his cane. He looked around, then up. “Go! Get to safety!”

“I won’t leave you!” Yanli tried to fight her way out of Jiang Minhao’s hold, but it was pointless because she was nowhere near strong enough. She looked desperately around, but Jiang Wu was already carrying Liu Peng and Jiang Yimin was nowhere to be seen. She prayed he was not already dead.

“They’re only targeting cultivators! They might have backup on the way! You need to leave!” A’Yao shouted. Yanli screamed as a fierce corpse came up behind him, only to get sliced in two by Lan Wangji. He was still in his mask, and using his old Wen sword to keep the dead Wen away from the civilians, who were starting to cluster around A’Yao and Meng Shi for protection. The fierce corpses weren’t attacking them unless they were in the way, but it was still too close for anyone’s peace of mind. Lan Wangji and a few of the cooks turned to clearing a path to the woods for people to escape.

“A’Yao!” She yelled again in frustration.

He grimaced in reply, then turned his eyes to Jiang Minhao. “Get our sect leader to safety!”

“No!” Yanli shrieked, struggling in her hold.

“Young Master Jin! We need to retreat! Our presence only puts the civilians in danger, and by leaving we might draw the monsters off!” Nie Meitong said, then turned to face the caravan. “Civilians! Scatter and make for Tangshan! Leave what you can’t carry! Nie Cultivators! Grab our elders and wounded! Follow me!”

“Jin! To me! We retreat!” Jin Zixuan shouted a moment later, and then they were all flying away.

Yanli’s last sight of the caravan was A’Yao leaning on his cane, shouting orders to the people around him, one hand clutching Meng Shi’s arm, while Lan Wangji plowed through fierce corpses like a whirlwind, refusing to leave with all the rest of the cultivators. She hoped it would not be his last stand.