66. Shooting for the Sun

“Get in!” Nie Huaisang did something with his fan—one of Yanli’s fans, she noted with a drop of hysteria—and a strong gust of spiritually-charged wind pushed everyone into the room. He slammed the door shut and sealed it with a talisman.

Jin Zixuan looked like he could not decide what was more upsetting, his father’s corpse or being pushed around, while Luo Qingyang glared at Nie Huaisang. The three members of Jin Guangshan’s personal guard, on the other hand, had no qualms about unsheathing their swords and advancing on Yanli.

Still shaking, she pulled herself together and rolled her shoulders back. She would die unashamed and without regrets, she thought to herself as they came at her. Her brothers would avenge her.

Only to be taken aback when a powerful sword glare sent the guards bowling over. Yanli blinked to find Luo Qingyang standing in front of her, sword bright with power.

“Put your swords away!” Jin Zixuan hissed at the guards, but waved a hand at Luo Qingyang, who apparently understood that to mean he did not include her in the order.

“Young Master Jin!” One of them exclaimed as he rolled to his feet, sword still at the ready. “She murdered your father!”

“Did she?” Luo Qingyang snarled, pointing her sword at the guards. “Or was it self-defense?”

“She’s a bastard!” One of the other guards shouted, as if that meant she had to be a murderer too.

“I gave you an order!” Jin Zixuan shouted back, sounding surprised that they had not yet followed his command.

Yanli exchanged a glance with Nie Huaisang, who nodded at her in agreement, because neither of them was surprised that Jin Guangshan’s personal guards were more loyal to a dead man than that man’s ineffectual and politically sidelined son.

“Sang’er,” Yanli said far more calmly than she felt. “Give us some peace and quiet, please.”

She was not sure what he would do, only that he would do something. He nodded deferentially and then waved the fan around until brightly colored threads of spiritual power flew out and speared the three guards who fell down like puppets with their strings cut.

Jin Zixuan turned to him in horror. “Did you kill my disciples?”

“No! They are asleep! What kind of monster do you take me for?” He fanned himself aggressively.

“More like knocked out,” Luo Qingyang said, leaning over one and inspecting him carefully. She picked up his hand and then dropped it, and it thudded to the ground but the guard did not move. Satisfied, she turned to Yanli, and her expression changed. “Oh. Sect Leader Wei, I think you can put the, uh, weapon down,” she said softly, empty hands out in front of her like she was trying to tame a wild animal.

Yanli looked at her hand, covered in blood, some of it her own, she knew. “Oh. Oh, yes. It’s…it was a vase.” She dropped the shard and suddenly found it hard to breathe.

“Yes, it was,” Luo Qingyang said with the same calm, placating tone of voice. “May I approach you to check your hand?”

Yanli glanced over at Jin Zixuan and Nie Huaisang, who both looked extremely worried for some reason, before turning back to Luo Qingyang. “Yes, I…I think…I…” she lost her breath entirely and her knees gave out. Luo Qingyang caught her and dragged her over to one of the plush chairs, their feet smearing Jin Guangshan’s blood across the beautifully inlaid flooring.

Yanli stared at the blood on the floor and heard her own blood rushing through her ears like a swollen river after a dam burst open, sweeping her away...

At some point she came back to herself, blinking, feeling as if she was waking up. Luo Qingyang was holding a cup of tea in front of her, from where Yanli had no idea. She looked at her hand, which was wrapped up tight with undyed linen bandaging, no doubt from Luo Qingyang’s own emergency supply, and only a little drop of bright red had bled through.

“Are you back with us?” Nie Huaisang asked. He was standing behind Jin Guangshan’s desk, with Jin Zixuan peering over his shoulder at where they had laid out quite a bit of paperwork.

“I think so,” she said, her voice still shaky. She looked around. “What?”

“It seems that Daddy Jin—”

“Could you please not call him that?” Jin Zixuan grimaced, glancing over at the shrouded form on the floor. The blood was still there, fading to brown, but they had thrown a blanket over him at least.

“It seems former Sect Leader Jin was involved in some shady dealings with Wen Ruohan,” Nie Huaisang amended. “I can’t say I’m surprised, but it does make this situation a bit more politically delicate.” He frowned at the papers.

Yanli took a long sip of the tea, clutching the warm cup with both hands when she was done. “Whatever his crimes, I will be executed for this,” she said, still feeling a bit like her brain was floating through fog.

“Not by me,” Jin Zixuan replied with a heavy sigh. “The elders might quibble, but it was clearly self-defense.”

“She’s just the only one who managed to land a killing blow,” Luo Qingyang said, her jaw tight and eyes dark with anger.

“What?” Jin Zixuan looked shocked. “I mean, I know he dallied with some of the staff—”

“It was never dallying, Zixuan!” Luo Qingyang snapped, then promptly stood up and bowed. “Forgive this disciple’s disrespectful temper, Sect Leader.”

“MianMain, there is nothing to forgive,” Jin Zixuan said, one hand over his eyes. “I suppose I should have known. He’s never had…an honorable…reputation.” He sounded pained to say it, as if admitting the truth for the first time.

“Your father was a reprobate and a rapist,” Nie Huaisang’s voice was soft and kind despite the words he used. “That does not have to be your legacy.” He put a hand on Jin Zixuan’s shoulder. Surprisingly, Jin Zixuan just stood there, head bowed, for a long, quiet moment.

“Forgive me, MianMian, for not seeing all this clearly.”

MianMian looked incredibly awkward being apologized to by the sect heir—no, Yanli corrected her thoughts. The sect leader, now. Which brought up a more urgent issue.

“There is no hiding this,” Yanli pointed out, interrupting the heartfelt conversation.

“Hiding what?” Nie Huaisang said airily, his attention drifting back to the paperwork.

They all stared at him in various shades of confusion.

“The…body?” Yanli suggested.

“Oh, that.” He took a deep breath and put on a sincere-looking expression of grief. “Tragically, an assassin was hiding in the room and decided to strike when you were left alone with Jin Guangshan. Sect Leader Jin heroically died defending Sect Leader Wei, whose scream alerted the guards outside. Coincidentally, the sect heir was showing a fellow sect heir—me!—the southern rose garden nearby when we heard the commotion and ran to help. Entirely too late, sadly! The assassin got away unscathed. We are all quite upset about it, obviously.”

They all continued to stare at him until MianMian put her hands on her hips. “And the guards in question? Who definitively know for a fact that there was no assassin?” She waved an impatient hand at where the three guards were still laid out on the ground. One of them picked that moment to let out a snorting snore.

Nie Huaisang looked at Jin Zixuan. “Your choice. We can kill them and make it look like the assassin did it—”

“No!” Jin Zixuan reared back in disgust, which Yanli agreed with.

“Then your other choices are to either put a forgetting curse on them, or bribe them heavily for their silence and hope they aren’t working for your opposition.”

“My opposition?” Jin Zixuan looked confused, and Yanli traded another speaking look with Nie Huaisang. “You mean Wen Ruohan?”

“He means half the elder council, and your father’s cronies.” MianMian sucked at her teeth, thinking. “Jin Zixun, for sure.”

At his cousin’s name, Jin Zixuan grimaced. “He’s terrible, but I would not describe him as my opposition.”

It was Nie Huaisang’s turn to look horrified. “Are you completely unaware of the fact that he’s been building up a shadow coalition of supporters with the goal of challenging you for the Peony Throne? Are you genuinely that stupid?”

“He’s not stupid,” MianMian said, although she did not sound entirely convinced.

“Hey!” Jin Zixuan looked affronted enough for ten people.

“Zixuan, your cousin has been your opposition since I got here when I was ten,” MianMian said, shaking her head, then looked at Nie Huaisang with a clear plea for him to pick up the explanation.

“But how would you know what my cousin is doing?” Jin Zixuan glared at Nie Huaisang.

“Stop.” Yanli spoke loud enough to carry, and stood up when they all turned to her. “Jin Zixuan, they are both correct. I’ve been outside jianghu politics for five years and yet I know this much: with your father dead, there will be a contest between several factions to win the sect’s leadership. At least one of them will be friendly with Wen Ruohan, and at least one of them will want to stand against Wen Ruohan. I have no doubt Jin Zixun has plenty of support for challenging you.” At his expression of dismay, she shook her head gently. “Were you not taught about political factions and warfare?”

He looked down at the ground silently, so MianMian answered. “Mostly warfare, dueling, and night hunting. I think,” she paused, looking cautiously at Jin Zixuan for a moment, “I think Sect Leader, uh, former Sect Leader Jin purposefully kept him out of learning about or being involved in politics.”

“But Madam Jin is a Yu,” Nie Huaisang said in exasperation. “I don’t believe she’d stand for that.”

“Father did not like me spending much time with her, either,” Jin Zixuan said. He was staring at the blood drying on the floor, and he sounded defeated.

Nie Huaisang was looking at the Jin sect heir as if seeing him for the first time. “You really need help with all of this, don’t you?”

MianMian nodded, then shrugged when Jin Zixuan glared at her.

“Time is running out; we can’t let him just lay there for much longer,” Yanli broke into the conversation. She turned to MianMian. “Are you on good terms with Madam Jin?”

She nodded. “She likes a good fighter, always said I should have been born a Yu.”

“High praise indeed. Go get her, but don’t bring her here too fast. I’m sure she will support Jin Zixuan’s succession, but we don’t know how much power she’s actually got in the political landscape, so talk to her on the way. See if you can glean anything from what she says.”

MianMian bowed and walked out of the room.

“She’s very competent, isn’t she?” Nie Huaisang said breathlessly, fanning himself. Jin Zixuan looked at him in hurt confusion, and Yanli decided to ignore that whole subtext, forever if possible.

“Sang’er, you will help Jin Zixuan with the political situation here in Koi Tower for the foreseeable future. You’ll at least be safe from the Wen, which will make Nie Mingjue happy, and we need Zixuan on the Peony Throne.”

“My pleasure.” Nie Huaisang said with a slow drawl. Yanli expected a courtship announcement (or two) within a year. “Do you think we can claim the assassin was a Wen?” He asked, turning his attention to the papers on the desk again.

“No. But Jin Guangshan had enough enemies. Uncertainly about the perpetrator’s allegiance will not be suspicious, especially once Madam Jin is aware of the situation.”

“You plan to tell her the truth?”

“Probably, depending on the signs MianMian gives us. Either way, she’s going to walk in and see me like this,” Yanli said, gesturing at her robes covered in blood, and her bandaged hand.

“Good point,” Nie Huaisang said with a shrug.

“I’m not sure Mother will be very upset by this turn of events.” Jin Zixuan continued to grimace in the direction of his father.

“I imagine not,” Yanli said, trying to soften the blow, but in truth, Jin Zixuan himself did not seem to upset. She figured it was the Yu in him. “That still leaves the guards. Forgetting curses are not fool-proof.”

Nie Huaisang flicked a hand at the guards. “True, they break down if you try to erase too much. The trick is to tweak a memory with a few false facts. Even if the curse gets removed, they won’t be sure what is the real memory and what is the false.”

Yanli nodded approvingly, as Ying’er had told her as much years ago, but Jin Zixuan looked appalled. “How do you know that?”

Nie Huaisang blinked like a fawn. “I read about it somewhere?”

“Boys,” Yanli said, and they both straightened up and focused on her. “The real problem here is Wen Ruohan. He has either been counting on support from the Jin, or counting on you staying neutral.” She turned to Jin Zixuan. “Siding with us will mean becoming an enemy of the Wen. I must ask clearly: Are you ready for that?”

For the first time since he walked into the room to find his father dead on the floor, Jin Zixuan stood proud and determined, like the cultivator he was always meant to be.

“I saw the dead he raised to fight the Nie caravan. His wicked tricks are against orthodoxy and all righteous standards. I give you my word that my sect will not align with such a ruthless and craven man. Under my leadership, the Jin will stand with its allies against Qishan Wen.”

He bowed to her, lower than a sect leader should bow to another sect leader. Behind him, Nie Huaisang gave Yanli an aggravatingly smug smile.