I really do think mianmian and lwj deserve to be like, close friends. from their meeting in the show it doesn’t seem like they ever saw each other after jinlintai and i have no idea when they would’ve gotten the chance, but just afterwards, you know?
yes, I think they definitely deserve to be friends! One of things I always found troubling about these novel based xianxia dramas is the lack of sustainable friendship beyond the main romance line. I guess in order to create angst and emotional investment for the audiences, a lot of times, friendship get sidelined or destroyed when characters die or betray each other. As well, most non-romance relationships that we see lasting to the end of the story are family relations and sometimes servitude (aka a lackey that hangs on until the end). Real friendships where both parties are roughly on equal footing and station rarely last in these epic adventure dramas. You couldn’t even say Wen Ning is Wei Wuxian’s friend of equal station, not when Wen Ning doesn’t call Wei Wuxian by his name, just “young master”. Perhaps this is to isolate the main character, who knows. Even so, friendship between men is portrayed more frequently than friendship between women, or men and women.
So with your prompt, it inspired me to write a little something Luo Qingyang centric, ft our Hanguang-jun and juniors.
~~~
Lanling Jin’s entourage stood by the gates of Cloud Recesses, patiently waiting for their admission. What seemed like a life time ago, Luo Qingyang had been on these same steps with Jin Zixuan. She’d been a girl then, barely bloomed, barely grown. Life had been simple, and she had thought she knew what the future would hold.
So much had come to pass, yet these grand arches, white granite stone pulsing with spiritual aura, never seemed to age.
She glanced down at her Jin Clan robes, the pale yellow and white, embroidered with peonies and a strip of blue accentuating the lapel edge. She never thought she’d wear these colours again. Her mother had been a Jin, first cousin of Jin Guangshan. Once upon time, she’d been proud to be one of them, to be part of a powerful and wealthy clan. Then the war came and went, like the debriding of a wound upon their world that revealed the flesh underneath had caseated to the bone. She’d been so disillusioned, so aggrieved by her elders and disappointed by her peers.
Even Zixuan.
He had been a good man, her cousin. But he wasn’t strong of heart nor clever of mind. She was sorry to know he had died, but she wasn’t surprised. If he could not see the game his father had been playing, then there had never been any hope for him.
Luo Qingyang glanced towards the youth in front of her just slightly to the right. From the view of his back, she could almost picture his father, standing there with Suihua in his clutch, a proud son of the house of Jin. Time seemed to fluctuate, the eighteen years between then and now barely a drop in the ocean. If she breathed deeply enough and closed her eyes, she could almost be Mianmian again, could almost see Zixuan again.
This was the first time Jin Ling had come to Cloud Recesses without his jiujiu. The boy was rightfully nervous, but this push towards independence was necessary. Sooner or later, baby bird had to learn how to fly. Like his father, Jin Rulan had a kind nature, even if he was awful at expressing his feelings. He was young, but the burden on his shoulders were heavy. For the mess that was the Jin Clan post Jin Guangyao's demise to fall into Jin Ling's lap was the best and worst case scenario. If he hadn’t risen to occasion, the subsidiary sects - vultures circling a carcass- would’ve torn Lanling apart.
Perhaps that was why Luo Qingyang had agreed to return to her mother clan.
Wei Wuxian had arrived at her doorsteps one day some months after the incident at Guanyin Temple. Even on the outskirts of Yiling where she had lived, she had received news of what had happened. Wei Wuxian explained he’d been travelling, but between his subtle hints and unsubtle nudges, she had understood his intentions.
Jin Ling had no one to help him man the helm. Jiang Cheng could only do so much without the other sects accusing him of overreaching into businesses beyond Yunmeng’s jurisdiction. Jin Ling was Jinlintai’s heir, not Lotus Pier’s, a fact that most people had slowly forgotten over the last decade. Childless, Jiang Cheng’s seat would one day go to his prime disciple, but not to his nephew.
“Lan Zhan had written a decree for you, in case you encounter trouble going back. It’s a lot to ask for, I know. You’ve got such a lovely home here. But...you are needed, Mianmian, if you could forgive them.”
Forgive them? Luo Qingyang sighed. What’s there to forgive? She had left of her own volition, married well, and had a wonderful family. Her husband grumbled a bit about moving to the big city, but in the end he followed her back to her clan, just like he did to her night hunts. Her husband had been a merchant once, and she had no doubt he would thrive in Lanling. So far, she had not been proven wrong.
“I am Jin Rulan’s biao’gu*. He is as much your nephew as he is mine. Tell His Excellency that I will return to Jinlintai shortly. He can be assured Sect Leader Jin will not be alone.”
Lan Sizhui, Gusu Lan’s Head Disciple greeted them at the gates with a deep bow. Like his de-facto cousin, Sizhui had grown taller and more mature.
“Welcome, Jin-zongzhu, Luo-zhangshi*, and honored guests. Cloud Recesses thank you for your patience. Please, come with me.”
He gave Jin Ling a private smile, and the latter perked up immediately. “Lan-gongzi, you’re too kind. It’s been some time since we last spoke. I trust His Excellency is of good health and spirit?”
“Hanguang-jun is very well, thank you Jin-zongzhu.” In a lower tone, Sizhui commented. “I would’ve visited Lotus Pier with Wei-qianbei last harvest, but I was sent to Qinghe for sect business.”
Boys playing at being men.
Luo Qingyang hid a smile, slowing down her steps to give the youngsters some privacy from the party that followed them.
Such innocence. How lovely it was. The boys she’d known were forced to grow up amidst fire and chaos, and did so in such brutal, unimaginable ways. So many had died, and those who had lived would never get to experience their ‘what-could’ve-been’s.
~
After, when the official businesses were settled and the disciples were dismissed, Luo Qingyang and Lan Wangji sat together in a quiet pavilion. Sizhui and A-Ling were some distances away down the lang, standing a reasonable distance apart and conversing politely. Though, it was more than obvious that they were itching to shed their gentlemanly exterior and scurry off to whatever shenanigans boys their age got up to when their guardians weren't looking.
Lou Qingyang observed the man sitting across from her and found some irony in the fact that they were strangely similar. Though talented in cultivation, Lan Wangji was not the type she would’ve imagined being Chief Cultivator, and certainly she herself could’ve never imagined that one day she would be chief of staff of Lanling Jin.
Life dealt them both a funny set of cards and all they could do was keep playing.
“I know Wei Ying had delivered my message, but I want to thank you properly in person, Luo-zhangshi, for agreeing to come back. Those early days after Jin Guangyao’s death was...precariously to say the least. The situation at Jinlintai is much better now thanks to your efforts.”
“Hanguang-jun, we’ve known each other for a long time. Your husband has a scar on his chest from saving me from a Wen branding iron, and my daughter has received lucky money from the both of you. I think you can call me Miamian, if you’re comfortable with that.” She smiled, taking a sip of her tea. The scent of jasmine was calming after such a long, arduous morning.
Lan Wangji nodded, turning to his own cup. “We used to be classmates, now we are colleagues. Perhaps you are right. Formality in private is unnecessary.”
“As for coming back, it is my duty. Jin Ling is bright and kind. With the right guidance, Lanling Jin Sect will recover. I knew him, Jin Guangyao. He was... nice to me, most of the time anyways. Whether that niceness had any truth behind it, I don’t know, but even then he’d been so unreadable. I only wish I’d seen through it all sooner. So you see, there is no need for thanks, Wangji-xiong. We Jins have done enough wrong against your family. Pray, how is Zewu-jun?”
“Brother is still in seclusion, but he is no danger to himself. He is better now. Time heals all wounds. Though...”
Though knowing Lan Xichen, knowing what Lans were like when faced with tragic love, Lan Wangji wasn’t sure what his brother’s future would hold.
Luo Qingyang nodded, understanding. Suddenly, their tranquility was interrupted by a disciple rounding the corner, footsteps heavy and voice decidedly too loud.
“Sizhui, did you meet up with Young Mis -”
Lan Jingyi’s holler aborted immediately when he saw who was sitting in the pavilion. “Erm... Hanguang-jun, Luo-zhangshi...” Smiling sheepishly, he bowed.
“Sizhui.” Lan Wangji gave his son a pointed look, which the youth instantly understood.
“Ah, Jin-zongzhu. Perhaps you would like for Jingyi and myself to you show around? Cloud Recesses’ scenery is really one of a kind this time of year.”
“Yes, yes!" Jin Ling leaped to his feet from where he was sitting on the bench. He paused, casting a cautious glance towards his aunt, before clearing his throat and continuing in his most ‘adult’ voice. “Yes, I would like that. Lan-gongzi, Jingyi-xiong, if you wouldn't mind leading the way.”
Luo Qingyang and Lan Wangji focused their attention back to their tea cups, both turning a blind eye to the way Sizhui and Rulan all but ran to join up with Lan Jingyi.
They were out of sight in a heartbeat.
“Do you know who they remind me of?” Luo Qingyang tilted her head as a sense of deja-vu washed over her.
“Mn?”
“Wei-gongzi, Nie-zongzhu, and Jiang-zongzhu, during our guest disciple days.”
Our long summer.
“Mn.”
“Remember when they got drunk on Emperor’s Smile? They really were audacious even then.” Luo Qingyang reminisced with a fond chuckle.
“Yes. Uncle was furious.” The corner of Lan Wangji’s lips tilted upwards.
Was that amusement she detected?!
Mianman blinked, suddenly realizing, “Oh but you were amongst them too, if I recall correctly.” She gave him a sly smile. “The girls said you were discovered in a drunken coma in Wei-gongzi’s room the next morning. Is that true?”
“Yes.”
Oh the scandal! “How did they rope you into it?”
“I was willing,” confessed the venerated Hanguang-jun without so much as a blush. The shameless scoundrel!
Luo Qingyang laughed, the sound ringing like a clear bell that cut through Cloud Recesses’ tranquility.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore; he’s your husband now. For the record, we all saw it coming.”
Lan Wangji raised a quizzical brow. “Oh? I did not think it was obvious.”
“Well, not to the male disciples perhaps, but the female disciples, we all knew.” Luo Qingyang took a deep breath and sighed. “Sometimes I miss those days. Simpler times.”
“Mn.”
“My daughter has started cultivation lessons with the other children at Jinlintai. Someday she may visit here as guest disciple, as I once was. I hope her future will be a better one.”
She met his gaze steadily, and the understanding in between had no need for further words.
Lan Wangji smiled.
“That is my wish as well.”
~
biao’gu 表姑 = a type of aunt, a distant female cousin of one’s parent that’s in the same generation as them.
zhang’shi 长史= an antiquated government position that’s akin to Secretary General.
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