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You are fifteen, the eldest son of the Qishan Wen Clan’s leader, heir to the grandest and most accomplished clan in the world. Servants walk on their knees before you to fulfill every request. From the beginning of your life, you’ve had prodigious talent and yet no one in Qishan works harder than you.
And yet, today you will never admit that you are jealous.
Yes, all the other boys your age are already friends because they attended the Cloud Recesses’ training together, the training from the weaker clan considered beneath you. So what?
You know you must prove yourself better than them during this discussion conference, and you can. Fuqin says that is all that matters, but something else fills your stomach when you see Yu Ziyuan and her maids beating Jiang Fengmian in a battle of archery until his servant steps in, when you see the genial Qingheng-Jun – already titled! – best everyone at archery, when that silly rogue cultivator Sanren-or-whatever-her-name-is turns out to have marvelous creativity in her shots.
They all laugh, bicker, sneer at each other. Like they are friends.
You might just envy them.
You try to comfort yourself with the fact that Jiang Fengmian needed his servant to best Yu Ziyuan – pathetic. That Qingheng-Jun was winning the sword contest, and everyone knows this might be his last chance to enter since Clan Leader Lan is sure to perish any day now, but he lost to his didi. For a moment, the silly stringent didi refused to defeat his ‘xiongzhang’, until the laughing rogue cultivator read the rules to him.
And then it is your turn to face the silly, stringent didi. Lan Qiren is young but his skills are sharper than anyone you’ve seen outside of the Wen Clan.
In fact, he could probably defeat many Wens.
Fuqin’s voice growls in your ears. You are not many Wens. You are my heir.
You achieve victory, and you know Fuqin will have something to say about the length of time it took, but nevertheless, you are the winner.
You turn to the next opponent, ready for the fight for the title of ultimate swordsman. To your shock (and not fear, your stomach just twists a little), it isn’t your ingenious cousin.
Your ingenious cousin, the one Fuqin says is like a second son to him, easily won his first round against Jin Guangshan, but now he has actually lost to Young Master Nie’s saber.
Well then. You narrow your eyes. It is time to avenge your cousin.
But after the match has gone on for an hour without end, you can feel your nerves fraying. Fuqin will have things to say, many things.
And with that thought, Young Master Nie’s saber lands an inch from your neck.
Fool! Your fear created an opening ! You scream internally, but of course, you’ve lost.
You bow gallantly, congenially, and accept the defeat as Fuqin watches with narrowed eyes.
You immediately storm away, to your room to accept the punishment you deserve.
The next discussion conference is in Qinghe. You are sixteen, and Fuqin’s voice echoes in your ears.
Entitled!
Thought you could laze your way to victory?
No more. You push yourself and push yourself and practice for days without sleep in the lead up to the conference. Even today, you withdraw from the discussions to practice in Qinghe’s rough terrain.
You will defeat this arrogant Young Master.
He is nothing compared to you. Fuqin has decreed so, and it is your duty to make his decrees reality.
You’re swinging your sword, admiring how much faster you are this year, when suddenly, your vision dims.
You see a wild boar, perhaps, rushing towards you.
You swing for it, and it changes into a bird before it narrowly dodges.
It must be a monster, or perhaps a yao. You swing again, but something feels off. You feel as if colors are faded and everything is too bright and there may be liquid streaming from your qiqiao.
Your vision blackens again, and you feel dizzy, and then you feel nothing but nausea. You are vaguely aware that you’ve slammed to your knees.
The creature rushes you, and you stab them, whomever’s poisoned you –
The Attacker strikes your meridians, and your vision ends.
You awaken on a bed of fallen leaves, a small fire crackling close enough to warm your cheeks.
Your head pounds, and your mouth tastes like you’ve swallowed a sword. You spit and sure enough, eject a mouthful of blood from your lips.
“You’re awake!” says a high-pitched voice.
You frown at the youth before you. He’s slender and mustachioed, dressed in the dark green and gold of the Qinghe Nie Clan – good heavens, him ?!
“Young Master Wen, you were in qi deviation,” he says mildly.
Impossible! You glare at him. “Qi deviation, or poison?”
“Qi deviation. We in Nie Clan are remarkably skilled at recognizing qi deviation.” He tilts his head, gives you a friendly smile. “I would have brought you to the medics, but they wouldn’t clear you for tomorrow’s rematch, and I suspect you’ve been looking forward to it. I know I have!”
Worry tinges your nerves. Fuqin will declare you unfit after all, will bring back one of the other sons –
“Or you’re just setting me up to fail tomorrow.”
“Nothing of the sort! I prefer a fair fight.” He’s still smiling, though now his smile is more sympathetic. “And image is part of that fairness, isn’t it, Wen Ruohan, ‘as coldness?’”
“Nie Xinyi, ‘harmonious heart.’ Well, that suits you as the smiliest person I’ve met,” you grumble.
“Astute.” He chuckles and holds forth a bowl of broth. “This should help settle your qi.”
You hesitate. Fuqin says to never let your guard down, but on the chance you actually did qi deviate and Nie Xinyi did save you, it can’t hurt. And you are hungry.
As if sensing your nerves, he pours himself the same broth. “Here, I’ll drink it with you.”
Later, Nie Xinyi will escort you to your ingenious cousin’s, who as a doctor will both confirm the qi deviation and ensure it will never happen again, and Nie Xinyi will promise to say nothing of this to anyone.
When you face each other the next morning, it takes less than half an hour for you to win.
The pride in Fuqin’s eyes is less than you expected, and it stings.
But for some reason, Nie Xinyi is still smiling when he bows in surrender, and it comforts you more than you expected.
You’re seventeen and you win again, but it takes nearly two hours.
“Did you spend all year preparing for me?” you sneer.
“Indeed!” he chirps, and this time, the both of you smile at each other, as if the both of you actually looked forward to seeing each other, to this moment.
You’re eighteen and the both of you spend more time together this discussion conference, exchange techniques, spar together in the lead-up to the battle.
He loses again, but vows to win next year, and you wonder if this is what it is like to have a friend.
You’re nineteen and it’s your last year as a junior. There’s laughter between you and Nie Xinyi throughout the battle, and no victor is declared for a day and a night.
When you win, many will say it was a technicality, that the Qishan Wen Clan arranged things, but Nie Xinyi will toss his head and call rubbish rubbish.
You decide to ask, then, tentatively, the first time you’ve made such a request of anyone not in your clan and by heavens you’re shaking and your palms are sweating when you ask him to night-hunt with you next month.
You’re twenty-one and this is the first time in hundreds of night-hunts you’ve not seen him smile.
Nie Xinyi leans against a tree, his expression weary. He explains that his father is dying. “A-Die has qi deviated three times in the last month. His journey will end soon.”
“But he is young,” you protest.
And that’s when Nie Xinyi swears you to secrecy, and he knows you can be trusted; after all, you are in his debt over your own qi deviation.
The truth of his family sabers is so horrifying it dizzies you.
“Your name… your parents named you ‘harmonious heart’… and yet you are doomed to such a fate?” You gape.
He nods, utterly serious. “I believe they hoped for better for me. But I am not so creative as to find a new way. Perhaps I shall have sons and daughters who can.”
“You had better. I would hate to have to follow you throughout the woods and save you repeatedly,” you bark, and his eyes light up again, because it’s the first time you’ve brought it up yourself.
Clan Leader Nie dies about three weeks later, and you attend the funeral to comfort your friend, the only person you actually call a friend.
He seems despondent, as you expected for a mourning son. What you did not expect was while the two of you sipped liquor together that night, Nie Xinyi confides that his father’s last request weighs on him. That he does not want to fulfill it.
“Fuqin asked me to marry Second Lady Lin.”
“Second Lady Lin! But she’s –” A giantess. The tallest woman in the cultivation world, a full head taller than Xinyi and yourself. Not a beauty. But she is… powerful and captivating in her ferocity.
“She’s kind and decent and most powerful. But I…” he gulps. “I wish to marry another. No, that’s not only true. I’ve sworn to marry another!”
You goggles. “Who?”
“Her name is Nuo-er.”
“Er…” You start. “Is she a servant?!”
He nods, eyes rimmed with red. “Though she has little in the way of spiritual powers, she makes up for it in kindness, in mercy, and in wisdom. So I must obey my father’s dying wish, but I… I promised Nuo-er.”
“Well.” You cannot fathom marrying a lowly servant – but if this is truly what his heart desires… “Then you must marry Second Lady Lin. But first, speak with Nuo-er. Explain everything. Assure her you will wait until the birth of a child with Second Lady Lin, then take her as your concubine. This is already a remarkable step for a servant and it may yet satisfy her, so long as she knows she is always first in your heart.”
You pause. “Unless, of course, she is already with child.”
Nie Xinyi shakes his head, face red as your robes. “Of course not.”
“Good.” You laugh.
He gulps. His face is flushed from wine and embarrassment. “I know little in… those ways.”
You eye him. “Surely you’ve seen picture books.”
“I have not.”
You scoff. “You are going to marry a woman like Second Lady Lin and have no idea what to do?”
“I was told… instinct…”
You cannot bear to hear this any longer. “She’ll wish for a divorce that very night!”
“She can’t be displeased. I… have to please her so she doesn’t suspect Nuo-er…”
You roll your eyes. And then you grab him, haul him towards you with your special Wen power, and kiss his stammering lips long and slow. You open your mouth, and instruct him to move his tongue inside.
When he pulls back, the both of you are panting.
“Is that… good?” he squeaks.
“Sufficient.” You wipe your mouth of his saliva. “Practice.”
Over the next few months, while he delays proposing and speaking with Nuo-er, you and he continue to visit often.
He frets about hurting Second Lady Lin, so you allow him your body in a way you’ve never allowed anyone before, never dreamed of anyone touching except for him and those dreams you have ignored.
When he sees you wince and doesn’t believe it doesn’t hurt, you return the favor to him. The two of you lie skin-to-skin in the Palace of Sun and Flames, in the Unclean Realm where he weeps like a boy for his father, and you don’t ever call it love.
(But then, you never called it friendship before).
There’s a part of you (and you tell yourself it’s a small part but you know it is not), that hopes it is not grief and a fear of breaking Nuo-er’s heart that leads to this delay in marriage. That a part of him wishes to marry you.
(But these are dreams a clan leader and a future clan leader can never have).
Your affair ends when he is engaged and wed within a month. Soon you, too, marry the lovely Yao Miqiu. She’s wonderful despite an obnoxious brother who clearly desires favors from the Wen Clan’s power. But you do love her, and you do call it love, even though there are times you wake up dreaming of someone who is not her.
When Yao Miqiu and Second Lady Lin are both with child, the four of you spend days night-hunting and discussing names.
You (with much assistance from your wife, if you’re honest) pick a courtesy name for his firstborn. Mingjue , bright jade.
Nie Xinyi picks a birth name for yours: Xu , rising sun.
They are born within a fortnight of each other, and though you know Fuqin won’t approve of such familiarity, you and Nie Xinyi dare to hope that Nie Mingjue and Wen Xu will be the closest of friends, sworn brothers.
Your second child comes soon after, and Nie Xinyi names him Chao , dawn, for the new era of the Wen Clan that will rise with you.
In the following year, Nie Xinyi finally takes Nuo-er as his concubine and you cannot help but admire (and feel jealous) of their happiness. When Second Lady Lin perishes in a night-hunt that takes Cangse Sanren and the Jiang Clan’s servant and many other prominent cultivators, you step in to provide full support to those scandalized that a concubine could become a proper wife.
Nuo-er is not beautiful like Yao Miqiu nor imposing like Second Lady Lin, but she is a friendly, practical sort that undoubtedly attracts the heart of Nie Xinyi. She invites you to choose a courtesy name again, and you choose Huaisang to express your hope that he lives a long, comfortable life.
Then it happens.
The Zhao Clan launches their attack. They’ve been dumping bodies for years to create a Waterborne Abyss, and you find yourself in the fight of your life in the middle of the water.
Your father is the first to die, and your ingenious cousin insists you flee.
You refuse, and your cousin is devoured before your eyes.
The creature goes for you next, but just then, the crimson light of a familiar saber arrives and strikes it away from you.
“Clan Leader Wen!” Nie Xinyi shakes you.
Yao Miqiu has been defending the children despite her own swelling stomach, and Nuo-er puts her limited skills to use, comforting the Chao-er, who screams and wails, and Xu-er, who watches it all with the solemn face of one who does not fear death (he is eight).
But though the Waterborne Abyss is beaten back by the combined forces of Wen and Nie, the Zhao Clan has not given up.
Your children scream, and suddenly they are thrown into your hands, and a head rolls to your feet.
Nuo-er.
Nie Xinyi collapses, and you hold him while he screams, because his wife, his true love, has died to save your family.
Yao Miqiu is covered in blood but alive, lying besides the body of her friend.
In the aftermath, you share in Nie Xinyi’s grief. Yao Miqiu delivers the child too early, and she perishes as well.
In the aftermath, you are hastily appointed Clan Leader, and waste no time: you vow to raise the children of your ingenious cousin, who are similar ages to Xu-er and Chao-er.
In the aftermath, you realize why Fuqin was so fearful: there are traitors and whisperers and more sowers of discord than not. You will have to be cautious like never before.
In the aftermath, you and Nie Xinyi have your first argument. He objects to your insistence on wiping the entire Zhao Clan out, and the two of you exchange furious words.
You win in the end (or so you call it; nothing about this tragedy has been victorious). You round up the clan to execute them when you see the youngest son dutifully stand before his father, protecting that evil man to the end.
His dutiful nature reminds you of Nie Xinyi.
So you spare him, Zhao Zhuliu, and grant him work as a bodyguard.
Nie Xinyi smiles at you, and you think perhaps he is right, that mercy is worthwhile, that even if Fuqin will not forgive this kindness, the intelligent Yao Miqiu and laughing Nuo-Er will.
When Xu-er and Mingjue approach the age of fifteen, you know they’ll be invited to the Cloud Recesses, and you intend to encourage Xu-er to attend. To befriend his peers, despite your fears; it will be good for him.
Shortly before, you are gifted a saber by your sons, a tribute to your closeness with their beloved uncle.
And another cultivator insists on telling you that Clan Leader Nie will not think highly of it.
Your back prickles. Clan Leader Nie will not care. This man is insinuating something else – a desire to sow discord.
You summon Nie Xinyi quickly, to warn him. After the attack of the Zhao Clan, you will never, ever take threats lightly again.
But you find Nie Xinyi unlike you’ve seen him before (the tragedy has changed the both of you, yes, but this is different). He rants and raves about the audacity of this man, even expresses a desire to preemptively wipe him out.
It’s not that you’re against elimination of potential threats (in fact, it has become your immediate response).
But it disturbs you to see your – the closest person to you – act like an angry stranger. Express bloodthirst he once cautioned against.
“What is the matter with you?” You finally demand.
(Where are your smiles?)
Clan Leader Nie glowers at you. “What is the mater with me? Shall our sons die next, rather than our wives? Shall we die, and have our sons be orphans before their time? How can you be so calm?”
“One of us needs to be,” you retort. “I’ve seen Mingjue already. Have you not noticed how stiff and unyielding he insists on behaving? You knew all those years ago how my father pushed me to qi deviation, and yet you have no fear of doing the same to your son, who is at much higher risk?”
Clan Leader Nie’s face is shocked. Then he bows his head, and once more, you are stunned when Nie Xinyi begins to cry.
“It’s the saber spirit. Good heavens, Ruohan, I hardly recognize myself,” he whispers.
(You knew the answer of course, but you didn’t want to believe).
“Give up your saber. The Wen Clan can protect you,” you insist.
“And stop training Mingjue? How can I? He is still so young.” He turns red eyes upon you. “I can only hope I last long enough to see him grown.”
No.
No more loss.
“Give me your saber,” you demand.
He hands it to you without a second thought, only to explode a moment later with such rage you must bind him with spiritual qi.
You depart his quarters, examining the saber. You try to find a way to fix its resentful energy. Even bring it to Wen Qing – if anyone can find a way, your beloved cousin’s daughter can.
But the next day, she admits even she cannot.
But he needs to raise his sons.
(You can’t lose him).
He won’t be around long, you are certain. He’s acting like his father acted a week before he died.
So you make a choice. If he does not have the strength to end this, you do.
You strike the saber. It won’t show, of course, that you used spiritual qi, not until something else clashes with it.
That night, the two of you lie together again, for the first time in years, and you think it though you don’t dare say it.
(Love).
Only love would lead you to betray Nie Xinyi in such a way to break his saber.
“A word, Fuqin?” Wen Xu looks troubled as he enters your study a month later.
You look up. “Speak.”
“Nie-Shushu has been incapacitated this month after his saber broke in a fight with a beast. He was gored through by its horns.”
You leap to your feet. “And I was not told?”
Wen Xu winces. “They say Nie Mingjue saw the entire thing, is blaming you, mobilizing his clan against you.”
Your heart stops.
His saber broke in a fight…
You idiot! You want to scream. Nie Xinyi, you didn’t break it in a spar? Don’t you spar with your boys?
(Or perhaps with the saber spirit, he considered spars worthless, considered only night-hunts, the most bloodthirsty events, worthwhile).
“What shall we do?” Wen Xu bites his lip, a habit you’ve failed to get him to stop doing. But since it’s his only bad habit, you’ll let it go for now.
“Seize those spreading the rumors. I will visit Clan Leader Nie,” you declare.
And you do visit, with Nie Mingjue refusing to look at you the entire time. You accept it due to his youth, but he also refuses to leave you alone with his father.
You enter the room anyways. You are a Wen, a powerful Wen, and Nie Mingjue is but a boy.
“Nie Xinyi –”
“Get out! You monster! You’re the horn,” screams Nie Xinyi, spittle flecked at his lips. He’s gaunt and pale and looks more like a walking corpse than you.
You strike his meridians, lend him spiritual energy.
It does no good, and you must leave soon to clean up another of Chao-er’s scandals.
He dies when you leave.
You choose to attend the funeral, and Nie Mingjue sees you afterwards.
“Why did you break the saber?” he demands.
You sigh and decline to answer.
( I loved him is not an acceptable reply, you know).
“It does you no good to ask these questions." You echo your Fuqin. "You’re a Clan Leader now. No weaknesses can be shown.”
His jaw tightens, and you see his youthful desire to fight, but you rest assured that you named him, this Mingjue, that he is your nephew in all but blood, that he will understand in time.
But Nie Mingjue never asks. Rumors of his tenacity, his irascible nature reach you, and you only visit one more time, only to be denied entry.
It’s then you realize that it may be Xinyi’s spawn versus your own. Wen Xu cannot be permitted to go the Cloud Recesses; it isn't safe. You do the only thing you can do to teach him a lesson: impose more restrictions. Surely with his brother disciplined and with his home under supervision, the little Nie leader will quiet his temper before he qi deviates or is assassinated by his own men.
It backfires.
(That is an understatement).
Disbelief crosses your face. Your wine crashes to the ground.
Xu-er was killed in battle by none other than Nie Mingjue. The boy you named has killed the boy his father named.
Your boy.
Your eldest boy is dead, the child who took after you in valiance and Yao Miqiu in intelligence, the boy on whom you pinned your hopes and dreams.
Not just dead, but body and soul ground to dust.
You collapse to your knees and wail.
The Fire Palace is the only option for you. Every Nie soldier who was captured, every rebel will pay for what was done to Wen Xu, no exceptions. If Nie Mingjue wants to betray his father’s memory, you will show him no mercy for such disrespect!
(That you are betraying his memory by torture, by your lack of mercy, is not something you wish to consider).
What you don’t know is how when Xu-er’s body fell, invisible hands rescued his soul, pieced every piece back together.
One week later, the news worsens. You lose another son.
Wen Chao lied to you that he killed the Wei brat. Chao-er was ever the sort to lie for favor and thus rarely obtain favor.
His body is in condition so bad that you order the man who informs you tortured in the exact same way, and when the torturer refuses to make the man eat his own flesh, you find a new recruit who will, the Jin bastard with a grudge against his pathetic father.
What you don’t know is how when Chao-er was tortured to death, invisible arms wrapped around him in comfort, and invisible tears splashed down his face.
Finally, finally, vengeance is nigh.
You glare at the Nie boy, the instigator of all of this (it wasn’t you). He looks young and yet unafraid despite his hopeless situation. There is no room for fear amidst all the hatred shining on his face.
He’s almost pathetic in his indignation that Meng Yao kills those who insult you, but keeps him alive presumably for your sake.
Meng Yao mocks Nie Mingjue’s saber, and you shift forward when Nie Mingjue reacts with rage.
Not Meng Yao, too. No more people will die for that saber! Those horrible sabers.
You’ve often wondered if you can kill Nie Mingjue, the boy you named. You do not think you can.
You can allow him to be killed, but not yourself.
He flies towards you, and you have no choice but to use one of your own servants as a shield.
Tears spring to your eyes. How dare this Nie whelp cause this!
No more death!
With a single punch, you easily dispatch him without even lifting a sword. He lies at your feet, several cun into the tiled floor, too spent to whimper.
“He’s the one who killed Wen Xu?” Ypu know the answer, but you want – need – to hear Meng Yao say it again, so you can kill him without the guilt destroying you.
“Yes. Are you going to kill him now? I don’t think that’s the way to do it,” cajoles Meng Yao. “I suggest the fire palace.”
“What’s the use when he’s already half-dead?” You hear your voice ask, and you wonder when it became your voice, when you became this man who enjoys torture and pain.
“He’s very strong. He could be mighty again in a few days!” Meng Yao begs, and something feels off, but you’re too disembodied to care.
“Do with him as you like,” you sniff. You may not wish to save him, but something about executing the child you named hurts even more than killing his father.
“Yes,” breathes Meng Yao, and then –
You feel a sharp pain on your neck, feel the warmth of blood splatter, and your head doesn’t feel quite attached –
Jin Spawn!
You fall, you and your clan with you, towards the jet stone floor. You know the last thing you’ll feel is a violent thud that will probably knock your head off your neck.
But instead, what you feel is hands .
Hands catch you, and you gasp when you look up.
Xu-er and Chao-er.
“Why are you here?” you snap. Your children ought not to see you die!
“Because he was there for us,” Xu-er replies with earnesty as they lift your soul from your body, as hun separates from po. “He sent us.”
He doesn’t have to say who he is.
You know, and it strikes you deeper than any guqin string to sever your head.
You whip your head around to the scene, to Meng Yao lifting Nie Mingjue’s unconscious body, and the Jin Spawn shakes with exertion because he is simply too small.
And then invisible hands help position their son on Meng Yao’s back, hold him up.
Hands invisible to Meng Yao, but not to you, not to Chao-er, not to Xu-er.
Nie Xinyi stares back at you, just for a moment. There’s no judgment in his eyes (there never was), just sorrow.
What became of us?
The two of you are merely men who died, like many in your families, like many you victimized.
You thought you saved him in his insanity all those years ago, but perhaps – perhaps you were the one who lost his mind.
He turns away, holding his son up, helping the traitor escape. Leaving you.
And you should let him.
But if he saved your sons, then –
Though you don’t deserve it, you reach out anyways.
(Because it’s called love).