"…xiong-zhang…xiong-zhang."

Lan Xichen blinked, facing his brother in mortification at his absent-mindedness. "Yes…Wangji. What is it?"

Lan Wangji briefly glanced up to meet his brother's eyes, and Lan Xichen was probably the only person in the world who could see the deep worry in his stony expression. But he soon glanced away. "Uncle was asking whether you could grade the reports for him this evening."

"Ah. Of course. Please tell him it's no problem."

Despite a lingering glance that implied Wangji did not entirely believe this response, he obediently left with it.

Xichen could not tell Wangji what was bothering him, a fact Wangji might already be at least unconsciously aware of, and thus he did not press it. Even Xichen did not know why at first. Wangji did not dislike Jin Guangyao. Even his uncle seemed to have no issue with him, a stark contrast to his every other breath being dedicated to the disdain of Wei Wuxian. It took Xichen some time apart from him to realize that there was nothing about Jin Guangyao which would make talking about him immoral or crude. It was his own feelings.

On his last night of helping A-Yao through his injury, Xichen had had a rather strange, vivid dream. Though he gathered it was a dream brought on by the alcohol he had mistakenly drunk that night, it was unique in that he remembered almost all of it. It had been at times amusing, at times incredibly painful, and at times pure joy. In quiet moments, he replayed parts of it in his mind, trying to discover what it meant, but also continuously drawn to the fleeting sensations.

He began to wonder if A-Yao's skin really felt so soft to the touch. If he would ever shed tears over him. If he were capable of those sweet words that Xichen half remembered in a muddled haze. Surely not, he thought, and yet…

He sighed heavily, resolving to train twice as long as usual in the Cold Pond this evening.

…

"…I have a devil whispering in my ear."

Jin Guangyao's words barely seemed to rise above the ambient noise of the empty room of the brothel in which he and Xue Yang waited, knowing Jin Guangshan was here and enjoying himself but that he would only be of a mood to leave once he had grown bored.

Xue Yang, absently picking at his fingernails, raised an eyebrow up at him. "Is that unusual?"

Guangyao took a breath to consider. "It is recent."

The young brigand smirked. "If the Lianfang-zun I know is one without a bad influence, I'd love to see you with one," he said, slipping into his commoner dialect and further offending Jin Guangyao's ears.

"If it were only bad, I do think I could keep in mind my ultimate goal and resist some amount of temptation," Guangyao said introspectively. "But this devil is a curious one. It tells me to do things against my own self-interest. Out of…sentiment."

"…I don't see the problem. If you feel it, just go with it. You're clever enough to keep yourself out of trouble even so."

Guangyao closed his eyes tiredly. "For you, my friend, such impulsivity may be acceptable."

"Ahh," Xue Yang replied with a grin. "I keep forgetting. You like to keep that prissy little face on, for everyone to see, don't you? Why do you care so much what they think? You know they're all just as fake as you are."

Of course, he was exactly right, in his own crude way. Why did anger flare inside Guangyao's chest to hear this? It even kept him from replying as he feared he would shout if he spoke at all. It angered him to be accused of wearing a mask, even though he had been doing that since he was a child. It angered him to hear that the world he had fought tooth and nail to be a part of was just as empty and false as he feared. And in a way he had not felt before, it angered him how much despair rose up amid the righteous indignation.

"…but Clan Leader Jin, you once favored an educated prostitute, didn't you? The lady Meng Shi?"

The two men fell silent as one of the prostitutes with Jin Guangshan addressed him using the name of Jin Guangyao's mother.

"Oh, she was beautiful," came Jin Guangshan's voice, clearly audible even through the wall, as he always spoke in that booming and overbearing way. "But you all had better learn from her mistakes. I dropped her because she had too much learning. Very unattractive in a woman. Women, especially women like you, only need to be concerning with one thing: service."

"So cruel!" replied the prostitute, though laughing playfully. "Didn't she give you a son?"

Xue Yang's gaze flicked over to Jin Guangyao. But Guangyao kept his trained to the floor, not permitting his body to move a single inch.

"Son? Ah…forget it, forget it. Let's keep drinking!"

Jin Guangyao concentrated very hard on keeping his expression neutral. It should not hurt this much. That was the only thing going through his mind for almost a full minute as he sat there, staring at the brothel floor. Intermittent images ran through his mind of all the trauma he had suffered, and the final one he had inflicted, in a place like this. All because that man in there couldn't keep it in his pants, and didn't like his whores to read.

Even though he was here to retrieve that contemptable man, Jin Guangyao got to his feet. He didn't even look twice at Xue Yang to see if he were following as he left the room and then then brothel entirely, shaking on his feet as he walked out into the street.

He had a strange feeling as he walked through the clamor of the city, with faceless forms drifting past him, that there was nothing left of him. He had done everything in his power to reach this point, expended all his energy, and done some truly horrific things. Each one had cost him a piece of his soul. Had there been any point to any of it? Would he always be, as far as the world and his family were concerned, a pariah, an afterthought, an unspoken shame, not even worth the smallest pity?

His feet eventually brought him in a wandering manner to a willow tree shading a quiet spot of river bank. As he stood beneath its gently swaying branches, watching the shadows move across the slowly flowing water, his thoughts turned to a serene, smiling face that he had consciously driven away. He nearly fainted with the force of pleasant and painful memories of being by his side, doing nothing but enjoying each other's company. He felt as if he had been cut clean in half by how much he wished to see his face, and how well he knew by now that such companionship could never be anything more.

Ignoring the damage it might do to the expensive sparks-amidst-snow he wore, he sank to the ground in defeat. He wished he were even able to cry, but no tears would come.

Unfortunately his silent lamenting was soon interrupted by an unwelcome presence, leaning against the willow tree behind him. "So?" came Xue Yang's bright but crude voice. "Now you know. Does it change anything?"

It took Guangyao much longer than usual to process these words. He felt numb. "I don't know," he answered honestly.

"…you're still going to get the Stygian Tiger Seal, though, right?" Xue Yang asked, suddenly seeming less amused. "If not you're going to make Carp Tower an awfully stiff and boring place for me to be."

"What? Oh…I don't know," he muttered dimly, not quite keeping up with the conversation.

Xue Yang sighed. "Well, work it out for yourself. You're useless like this, so I'm going to go find some amusement."

Grateful for his absence, Guangyao didn't bother worrying about dealing with the aftermath of whatever Xue Yang found "amusing." He sank back deeply into his own despair, thinking about what he had already done and the plans he had still in motion, and whether such a despotic tyrant as the one he had left in that brothel deserved one more drop of his sacrifice.

Looming in his mind in particular were three people who were in the direct line of harm from Jin Guangshan's ambitions, and indirectly his own. Jin Zixun. Wei Wuxian. And most of all, Nie Mingjue. With the possible exception of Wei Wuxian, these were all people who Jin Guangyao would be happy to be rid of. But the price of killing them suddenly seemed extremely heavy. And yet worthless.

He could not stop thinking about the few times that Nie Mingjue had fought for Jin Guangyao, instead of against him. The way he roared at his own men for their idle gossip about him. No one since his mother's friend Sisi had ever taken his side that way, and Nie Mingjue barely knew him at the time that he had done that. Then there was the way he had selflessly let him go when he said he still wanted to join the Jin, during the Sunshot Campaign. The pain Mingjue had tried and failed to hide at his loss. Jin Guangyao knew, even though it was painful for him to admit as well, that that Da-ge was not entirely gone either.

As he observed the waving willow leaf shadows against sparks-amidst-snow on his lap, he wondered how different things would be now if he had simply stayed with the Nie. Perhaps he would be competing with Kang Ruien for Nie Mingjue's affections, he thought with an almost-smile. Perhaps he would have similar recognition from the Nie as he now did from the Jin. But no, he realized, his brief amusement fading. Nie Mingjue still hadn't forgiven him for what he had done to get close to Wen Ruohan. Nothing would change that.

He glanced down at his right hand, which still had signs of his recent injuries. His thumb now had a slight bump where it had broken, and his nail still had a ren line running down it, though it no longer hurt. If he were permitted, would this hand play for Nie Mingjue again? Was he still capable of doing him harm?

When he returned to Carp Tower, fortunately he had dallied so long that Jin Guangshan got back before him, therefore Madam Jin had no reason to beat him again. However, his father had some words for him.

Apparently while left to his own devices, Xue Yang had gotten into a full blown street fight with Song Zichen, a young but powerful commoner cultivator known as the "distant snow and cold frost." The fight was only broken up by the timely arrival of Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan's companion and the "moon and cool breeze" to his frost and snow. Xue Yang had needed to be dragged back to Carp Tower by Xiao Xingchen, who requested that he be forbidden from leaving until his behavior improved.

"…I understand. A wise suggestion from Xiao Daozhang. I will speak to him in the meantime about his behavior," he told his father as he finished telling him all this.

Despite the transformative pain and anger he had experienced at this man's tossed aside words only hours before, his years of fear and awe of him prompted him to reply obediently without thinking.

Jin Guangshan nodded at first, but then looked his son up and down with a trace of suspicion. "I hear Clan Leader Nie's anger is getting under control."

Guangyao nodded, and by forcing himself, was able to form a small smile. "Yes. It is most welcome news."

"Hmph," Guangshan scoffed. "So then your little instrument might prove unnecessary."

A swirling cloud of dark emotions roiled inside Guangyao's stomach. "Perhaps. And if so, I will have to find other ways to be of service to him."

Not failing to understand Guangyao's meaning, the Jin clan leader flicked his chin up in a curt nod. "Well…see that you do."

The following day, Lan Xichen graced him with one of his now-rare visits. Jin Guangyao felt a strange uneasiness that he could not identify at the thought of being in close quarters with Xichen, and in particular hearing his guqin, while his heart felt so turbulent. But he had already refused him twice recently, and any more would risk creating a rift between the Jin and Lan, which in his current position Jin Guangyao could not afford.

While listening to Xichen play, various images arose in Guangyao's mind. While thinking of how much he missed Xichen's presence when he was not here, he thought of the way he had longed for him underneath the willow tree. And then bitterness, anger and despair at what he had overheard his father say. While thinking of everything he had put them through, as the music changed and became more reverent, suddenly Guangyao could think of only his mother's face. How long had it been since he had missed her so badly?

He had been listening to Xichen play for some time before he realized there were tears dripping steadily down his cheeks. Xichen usually played with his eyes closed or on his fingers, so he hadn't noticed. But then his song ended and he glanced up. He froze.

Guangyao could feel him staring. But what could he say?

Without a word, Xichen put aside his guqin and knelt beside Guangyao. He placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "What is wrong? Tell me," he said with unusual firmness.

He shook his head, pushing Xichen's hand away.

Xichen looked tormented. "I'm sorry. A-Yao, the pain that you are feeling…it is likely my fault."

Guangyao looked blankly down at the floor in front of him, trying to find the thread of Xichen's implication. But no matter how he thought about it, there was nothing. Lan Xichen had done nothing. Absolutely nothing, to anyone. He was such a moralistic pacifist it was almost a fault. With a questioning frown, Guangyao looked up at him for an answer.

Xichen met his gaze at first, and in that moment Guangyao saw fear and guilt in his serene eyes. But then his gaze lowered as he struggled to put words to what he had done.

"Your hand…do you remember? I helped you sleep in order to heal you," Xichen said, his voice quivering slightly.

Guangyao did remember. How had he forgotten? Likely the memory of Xichen drunkenly embracing him had blown away everything else. He would normally never let himself be so vulnerable in front of another person. But that said, if there were anyone in the world whom he thought he could trust not to hurt him, he would have thought it was Xichen. What was happening?

"I…I'm sorry," Xichen whispered again. "It wasn't my intention to pry. I only wanted to make sure there was no other place he had hurt you-"

"You examined my qi…without my permission," Guangyao summarized softly. And with this realization, a sliver of mistrust dug its way into his heart.

"Yes…" Xichen admitted. He closed his beautiful eyes in torment for a moment, and then began again, "I found a wound…an old wound, to your head. There was a place blood did not flow properly. I have been using these sessions to try to heal it."

Guangyao felt as if he were locked inside an ice flow, and yet his eyes were burning. Tears flowed until his head started to hurt and he felt sick to his stomach. He wasn't even sure why at first. The realization that, all this time, he had been a cripple. His mind, the one thing he had always felt was superior to others, had in fact been damaged. This was hard, but not nearly as hard as the emptiness that came with the realization that if he couldn't trust Lan Xichen, he was entirely alone.

Numb and trembling, he got to his feet.

"A-Yao!" Xichen said worriedly, standing as well.

"Don't touch me," Guangyao whispered, holding his hands out between Xichen and himself. He couldn't move for a moment, trying to think of what to say. But no words were adequate to describe what was happening inside him. He turned and walked toward his door.

But just as he was about to leave, there was a knock at the door, followed quickly by an excited voice of a servant.

"Lianfang-zun! Lianfang-zun! Lady Jiang has had her baby! You are an uncle! Come, come and see the baby!"

He could not have described the varied feelings that ran through him in a fraction of a second. An uncle? It took him a moment to even remember what that term meant. His brother had a child. Logically, that meant next to nothing. And yet warmth pooled inside his chest at the word. An uncle. He was someone's uncle.

"…congratulations," Xichen murmured softly.

Guangyao closed his eyes, wishing he could somehow transport himself far away. But this was not a moment he could afford to make a mistake. When he opened his eyes, he had found Jin Guangyao again.

"Tell my brother and Lady Jiang I am coming," he said to the servant.

"Yes!" cried the servant, and hurried off.

He turned partly back toward Lan Xichen, just able to meet his gaze. "Zewu-jun," he said. "Will you come and greet my…nephew?" His voice unintentionally hitched before the word. His cheeks felt hot with embarrassment, as he hoped Xichen hadn't noticed.

Xichen was silent for a moment. "A-Yao…if we could just talk a little more-"

"I have nothing to say," Guangyao said without emotion. But he felt guilty immediately after as he saw the despair he had caused on Lan Xichen's face by saying it. Softly, he added, "Please let one of the servants know if you wish to stay and greet the baby. Otherwise, farewell."

He left his quarters and went toward his brother's wing of the estate without looking back.