"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but don't you kids have to be in bed by nine?" Mimi asks the two young cultivators.
"Ohh, sorry, Lady Shen," Lan Sizhui begins slowly gathering books.
Lan Jingyi, Lan Sizhui, Dumplin, and Chen were sprawled about her living room studying for a test on all the techniques they had used so far in their cultivation lessons. After she had fed them a second dinner. Mimi had dutifully put a plate of cheese and meat slices in the middle of their circle. She had still nearly lost her hand in the process as the children attacked it with vigor. The children had been gathering in both the library and her residence for a couple of weeks now. Mimi shares a look with Mameki, disguised as a traditional parasol, and propped up on the kitchen counter.
Casting a privacy spell about them, she says dryly, trying not to move her lips, "I feel like we are slowly becoming outnumbered."
"Mameki think new cubs cute. Scary cultivators cute."
"Yeah, with the nag sightings about Cloud Recesses, maybe it would be wise to have them stay."
"We adopt cubs?" the parasol lightly shakes with Mameki's laughter.
"I think we already did," Mimi snorts, watching Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi interact with her cubs, "does it bother you keeping a low profile with them around?"
Mimi had been concerned about the parasol; lately, the creature did not venture out much, besides watching the cubs and cooking. Mameki had been quite excited when she told him that the clan leader had taken on helping her with the tasks.
"Mameki, not care. Mameki like having Mameki time."
Not really wanting to know what "Mameki time" consisted of, Mimi nods and cancels her privacy spell. Looking outside, she realizes it is quite dark out.
Mimi says contemplatively, "It's quite far to the dormitories, isn't it?"
Realizing their plan had worked, Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui grin at each other. Lan Jingyi says in a plaintive tone, "It is on the opposite side of Cloud Recesses, Lady Shen."
Seeing the look and realizing she is being played, Mimi says, "If I give you some protective wards, it will probably last you back to the dormitories. You should get moving. Chen, Dumplin, start getting ready for bed."
Her sisters pout, but they didn't want to argue with their older sister in front of their friends.
"Okay, Mimi," Chen says with a grumble, grabbing the empty plate and washing it swiftly.
Affectionately ruffling her hair, Mimi watches her two cubs disappear into their respective rooms. The young cultivators, trying another tactic, were continuing to slowly get their things ready to leave.
"Are the dormitories quite unlivable that you wish to spend the night?" Mimi asks and watches in impish amusement how the young cultivators' wince at being found out.
"No, the dormitories are very comfortable," Lan Sizhui hedges, looking up at her with a pleading look on his face.
"So, what is the problem that you two decide to come up with a not too elaborate plan for me to let you spend the night?" Mimi is tired and decides to cut to the chase.
Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi wince in almost synch, causing Mimi to chuckle, "I have two cubs, and I am older than I look, kiddos. If it's something bad, you can just tell me without having to resort to trickery. I am fairly reasonable."
The two cultivators look at each other uncomfortably before Lan Sizhui speaks, "I am sorry for trying to trick you, Lady Shen."
"I told him it wouldn't work," Lan Jingyi gripes, folding his arms over his chest petulantly.
"But it was your idea," Lan Sizhui says, looking betrayed.
"Cubs," Mimi squints at the sulking boys, "I don't care whose fault it is, but you better have a good explanation."
The cultivators share an embarrassed look, and Lan Sizhui says awkwardly, looking at Lan Jingyi, "It is . . . quite loud at night."
"Yeah, it's hard to sleep, and we have to wake up early," Lan Jingyi looks down at his hands.
"Have you told the clan leader about this?" Mimi asks, knowing full well the clan leader would undoubtedly take care of the issue.
"We didn't. . . I mean, we couldn't go to Zewu-Jun with this," Lan Sizhui says quietly.
"We wouldn't want to bother him with this. He has been so busy. It would just be another problem," Lan Jingyi says.
"Well, you are bothering me with it. Now spill," Mimi puts her hands on her hips in what Chen now referred to as her "strict mom" pose.
"Umm, well, it is just really loud sometimes, umm, we love Master Wei and HanGuang Jun, very much. We both do. HanGuang Jun and Master Wei raised me. But they are so very loud," Lan Sizhui says.
"Have you asked Master Wei and Second master lan to keep it down?" Mimi asks, not seeing the problem.
The two boys shake their heads very quickly, their eyes growing huge. Mimi is reminded of a couple of broken bobbleheads.
"Are they sparring or fighting?" Mimi asks, not really able to see the strange pair doing that.
Lan Sizhui blushes and shakes his head.
"No, because they are fucking all the time," Lan Jingyi blurts and instantly regrets it as Lan Sizhui slaps a hand over his mouth and immediately starts apologizing to Mimi, who nearly falls off her stool.
When Mimi finally recovers herself, she says kindly, "First and foremost, that is not a word we use in this household. I will only warn you of this once before I am washing your mouth out with soap. Secondly . . . do either of you have preferences on colors for your bedrolls?"
"You are going to let us stay?" Lan Sizhui asks hopefully.
Mimi nods as Lan Jingyi is still trying to process the lady before him threatening him with soap.
They both hurriedly get to their feet and bow to her.
"Come with me," Mimi beckons them to the other side of the house, and for the first time, the boys realize how "big" the residence is.
Not wanting them by her cubs or by her own bedroom, Mimi leads them down a corridor and touches a door. A light glow appears on her claws before she guides them in. The boys marvel at the incredibly spacious room with its own bathroom suite attached. The two beds in the middle of the room looked a hundred times more pleasant than the bedrolls they were used to sleeping on. The table between the beds had a couple of bowls of fruit for the children to snack on.
"I haven't actually stepped foot in the dormitories, so I am not positive how they look. I hope this is adequate," Mimi avidly watches their expression as they look around.
"I don't recognize this room, and I helped Zewu-Jun air out the residence," Lan Sizhui says with confusion.
"I just made it," Mimi says tiredly, not wanting to explain the trials and tribulations of magical engineering right at this moment.
They stare at her in shock before lowering their eyes respectfully. They had known she was powerful but had not expected this.
Mimi stares at the empty sidewall and waves her hand, creating a door, "My sisters and I keep different hours so you can use this to get in and out. And look if, while in the dormitory you guys . . . hear weird, unpleasant things at night, our door is open. Just come in through the backdoor. I intend to bring this to the clan leader's attention, but until then, you are more than welcome to stay."
Mimi contemplates the boys for a moment. Despite being over two hundred years old, Mimi is uncertain about how to proceed. She has only just gotten used to raising her cubs. If that. This is different. Mimi waves her hand, and a pile of extra blankets is set out on the table.
"Did you cubs need a nightlight or something?" Mimi asks as she is about to make her exit
Honestly, not even thinking they would even get this far, Lan Sizhui is very polite and says, "I am sure we will be fine. Thank you so much for allowing us to partake of your hospitality, Lady Shen."
She turns to Lan Jingyi expectantly. Lan Jingyi is delighted that they are getting free stuff and free food, and says, "Sure, Lady Shen. A nightlight would be great!"
Summoning a ball of foxfire, Mimi tosses it to the ceiling, creating a circulating night sky.
"Goodnight, cubs, just ask if you need anything," Mimi says as she makes her exit.
"Goodnight, Lady Shen," the two boys chorus.
When she leaves, the kids turn to each other, and Lan Sizhui says in a hushed tone, "I don't think Lady Shen is a cultivator."
"I am well fed and am about to get the best sleep of my life. Lady Shen could be a shinigami from the heavenly plains, and I couldn't care less."
"But listen, what if she is going to do something bad?" Lan Sizhui whispers.
Laying down experimentally on one of the beds, Lan Jingyi sighs in contentment before looking at Lan Sizhui, "If she was, why hasn't she done something already? I mean, come on, she has given nice gifts to our clan, she comes to all of our practices, she is very nice, makes Zewu-Jun laugh, feeds us well, and gives us free stuff! I say who cares!"
"But still," Lan Sizhui looks up at the stars on the ceiling, and his face softens.
"Look, I want her to stay! I mean, look at this sweet room!" Lan Jingyi practically squeals as he buries his face in his pillow.
Lan Xichen stops playing his jade flute and listens. There it is again. The sweetest sound he had ever heard. At first, he thought it had been a random songbird that had somehow appeared in Cloud Recesses. He had not thought about it very much. But in the last couple of weeks after the arrival of the Shen sisters, the strange song had evolved from simple bird noises to full-on lullabies spanning several minutes after a couple of months. Setting the flute down, he turns towards the sound.
Unable to sleep, Lan Xichen tiredly moves across the room and stares at the peony's watercolor portrait. He touches the gilt frame, and the wall swings out, allowing him to enter. He steps into the narrow corridor and walks into what used to be his inner sanctum. The song is stronger here. His studio is not large, but it gave him enough room to paint some of his smaller designs. After Guangyao was killed by his sword, Lan Xichen spent many days here copying the landscapes of Cloud Recesses that he had made at the capital in Guangyao's bed chambers onto these walls. So, he could never forget the love that almost was. But that was nearly two years ago. Lan Xichen covers his eyes, the song fading and beginning anew in a more hopeful tone.
How he had been fooled. Lan Xichen took Lady Shen's gift and holds it against the small window, trying to capture any natural light. He realizes belatedly that the song is coming from the trunk! Peering closer at the box, he notices the faint sketches of little nightingales on the trees. He smiles, holding it to his chest. Fingers itching, he picks up a paintbrush and cannot look at any of his current projects. The natural light is missing from his portrait of the old library pavilion drawn from memory. The leaves on the oval sketch of a maple tree did not beckon him. He pulls out a sketchbook and strokes the yellow cover. Opening it, he is once again looking upon his second brother Guangyao.
The sketch is made with charcoal. It is a simple thing, merely a side doodle of the Lanling Jin sect leader at his prime, right before his marriage. Sighing, he flips a page to another sketch; Guangyao had posed for this one. His long hair is tousled down over his shoulders. A simple gold clip of a peony lay in his hand, as if moments away from putting his hair up and darting out to fulfill his next task. The eyes had been the trickiest, Lan Xichen remembers, always sparkling. It was like trying to capture thunder.
Anger surges within Lan Xichen as he gently puts the trunk aside, seizes a tube of paint and throws it at the wall. Red paint smears across a peaceful image of the cold springs. Grabbing another tube, he throws it at the mountains. Lan Xichen grabs a painting knife and slices through the layers of paint on the wall. Why did he kill Nie-Mingjue?! Lan Xichen scratches and scratches until the knife breaks in his hand. Weeping Lan Xichen pulls the sketchbook out and tears it to shreds. His blood mingling in the charcoal. Lan Xichen finally throws the sketchbook against the wall.
He turns to his latest completed portrait. It was from that fated night. His heart bled and cracked as he stared at it. Guangyao is standing to the side, staring out at the rain from inside the temple. It would be hours later that Lan Xichen would kill him as Nie-Huaisang screams. He had been merely a tool for Nie-Huaisang's revenge for Guangyao killing his brother. Lan Xichen held the painting knife in his hand as he approaches the portrait, blood trickles down his wrist. Nie-Mingjue had been his brother too. In all but blood. So why hadn't he desired the same revenge? Lan Xichen raises the blade to destroy the painting but cannot do it. The image is far too beautiful. Guangyao is far too beautiful. Not able to look at his picture but unable to destroy it, Lan Xichen pulls a purple sheet out and drapes it over the portrait. Out of sight, out of mind. Having exhausted himself in his rage, Lan Xichen pads back to his room. He lays on the bedroll and stares up at the bare ceiling. The song of the nightingales continues to sing. Sad and faraway. Listening and turning on his side. Not caring about the cut on his hand. The melody is sad but familiar as if to say, it hurts now, but it will be sunrise soon. It hurts now, but wounds heal. It hurts now, but I am here. Listening to the variations of the tune Lan Xichen fell into a deep slumber.