"That is why you should not play anywhere near dogs. The end," Mimi finishes, putting the book down and staring expectantly at Dumplin.
Clapping wildly, Master Wei interjects, "Wonderful moral, Lady Shen! A fine tale as always."
Squinting at Master Wei, who is sitting quite snugly next to his cultivation partner. Mimi dryly retorts, "My sister asked me to read the last line of this book. I undoubtedly agree with you, Master Wei, but that is all there is to it."
The group sat comfortably in the library. Chen sat near her sister's feet with Dumplin snuggled close to her for warmth. Mimi glares out the window at the little tufts of snow falling to the ground. As a rule, she hated snow. She had gone out of her way to move to where she would never see it again for decades. Until now, apparently. The only thing preventing her from using her foxfire as a makeshift snowblower is that her cubs had never seen snow before and were delighted by it. They had extracted a promise from her to help them build a snow person as soon as there is enough snow. Mimi prayed that day would never come. At least it hadn't started snowing during the task.
Mimi lowers her hand to ruffle her sister's hair. First one and then the other. Dumplin looks up at her and smiles. Mimi adjusts her new forehead band, making it straight. After bonding with the clan leader's brother and Master Wei, both her siblings had shown up at the residence with identical forehead bands. Mimi had been taken aback at first, but the two girls were nearly over the moon as they showed her the forehead bands. She figured it was a cultivation thing and had not thought about it too much.
The clan leader sat at his desk and casually graded papers. With Lord Qiren under the weather, it fell to him. He did not mind; in fact, it gave him yet another reason to spend time in the peaceful quietude of the library. Grabbing another book from her small pile, Mimi quietly reads, subtly bookmarking the page for annotating later. Reading completely unbelievable facts regarding her kind struck her as sardonically funny, but Mimi glances again at the snow. Today was not one of those days.
Snuggling close to his cultivation partner reading a novel, Wei Wuxian observes the couple before him. He nudges Lan Zhan in the side and leans in close to his ear, "We're we this bad?"
Looking over the pages of his book, the cultivator follows his partner's gaze.
"Watch Lan Zhan. This is better than your book."
True to his word, Lan Zhan watches with interest as his brother subtly glances at the Lady Shen before looking down at his paperwork. As if sensing she has an audience, Mimi looks over at Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan, who quickly pretend to look engrossed in the same book, before smiling at the clan leader and resuming her book. Peeking out from behind the book, Lan Zhan and Wei Wuxian watch this pattern for several minutes. The couple narrowly missing each other's gaze by seconds.
"I repeat, Lan Zhan, we're we this bad?"
"En."
"You do realize that if Lady Shen and Zewu-Jun begin courting publicly and get married, then your uncle will stop bothering us, right?"
Lan Zhan considers this for a moment before stating loudly, "Brother, are you free?"
Surprised and slightly stunned by the louder than average call of his sibling, Lan Xichen says, "Of course."
Seeing what he is doing, Wei Wuxian gets in on the action, "Lady Shen, do you have some free time? "
Squinting at the black-cloaked cultivator with suspicion, Mimi responds, "Yes, why do you ask?"
"We do not. Enjoy your time together," in a combined effort that almost seemed choreographed, Lan Zhan swiftly hoists Dumplin under his arm as Master Wei unceremoniously picks up Chen, who yelps in surprise and together leave the library.
"What just happened?" Mimi said, staring at the closing door in amazement.
"That was . . . unexpected," Lan Xichen is also perplexed by this stranger than normal behavior.
"Did your brother and Master Wei just kidnap my sisters?" Mimi glances at Lan Xichen as a laugh tumbles from her lips.
A blush creeps on to Lan Xichen's face, "Would you . . . like to spend some time together?"
"Yes, I would like that," Mimi wonders precisely what they had just been doing if it wasn't considered hanging out, "I never did show you how to create the moving images on the trunk I gave you for a courting gift."
"I could show you my studio," he says, a little nervous.
Sensing his nervousness, Mimi says, "We could choose another," she chances a look outside at the still falling snow, "preferably inside activity."
"No, I wish to show you my studio. I . . . also wished to ask you a question regarding the trunk."
"Is there something wrong with it?" Mimi blurts, awkwardly getting to her feet, trying to subtly shake out the pins and needles sensation in her legs from sitting for too long.
"Not at all, it comforts me," the clan leader confesses, and Mimi is not quite sure what to say to that.
"I mean, it tries to comfort me," he adds, seeing her odd look.
"When I created the trunk, I imbibed it with spiritual energy to protect the owner," Mimi tilts her head in thought, "it has become sentient enough to reach out and offer comfort. May I ask what it is doing?"
The clan leader picks up a sizable umbrella and opens the door for Mimi. He covers her with the umbrella as she leans towards him to narrowly avoid the clumps of snow.
"It is singing," the clan leader says finally.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The trunk is singing," he repeats, chuckling as he watches her avoid the clumps of snow on the ground by hopping from one patch of grass to another while still sheltering under the umbrella.
Not realizing she is the source of his amusement, Mimi says, "It could be worse. I have seen spiritual devices do strange things if they are not used for long periods. My claws, for example."
He sobers at the reminder of how raw her hands had been after finding her nearly unconscious on the infirmary floor, "This is not as insidious. I was just surprised by the singing nightingales."
Face softening, Mimi sighs, "If that's all it is, I am not too concerned then. What bothered you enough to provoke it?"
He sighs, "I do not sleep well."
Knowing this already, Mimi is not satisfied with the answer, but she does not want to pry.
"It undoubtedly is trying to sing you a lullaby then," Mimi answers, "I do something similar for Dumplin when she sleeps. I summon a ball of fire, and it sings to her and glows for her, so it is not as dark in the room."
Realizing she is babbling, Mimi sees the clan leader's residence and closes her mouth. She is secretly relieved that whatever is troubling him, her magic had subconsciously reached out to give him comfort in the night. He opens the door for her and shakes the umbrella after she darts inside to avoid the snow. Having been in here to do the tasks, Mimi cannot remember seeing a room that could lead to a studio. Despite seeing it from the outside.
"My studio is through here," he gestures at a simple watercolor peony on the wall and presses the frame.
It takes a moment, but a door is soon revealed, and Mimi finds herself quite impressed.
"Hiding your studio behind a secret door. Should I be worried about what you are hiding in there?" Mimi quips pleasantly.
She realizes she has unknowingly hit a nerve as his face contorts before resuming a stoic expression.
"Are you alright?" she asks, touching his arm gently, he flinches, and she removes her hand.
"Perfectly fine," he smiles, but it does not reach his eyes. Mimi reads pain in his gaze.
"Lead on then," Mimi makes a gesture for him to lead.
It is like a burrow, Mimi marvels as he leads her down a narrow corridor to a door at the end. The room is more extensive than she expects as she enters first. The smell of fresh paint immediately strikes her sensitive nose. Eyeing the pristine white walls, Mimi suspiciously wonders if perhaps he had painted over them. She had seen trees when she had peeked in through the window, hadn't she?
"I am hoping to paint over these walls," the clan leader says, and Mimi tries not to flinch as he derails her thoughts.
"I can smell fresh paint. Did you paint over the walls recently?" Mimi reaches out to experimentally touch the wall to see if it is still wet.
It had nearly been a month ago when he had shamefully lost control. Perhaps he had merely gotten used to the smell?
"Yes, I did. You have a sensitive nose, Lady Shen," he says, not quite sure what to do now that he has brought her here.
"It's a blessing and a curse," Mimi smiles and strokes the wall, "Have you thought about what you would like to put here?"
Hesitantly reaching for a sketchbook that he had tucked into his sleeve, an old habit from boyhood, he opens it to the desired page.
"While you were reciting the tales for the children, my mind wandered," with a light blush on his face, he shows her the sketch of the night flowers from her folk tale of unrequited love.
"This is beautiful," Mimi snatches the sketchbook from his hand and studies the drawing closer.
Lan Xichen is a little unsettled at her eagerness, not having anyone really take an interest in his art besides his immediate family and Guangyao.
Mimi contemplates how they could incorporate movement into the design. She could see the vines mirroring the constellations and the little flowers reflecting the night sky. Subtleness would be the trick to creating something truly exquisite.
"I think this would be really beautiful," Mimi is touched as she sees the care he had taken to inscribe her every spoken detail in the small sketch.
"I am assuming you would like to incorporate movement into this?" Mimi asks.
Leaning over her shoulder, he also studies the sketch, carefully taking it back from her, "If it were at all possible."
"Let's make some magic," Mimi looks around for a canvas, "perhaps we should start with something small then" takes another look at the walls, "make our way up."
"Sounds reasonable," Lan Xichen begins sorting through canvases and taking out the paint.
Deciding to take full advantage of this unforeseen opportunity, Mimi scoots away from the clan leader to look around without direct supervision. A large canvas covered with a purple sheet stuck in a corner drew her like a moth to a bug zapper. Gently tugging at the purple sheet, Mimi finds herself staring into the eyes of a beautiful young man. The man is standing in an archway looking out to the courtyard. As if watching the rain along the cobblestones. His robes are of yellow silk, and his long brown hair is tied back, so it hung loose down his back. The details were so intricate Mimi felt as if she could reach out and touch the pristine silk.
"Clan leader, this is so beautiful," Mimi says, studying the absolute love and care that went into the painting.
Looking up from setting up a canvas on the other side of the room, he feels his blood run cold.
He hurries over and carefully replaces the purple covering, "It is not finished."
"Are you alright?" disturbed at the manic look in the clan leader's eyes, Mimi steps away from the painting.
"Perfect," Lan Xichen smiles, but Mimi could see his hands trembling.
Gently taking one of his hands in her claws, she leads him to the canvas that he had been setting up, deciding that she did not want to pry unless he shared it with her first. Mimi studies the paint he had selected.
"Why don't you sketch something on to the canvas, and I will work on the paint," Mimi smiles at him comfortingly.
Still feeling increasingly unsettled that the Lady Shen had discovered Guangyao, but apparently did not recognize him. He is somewhat relieved that she did not question him. Was it because Lady Shen had realized his feelings towards Guangyao? Why did she take his hand then? Would she not be disgusted at his love for another man?
"You are thinking too much," Mimi teases lightly, "I can practically hear your thoughts from here."
Taking a small brush, Mimi dabs at the paint experimentally, mixing it.
"I apologize. I have not brought another individual into my studio for a long time. I am nervous," he takes a pencil and begins slowly tracing the outline of a flower onto the canvas.
"I understand," Mimi did not understand, but she could sense it, just seeing his incredibly stiff posture and the veins that popped out of his hand as he grips the pencil, that he is not comfortable.
Deciding to do something about this, Mimi awkwardly picks up the brush in her claws and dots her nose with dark blue paint. Taking another brush, she does the same with the yellow color, dotting her cheeks. She sets it down and patiently waits.
"Dumplin has been extremely excited about your art classes," Mimi says, lightly.
Some of the tension drains from his shoulders, and he responds, "I don't believe I have had such a talented pupil. I believe I am learning more from her than she is from me. Do you remember the name of her teacher?"
Looking over his shoulder at Mimi, he takes in the paint of her face, and the rest of his tension fades as he laughs.
"Do I have something on my face, clan leader?" Mimi asks innocently as she pulls out a handkerchief.
Smiling, he nods and uses his fingers to touch his own face to show her where the paint is. Patting her face with her handkerchief Mimi waves her hand behind her back, and the paint disappears.
Assuming a business-like tone, Mimi looks over his shoulder at the wobbly looking sketch of the flower, "I, unfortunately, do not know the name of her teacher."
"That is unfortunate," he says and continues to sketch, far more comfortably this time.
"I will endeavor to find out," Mimi leans forward and puts her chin in her hand.
Satisfied as a cat that has finally reached the canary, Mimi settles down to watch the leisurely strokes of the pencil.
"You do not draw?" he asks conversationally.
Chuckling, Mimi taps her claws together, rhythmically, "I sometimes have difficulty holding brushes. With your trunk, I was able to trace the patterns in a pleasing style, but I fretted over it for nearly two weeks."
Looking over his shoulder, he smiles as he takes in her thoughtful expression, her eyes months away, "I am flattered."
"As you should be," Mimi quips, her eyes returning to his.
"I believe I am done with this," he says, presenting her with the canvas.
It was a rough sketch, but it would work for her demonstration, Mimi thinks, appraising it.
"Where would you like the movement and the light to hit it?" Mimi asks, returning her attention to the paints.
"The trick is within the paints?" he asks, excited.
Nodding, Mimi presses a claw into her palm and collects a little pool of blood within the palm.
"The trick," Mimi gives him a flirty smile, "is to combine essences. You mix your spiritual energy with blood. We will use mine as a demonstration."
Showing him her palm, he skeptically raises his disapproving eyebrows, "You are literally using your blood for your art?"
I put the demon in demonstration, Mimi thinks with amusement, watching the clan leader internally debate the possible ramifications of using this rather grey method of using spiritual energy.
"Put your hand over the blood and administer your intent to it via spiritual energy," she transfers a little of her magic to the blood.
Turning to the paints, Mimi dips one of her claws into the blood and puts a droplet in each pigment. Mimi summons a ball of foxfire, instantly healing herself.
"As I tell my sisters," Mimi awkwardly picks up a paintbrush and mixes her blood in with the paint, "it depends on the intent. You must see every spell from all sides before putting it to use. You must teach the dark and the light. There are uses for blood magic that do not harm the user or the intended target—the trunk, for example. One could use it for multiple purposes if one chose. It could be a weapon if one chose," Mimi glances at his sword and then back to his face, "as much as your sword could be a decorative object."
Despite her strangeness and unorthodox methods, the clan leader knew she spoke from experience. The weight in her eyes told him volumes more than just her words. He had seen into her mind, been held by her thoughts, and knew she could be trusted.
Holding out a clean brush to him, she asks, "Do you dare try?"
"I trust you," he hesitantly takes the brush, "will I need to do anything else?"
Leaning back to give him plenty of room, Mimi strays to his other side, "If you want movement, pour your intent through the brush. It is the same if you want the light of the sun to flicker on the petals."
Dipping the brush into the blue paint, he gingerly applies it to a petal. There is nothing. Mimi is reminded briefly of Dumplin as he looks at her expectantly, disappointed it did not immediately work.
"You have to finish the petal and wait for it to dry," Mimi comforts as he gains more confidence and finishes the petal.
Leaning her cheek into her hand, Mimi realizes that she could watch him paint for multiple lifetimes.
"Does this bore you?" he asks, watching her from his peripheral vision, a little intimidated by her intense stare.
Realizing she is standing near his shoulder, Mimi waves her hand and creates a cushy chair for herself.
"I'm not bored. I like spending time with you like this," Mimi says, looking out the window and seeing the still falling snow.
Studying her for a moment, the clan leader resumes painting, a small smile on his face. Apart from posing, Guangyao had always been too busy to stick around while he painted. Lan Xichen had painted the Lanling Jin leader's entire bedroom and never seen him once. He had thought . . . perhaps they would have. A slight blush crosses his face. He steals a glance at the Lady Shen, who sat quietly. She is curled on her side on the chair she had miraculously summoned into being. Her long skirts drape around her onto the floor, and noticing his stare, gives him a lazy smile. An unbidden memory of Firefly pops into his head. How had he not seen the similarities before?
"I see Firefly in the library sometimes at night," Lan Xichen says conversationally as he starts on the last petal.
"I have difficulty sleeping at night," Mimi says truthfully, "I hope it doesn't bother you."
The way she phrased it made him pause. He contemplates it for a moment.
"It does not. I am fond of Firefly," Lan Xichen cleans his brush and meets her eyes, "I do not see her during the day."
Not wanting to lie to him, she shrugs, "Foxes are usually more active at night."
Getting to her feet, Mimi approaches him and studies the painting. Her unique eyes practically glowing as she looks over the artwork. Summoning a ball of her foxfire, Mimi very gently holds it aloft and dries the painting.
"Let's see how you did," Mimi quips and lowers her hand.
Pulling up the canvas, the clan leader holds it directly into the light of the window. At first, nothing happens. Lan Xichen is about to ask if she could go over the process once more when the flower begins to shiver. The petals twitch and unfurl as if being exposed to the sun.
"You did it," Mimi touches his arm and smiles proudly.
He could not believe it, "You didn't do anything else?"
Chuckling, Mimi shakes her head, "I only added the blood and a bit of intent. The rest was all you."