Jin Ling hurt everywhere. His uncle had given him an elixir the night before which had allowed him to sleep. It hadn't healed him, though.

He groaned, stopping immediately when even that small movement sent a stabbing pain across his torso. He was left to stare at the area around him, suffering in silence.

His room was as he'd left it - a mess. There were scrolls strewn across the handsome mahogany desk that stood in front of the rounded doorway to his private garden. The same sheer curtains that lined the hallways of the palace danced in that open doorway. Their hems nearly dipped into the multitude of empty teacups that sat on the floor. Beside the cups was a stack of dirtied plates and bowls from times Jin Ling had taken his dinner to his room to continue working.

He scrunched up his face, disgusted with himself. It was a mistake to have told the staff not to clean his room. He obviously wasn't doing it himself.

Continuing to survey the chaos of his own making, he found Jiang Cheng seated in the lacquered wooden armchair that Jin Ling had pushed aside to make more space for his trash. The pile of dirty clothes that had sat upon that chair was now on the ground beside it.

Jin Ling grimaced at the thought of Jiang Cheng spending the night here in this disgusting bedroom.

But that seemed to be exactly what he'd done.

Jiang Cheng was fast asleep and still clothed in the bloodstained Jin uniform he'd worn the day before. His hair was still pulled back in a ponytail whose length rivaled Jin Ling's. He looked exhausted.

His head rested on one hand and was further supported by the wall next to him. There were dark circles under his eyes. His mouth hung open slightly and as Jin Ling watched, he saw him whisper something incoherent and scowl for a moment before going back to a more peaceful rest.

It was strange to see him like this, beyond the fact that he was dressed like a Jin. He was a different person when he was dreaming, and it had been a long while since Jin Ling had seen him sleep.

Come to think of it, the last time he could remember was when he was around five years old and wouldn't stop screaming when told to go to bed.

They had gotten into a battle of sorts where Jiang Cheng would throw him into bed and hurriedly try to cocoon him in his blankets so that he couldn't move. Jin Ling would wiggle furiously all the while and leap back out in defiance.

His uncle had threatened to take away all sorts of privileges, things that normally would have put Jin Ling in his place. But for some reason, he couldn't be so easily controlled that night.

He couldn't remember how many times they'd gone back and forth, but he did distinctly recall waking up on the floor next to his uncle, who still had his arms outstretched toward him like he was going to throw him on the bed again.

Jin Ling grinned at the memory. After all, he'd won. He hadn't gone to bed. Though he was sure Jiang Cheng wouldn't remember that one point he'd scored against him.

He didn't seem to remember his victories. Only his losses.

But even at that age, Jin Ling knew Jiang Cheng looked different as he lay there on the floor beside him. Though he would frown and mumble sometimes, Jiang Cheng was overall tranquil, a state he definitely didn't encapsulate in his waking hours.

Jin Ling had been sitting still long enough that the sting of his injuries had become less noticeable, to the point that it had slipped his mind altogether. He went to swing his legs off the bed and cried out as his broken bones ground against one another.

Jiang Cheng woke instantly. He craned his neck to figure out what had happened, and shortly after, rolled his eyes and rested his head in his hand again.

"Forget your legs were broken?" he asked condescendingly.

"Forget where the guest rooms are?" Jin Ling shot back.

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes again, but Jin Ling swore he saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

"I'll find you a healing elixir today," he said, rising from his chair as if he was going to head straight to the market. "How do you feel? Besides feeling stupid for trying to move too soon."

Jin Ling glowered at him. "I feel terrible, just like I did yesterday. Why would it be any different? It's as you said: you haven't healed me yet."

He noted that Zidian had returned to his uncle's index finger. He must have taken it back while Jin Ling was sleeping.

Jiang Cheng crossed his arms.

Great. He was definitely in for a lecture.

"If you don't want my whole clan involved in your affairs, fine," Jiang Cheng said. "But why didn't you ask for my help?"

This again. Would he ever let it go?

"I didn't need it," Jin Ling said.

"You nearly blew up!"

"Yes, and your presence didn't stop that…"

Or had it?

Jin Ling bit his tongue before saying anything more.

A new possibility had come to mind, one that he prayed wasn't true. His uncle might have used some incantation to shield him at the last second.

If that were the case, he would never hear the end of it!

"No, it didn't," Jiang Cheng admitted. Jin Ling exhaled in relief. "But had I been there from the start, we might have stopped it from happening in the first place."

"I don't see why you would think that."

"The point is," Jiang Cheng huffed, his fingers clenching, "you want to have as many allies as possible for a battle. You shouldn't close yourself off like this."

"This wasn't the Sunshot Campaign, okay? Not all wars are fought the same way!"

Jiang Cheng threw his head back and laughed unpleasantly. He sounded unhinged. The hair on Jin Ling's arms stood on end.

"You call that a war?" Jiang Cheng scoffed. "A war?"

"Fine, a battle."

"There was hardly enough blood to slick the floor!"

"You don't-"

But Jiang Cheng carried on as if he hadn't heard him, pacing back and forth as he spoke.

"War gushes blood, A-Ling," he said. "It soaks into the ground and the stairs and the walls. Even when you tear everything down, you can still smell it. You can rebuild, but it's never the same.

"This tower will recover," he continued, pointing around at the room. "There were no crushing losses here. There were no pyrrhic victories. This wasn't war. You haven't seen war. You never will."

"Tch," said Jin Ling, rolling his eyes. "You can't know tha-"

"You never will."

The intensity of Jiang Cheng's gaze and voice was a sort that Jin Ling hadn't witnessed before. But the longer Jiang Cheng watched him, the more he seemed to be settling down. He stopped his agitated pacing. And eventually, he looked away to stare out the window.

Jin Ling, however, only grew more irritated.

"You can't have it both ways," he hissed.

"What?" Jiang Cheng said, turning back to look at him again.

"I claim this wasn't a big deal, you tell me otherwise and scold me for not calling you," Jin Ling said through gritted teeth. "Then I call it war and point out that I handled it fine on my own, and you tell me this was nothing."

"This was a small battle," Jiang Cheng said. "But you should have called for me."

Jin Ling was shaking with rage. "You can't even admit that I handled it! Why?!"

Rather than rising to meet his fury like Jin Ling had expected, Jiang Cheng merely sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'm asking you to involve me next time," he said. "I will disguise myself however you want. I will tell whatever story you want me to tell. Just call for me."

Jiang Cheng wasn't often this even-tempered while arguing. It was odd.

And he looked so tired. Was it worth it to keep fighting him? Would pointing out his hypocrisy again even change anything?

Jin Ling decided that it wouldn't and it hurt his ribs too much to yell at him. So, to keep the peace for the time being, he lied.

"Sure, I guess," Jin Ling grumbled. "You look stupid in that uniform though."

Jiang Cheng twisted Zidian on his finger. "I'd pinch you for that if you weren't already injured."

"Speaking of-"

A knock at the door interrupted them.

Jin Ling's heart leapt into his throat. Jiang Cheng's hand moved to rest on the hilt of his sword.

"Come in," Jiang Cheng said.

Jin Ling couldn't find his words. Why was he so scared?

The door slid open and in came Lan Xichen carrying a silver tray with two steaming bowls, a teapot, and two round porcelain cups.

"I heard you two chatting in here and thought you may be hungry," he said with a smile that didn't touch his eyes.

The smell of meat and onions wafted over. Jin Ling realized that he was indeed very hungry.

"I thought the Lans didn't cook with meat?" Jiang Cheng said. He eyed the soup like a ravenous wolf.

"Oh I don't cook," Lan Xichen said. "The talented Jins made this. I simply volunteered to bring it back for everyone so I could give you these too."

He gingerly brushed some parcels off the desk to make room for the tray. Once he'd set it down, he placed two pills, one brown and one white, beside the bowl.

Jiang Cheng took a half step closer. Jin Ling smirked at how hard his uncle was trying not to seize the nearest bowl and down it.

"This one is yours," Lan Xichen said, holding one of the bowls out to Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng hesitated. "I need to help Jin Ling first."

"No. Just eat. I will help Jin Ling… if he'll allow it?"

Jin Ling's face grew hot.

Was Zewu-jun actually going to spoon feed him? What other option was there? He couldn't lift his arm without screaming. He couldn't say no to Lan Xichen either, could he? He wasn't as afraid of him as he was of Hanguang-jun but that didn't mean there wasn't a level of intimidation there.

"You don't have to do that," Jiang Cheng said. "He's not your responsibility."

"He's not anyone's responsibility," Lan Xichen answered, making Jin Ling swell with pride. "But I'm happy to help him." He turned to Jin Ling. "Will it bother you if I help you instead?"

"Uhh – I mean – um – no?"

Jiang Cheng glanced at him. There was no way he couldn't see the discomfort on his face, but rather than speak up for him again, he took the bowl that Lan Xichen still held out and returned to his chair on the other side of the room.

"Traitor," Jin Ling breathed.

"What was that?" Lan Xichen asked.

Jin Ling gulped. "I was wondering why you can't heal me with spiritual energy," he said quickly. "Hanguang-jun is skilled at healing. I thought all of the Lan Clan was as well."

"We are. I haven't recovered my qi yet."

Jiang Cheng's eyebrows shot up. His look of bewilderment matched what Jin Ling felt.

"You haven't used any since yesterday, have you?" Jiang Cheng asked.

"No."

"Did you rest at all since being here?"

Lan Xichen smiled sadly. "Not as much as I should have."

Jiang Cheng opened his mouth as if to say something more but seemingly decided against it and turned his attention back to his soup with a 'hm'.

It was humiliating to be fed like a child by a world-renown man. It still would have been humiliating to have his uncle do it, but this was worse.

Every now and then Jiang Cheng would look over the top of his bowl at him, amusement on his face while he ate.

Lan Xichen had dropped the two elixirs into the first spoonful. Then gave him a few more drinks to wash it down.

"That should be enough," Lan Xichen said.

He set the bowl back on the tray. Jiang Cheng looked both confused and disappointed, as if he'd hoped Jin Ling would be trapped in that awkward situation longer.

"He hasn't finished though, has he?" Jiang Cheng asked.

"No," Lan Xichen said, "but in another moment or two, he'll be able to eat on his own. I don't need to keep torturing him."

"Debatable."

Jin Ling made a face at Jiang Cheng, who took another bite of soup to pretend he didn't see. Whatever trickster spirit had possessed his uncle that morning, Jin Ling didn't like it.

He became gradually aware of a prickly sensation in his toes and fingertips. Jin Ling grew uncomfortably warm. The prickly sensation turned to an ache, and then downright pain. He panted as an awful pressure built in his legs to a nearly unbearable level.

And just like that, Jiang Cheng was back to his usual overprotective self. He was by his side, checking his meridians, and glaring reproachfully at Lan Xichen.

"What the hell did you give him?" he demanded.

"This is normal," Lan Xichen answered, as mild-mannered as always. "It may be painful at first, but that will soon pass."

"A warning would have been nice."

With perfect timing, a wave of excruciating pain washed over him. Jin Ling couldn't hold in his scream anymore.

But, as he tipped his head back to release it, he heard and felt several soft pops across his body and then everything was fine again.

The noise he let out was more of a weird strangled yelp than a scream.

"See?" Lan Xichen said, rubbing the back of Jin Ling's hand with his thumb. Jin Ling hadn't even noticed he was holding it. "It's a lot all at once but it passes quickly."

"Right," Jin Ling said, feeling awkward again. "Thank you, Zewu-jun."

He slipped his hand out of Lan Xichen's, pleased to find that he was only moderately sore now. Jin Ling smiled appreciatively up at the former Lan Sect leader.

Was 'former' the right word? Jin Ling didn't know.

"Thank you," Jin Ling said again with more enthusiasm.

Lan Xichen bowed his head. "It was no trouble," he said. "I'll take my leave now to let you two finish your food."

"I've finished," Jiang Cheng said. "I'll come with you."

He looked brighter now. All it took was some food, Jin Ling supposed.

Lan Xichen seemed a little confused but didn't argue. The two of them meandered over to the door. Jiang Cheng turned around before leaving and, in his authoritarian way, said, "Finish your food."

Then he and Zewu-jun were gone.

Alone at last, Jin Ling rolled his eyes. He was tempted not to finish the soup purely out of spite. But that heavenly smell kept wafting over to him, carried by the gentle breeze outside. He couldn't resist.

He swung his legs off the bed, wincing a little, and walked shakily to the desk. His limbs were harder to control than he remembered. He wondered if it was an effect of the elixir or just weakness from pain.

He took the warm bowl in his hands and stepped out into the garden.

Tall white walls surrounded it on all sides. The only entrance was through Jin Ling's quarters. It was a modest space, at least in comparison to the grandeur of the rest of Jinlintai. Most of the garden was taken up by a lotus pond, spanning from the back wall almost all the way up to the door. A little pier jutted out over the water and that was where Jin Ling carried his lunch.

He sat down at the end. The pond was still. Its surface, as pristine as a mirror, reflected dark storm clouds overhead. The smell of approaching rain was in the air.

Jin Ling leaned over and gently brushed the nearest lotus flower.

"Hi," he said to no one. The pond listened quietly.

He took a bite of soup.

"I came here to let you to know that I have everything under control."

The pond, of course, did not answer.

Jin Guangyao used to let him come here when he wanted. In fact, he was the one who'd told him about the pond and who had built it.

It used to anger Jin Ling that Jin Guangyao could sit across from him and tell him in a sorrowful tone so many stories about his parents – things Jiang Cheng couldn't bear to talk about.

Jin Guangyao was the reason the only pieces left of them were their stories. He was the reason for a lot of things.

But, Jin Ling wasn't angry anymore. Not really. He'd spent so much time hating Wei Wuxian for things that Jin Guangyao had done. It seemed that now he knew the real culprit, Jin Ling had no more energy left to spend on hating him instead.

Part of him wondered if Jin Guangyao had shared those stories of his parents as atonement for what he'd done.

It wasn't enough to fix anything, but it still would have meant something to Jin Ling if that had been the case. It would have meant that he'd cared, at least that much. It was the comfort of knowing that the man who'd helped to raise him might have loved him to some degree, even if he was still a monster.

Jin Ling ate in silence, trying to think as little as possible. And, when he was done, he rose and bowed to the water.

He bent to retrieve his dishes, unwilling to leave the garden in the same disarray as his bedroom. As he straightened, the spoon caught on his robe and clattered onto the wood.

Before he knew it, Jin Ling was on the ground too, unable to breathe.

He clutched at his throat but there was nothing there, nothing to explain why he was suffocating. Panicked, he reached into his robes and pulled out Wei Wuxian's jade talisman. It was still intact. He didn't understand.

The smell of smoke and burned flesh filled his nostrils. Warmth spread from his hands and oozed up onto his forearms.

Blood. There was blood on his hands.

But there wasn't. He knew that there wasn't. His hands were clean and trembling in front of him.

Just then, voices spoke from far away.

"We shouldn't go in there. Those are his private quarters."

"We told Zewu-jun-"

"We told him we would help. I don't think he intended this."

Oh please come in, one part of Jin Ling cried. I think I need help.

No, don't, another part of him argued. I don't want them to see me like this.

Whatever happened was entirely out of his control. Jin Ling couldn't move. His heart hammered a thousand times a second. He was sure he was going to pass out soon from lack of air.

"Jin Liiiiiiing!" came Jingyi's loud voice from the bedroom. "Faaaaairy! Oh wait, he sent her to stay with his advisor's daughter."

"Please, Jingyi," Sizhui begged. He sounded farther away, as if he hadn't dared to cross the threshold. "Come back."

"Jin Ling, if you jump out at me, I won't hesitate to hit you!"

"Come back here!"

"This is weird," Jingyi replied, acting like he hadn't heard a word from his companion. "I could have sworn I heard Sect Leader Jiang talk to him before he left."

"Yes and I really don't want Sect Leader Jiang to find you poking around in here either," Sizhui hissed.

"I'm not afraid of him!"

"That's what worries me."

Listening to them talk, Jin Ling felt some of the tightness in his chest recede. The horrid smells around him dissipated too. But sadly, he still couldn't stand or really move at all.

"Seriously, Jin Ling," Jingyi snapped, "come out here. Jumping out at us is in poor taste considering-"

Jin Ling watched as the white curtain in the doorway was swept aside. And there was Jingyi, looking as lively as ever. He was dressed in clean blue robes that he must have gotten from the palace staff.

"So you're terrible at jumping out at people too?" Jingyi teased. "Why are you way over-? Are you all right?!"

Before he could even try to speak, Jingyi was by his side, helping him to his feet.

"Sizhui!" he yelled. "Sizhui, something's wrong with him!"

"I'm fine," Jin Ling said, choking the words out.

Jingyi fixed him with his 'stop talking, stupid' look, and for once, it actually succeeded in making Jin Ling fall silent. He guided him inside to the lacquered chair in the corner of the room. Sizhui made his way over, apparently deciding that rules of propriety were less important than assisting with whatever was happening.

"Look at me," Sizhui commanded softly.

Jin Ling did as he was told. To his surprise, Sizhui knelt down and pressed his fingertips to Jin Ling's temples. He wasn't one to touch others. Even when checking meridians, he did so with a layer of clothing in between.

"This is not an emergency," Sizhui said, folding his hands primly on his lap. "This is not Xue Yang. Breathe in and out as deeply as you can, Jin Ling."

Jin Ling scowled. "I… can't… breathe… how?"

"Well you used a lot of air with that," Jingyi said. "Why didn't you just do what he asked?"

"Please stop instigating," Sizhui scolded.

He reached out and gently pried Jin Ling's fingers off of the jade talisman. Jin Ling hadn't even noticed he was still holding it.

The surprise must have shown on his face because Sizhui then said, "You really need to try to notice what's around you now. What are you touching? What do you smell? What do you see? You don't have to tell it to me, but you need to focus on it."

"I don't see how that's going to help," Jingyi muttered. Sizhui ignored him.

Jin Ling tried to focus. He felt the chair beneath him and the softness of Sizhui's hands that still held his. He saw Jingyi's worry that was disguised as impatience. He noted the faint aroma of frankincense and wondered if Sizhui was still burning incense for his ancestors.

"That's better," Sizhui soothed as Jin Ling's wheezing breaths began to normalize.

Gradually, his trembling subsided and his heart rate slowed. Jin Ling sat back in the chair, relieved.

"Great!" Jingyi exclaimed suddenly, making Jin Ling jump. Sizhui shot him an accusatory look that Jingyi didn't seem to notice. "But I know what'll heal you even more than looking around the room. Where do you keep the alcohol?"

"I don't think-" Sizhui started to say.

"You'd have to go back to the main hall," Jin Ling interjected. Drinking sounded like an excellent idea to him. "Are you volunteering as the runner?"

"I'm faster than you, aren't I?"

"We'll see about that!" Jin Ling declared, feigning a tiny bit of anger to encourage both himself and his opponent. "I bet I can beat you there!"

He sprang to his feet, ignoring the fact that his legs felt like jelly, and sprinted for the door, leaving poor Sizhui on the floor in front of the chair looking utterly dismayed.

Try as he might to reign the other juniors in, Sizhui did often struggle to control Jingyi and Jin Ling.

And Jin Ling was trying his best to convince them that he didn't need any more caring for. Which would only make him harder to control.

Hurried footsteps sounded behind him as Jin Ling careened down the hall.

"This isn't fair!" Jingyi shouted. "You know where you're going!"

"Doesn't matter since you'll be behind me anyway!"

The injuries to his legs still hurt, but it didn't compare to how good it felt to run like that. There were surprisingly few people in the hallway, which was good since he and Jingyi were hitting the walls trying to turn around corners.

Paintings and decorative vases flashed by. White and gold banners fluttered as they passed.

Behind him, Jingyi swore loudly. Shortly after, there came the sound of china clanking against wood.

"That's over 200 years old!" Jin Ling shouted over his shoulder. "You had better not break it!"

"I'll break it over your head if you don't shut your mouth!"

Jin Ling chortled. And then…

Wham!

He ran smack into someone. Jin Ling and the other person staggered backward, but neither of them fell.

In horror, he found himself face-to-face with a disgruntled and soaking wet Luo Qingyang.

The reality of his station – leader of the Jin Sect – came crashing down on him then. What was he doing running around the corridors like this? This was no way for him to behave.

"Sorry," Jin Ling muttered, bowing to her. "Um what are you up to? Why are you drenched?"

Jingyi slowed to a halt behind him, panting.

Luo Qingyang bowed in return. She was dressed in a simple but elegant green robe. Her long brown hair sagged with water, flattening her hairpins against her head. As was typical for her, she did not wear the peony insignia upon her chest. Even though she was currently in charge of the Jin Clan, she didn't consider herself part of it. Jin Ling had tried to convince her otherwise but to no avail.

She looked like she was going to scold him, but then her face relaxed and she gave a partial smile instead. For a split second, though, Jin Ling could have sworn he saw something like pity in her eyes.

"I'm taking care of some things," she said, peering at Jingyi who was doing his best to hide behind Jin Ling. "And it's raining outside. That's why I'm soaked. Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Oh I should be helping you," Jin Ling said, guilt filling his stomach. "What can I do for-?"

"No," Luo Qingyang said, holding up a hand. "You're still supposed to be away from all of this. Come back when you're ready."

That made him feel worse. Was she angry? Did she think he couldn't handle it?

"I don't-"

"What can he do to make it up to you later?" Jingyi butted in. Jin Ling whirled around to scowl at him briefly before turning back to Luo Qingyang with what he hoped was a neutral expression.

Luo Qingyang gave a devilish smile that made Jin Ling's stomach twist. "I'll have him watch Mianmian for me sometime… maybe for a long time, I don't know. I have been working very hard."

Jin Ling grinned. "Deal. I'll teach her where all the secret palace rooms are."

"You had better not! I'll never find her again!"

"It's the risk you take."

Luo Qingyang folded her arms. "Just get out of here. Both of you. And don't run like that. It frightens all the stuffy elders."

Jingyi laughed. "Got it. Let's go."

He caught Jin Ling's sleeve and started to pull him along. Jin Ling yanked his arm away immediately, much to the amusement of Luo Qingyang, who laughed until the two of them had rounded the next corner.

"I beat you," Jin Ling said.

"I was gaining on you," Jingyi replied. "We never made it to the kitchen."

As he said it, they arrived at their destination. There wouldn't have been hardly any more time for Jingyi to catch Jin Ling and he knew it. He pursed his lips, pouting.

"Come on," Jin Ling said. "Let's go."

For whatever reason, the two of them had wordlessly agreed to conceal the fact that they were taking alcohol. There was no reason they couldn't have it. Jin Ling could ask for whatever he wanted.

But together they scoured the kitchen. When they spotted something they wanted, Jingyi would start chatting with the people nearby while Jin Ling snuck in to nab it.

They left with far more than they were going to be able to drink. It barely fit in the basket they found to hide it all in.

"Do you think Sizhui is still back in my room?" Jin Ling asked.

"Probably standing outside," Jingyi said, readjusting his grip on the basket they carried between them. "He wouldn't want you to think he's doing anything improper."

"Ah, right."

Jin Ling was on high alert. If his uncle caught him sneaking alcohol, he'd get an earful. He was sure that he could be well into his thirties and Jiang Cheng would still lecture him on etiquette even though he himself was sorely lacking in that area.

He craned his neck around each corner and continuously checked back over his shoulder. Oddly enough, he noted that Jingyi was doing a lot of the same things.

"What are you worried about?" Jin Ling asked him.

"Nothing! I'm not scared of anyone!"

"Zewu-jun?"

Jingyi stiffened. "Where?!"

Jin Ling rolled his eyes and snorted. Jingyi hit him in the shoulder.

"Well you're obviously scared of someone too," he taunted. "Let me guess… Sect Leader Jiang?"

"I'm not scared. I just don't want the lecture."

"Uh-huh. Sure."

"If it weren't for this basket, I would have hit you already."

"Didn't stop me." Jingyi slapped his shoulder again.

Unfortunately for him – and very fortunate for Jin Ling – they had arrived outside the bedroom without Jingyi's notice. Sizhui was, as predicted, planted in the hallway by the door.

Jin Ling set down his end of the basket, forcing Jingyi to do the same. He then proceeded to smack him twice in quick succession on his shoulder.

"You two, please!" Sizhui cried. "How have you already gotten into a fight?!"

"He's insufferable!" Jingyi and Jin Ling cried in unison.

"Please go inside."

To their surprise, Sizhui grabbed the basket himself and hefted it into the room. Those Lan disciples definitely focused on arm strength. He didn't struggle at all.

"Now you can fight all you want," Sizhui said defeatedly. "I won't stop you, but keep it in here."

"We weren't really fighting," Jingyi said. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I just don't want Jin Ling to get himself into trouble."

Guilt sank in his gut like a lead weight. Jin Ling was still making a fool of himself.

"Whatever," Jingyi scoffed. He reached into the basket and pulled out a tall jug of something. "Here. Why don't you start pouring thi-"

Jin Ling wasn't listening to him. He'd taken the mystery jug, pulled out the stopper, and started drinking straight from the bottle. Whatever it was, it tasted horrible and burned the whole way down his throat.

"What the hell?!" Jingyi snatched it back from him and reached into the basket to pull out a glass for himself. "You're not going to pass out before I've even had a sip."

"All you need is a sip, weakling."

Jingyi gestured rudely at him.

"You shouldn't drink so much," Sizhui said. "You're recovering from your injuries. We all are."

"I'm fine," Jin Ling said even as he gradually became not-fine.

He couldn't remember being so intolerant of alcohol, but already he was developing that familiar weightless feeling. His fingers tingled. Maybe it had something to do with the elixirs he'd taken.

Jingyi spluttered and coughed, nearly dropping his glass. "What is that?"

Sizhui checked the bottle. "Some kind of baijiu."

"Well it tastes awful. Give me something else. I can't believe Jin Ling was going to down all of that."

"Weak," Jin Ling heckled while Jingyi rummaged around in the basket and retrieved a bottle of mead. He pushed the baijiu back at Jin Ling. His cheeks were already beginning to flush.

"Enjoy your fire in a bottle," he said. "I'm having something tasty."

Jin Ling took another swig of the baijiu, but he couldn't deny it. It really did taste awful.

"Give me some of that," he demanded, reaching out his hands for the bottle in Jingyi's hands.

Rolling his eyes, Jingyi pulled out another glass from the basket, poured it half full, and handed it to Jin Ling.

"You're drinking like a civilized person this time," he scolded.

"You can't make me do anything," Jin Ling said, taking the offered glass anyway. "…I'm accepting this because I want to, not because you have any control over me. I could take the whole bottle from you if I wanted to."

Out of the corner of his eye, he was pretty sure he saw Sizhui cover his face to hide a smile. Jingyi didn't hide anything. He burst out laughing right in front of him.

"You wanna go?!" Jin Ling shouted.

He took what he'd hoped would be a threatening step toward him, but he wobbled a lot and spilled some of his drink on the floor. Jingyi roared louder.

"Why can't you stop taking yourself so seriously all the time?" Jingyi asked between fits of giggles. "That was funny! Just laugh!"

"You don't laugh at yourself either!"

Sizhui stepped between them. Dressed in clean white and black robes, his grace resembled that of a swan's. "You're both very funny and you should both do a better job controlling your tempers. Okay?"

Jin Ling grumbled a little under his breath, but he wasn't going to fight Sizhui. He stumbled over a stray dirty dish on the floor as he made his way to his bed to sit down.

Jingyi chuckled, and oddly, this time, Jin Ling didn't feel the same indignation rise through his being. Sitting on the end of the bed, he laughed too.

Sizhui heaved a long sigh. He surveyed the mess of Jin Ling's bedroom. Luckily, Jin Ling was feeling fuzzy enough that that he didn't feel the embarrassment he knew would be there tomorrow.

That is, until Sizhui started cleaning.

"What are you doing?" Jin Ling asked jumping up to stop him. "I don't need you to tidy up after me."

"You two are going to trip over everything," Sizhui replied, still picking up dishes and sorting clothing.

"Have Jin Ling clean his own room," Jingyi said. He wandered over and sat down next to Jin Ling on the bed. "I can't tell him what to do, but maybe you can."

Jin Ling shoved him, almost knocking him off the bed. And even though he most certainly did not take orders from Lan disciples, Jin Ling did get to his feet and started clumsily helping Sizhui. In all honesty, though, he was getting in his way more than anything.

"Come here, Sizhui, and drink with me," Jingyi said. "We'll watch Jin Ling struggle together."

"I'm doing fine!" Jin Ling insisted. He then promptly knocked into his desk, sending parcels rolling every which direction.

Another fit of giggles erupted from all three of them. Jin Ling was feeling great. He had no idea why he'd been so stressed earlier. Everything was fine.

"I bet you won't be able to stack all those dishes in one tower!"

"Jingyi, no."

"Watch me!" Jin Ling said.

He crawled around on his hands and knees, swearing loudly when he stabbed his hand on a pair of chopsticks. Jingyi was laughing hysterically behind him, but Jin Ling was so focused on winning the dare that he didn't bother to yell at him for making fun.

Meanwhile, Sizhui begged him to be careful.

He stacked bowls on bowls and cups on cups. He only knocked the tower down twice and only broke one plate, the pieces of which were promptly swept away by Sizhui.

"There!" Jin Ling said triumphantly. "Look!"

"You broke one though," Jingyi said. "That doesn't count."

Jin Ling crossed his arms. "Well I bet you won't be able to drink a glass of the baijiu without making a face."

He was right. Jingyi took maybe two sips before he couldn't hide his disgust anymore.

They went back and forth daring each other to do increasingly more ridiculous things while Sizhui just tried to make sure no one got hurt.

"I bet you won't be able to throw this book backward into the bin."

Sizhui caught the heavy volume of Spiritual Qi and Arrays before it hit Jingyi squarely in the face.

"I bet you won't run out into the hallway and scream."

Sizhui stopped Jin Ling when he stumbled and nearly fell down the stairs.

"I bet you won't carry Sizhui like a baby into the main hall."

"I bet you won't," Sizhui interrupted crossly.

Jin Ling and Jingyi laughed and kept going, letting that dare drop. No one wanted to fight Sizhui.

"I bet you won't climb that tree out there in the garden and yell over the wall."

Sizhui pleaded with them for a good while, warning them that it was storming outside and there was more of a chance that they would get hurt. But neither Jingyi nor Jin Ling paid him any heed.

Sizhui caught Jingyi when he slipped on the branches that were slick from the rain.

"I bet you won't jump out and scare Sect Leader Jiang."

"No, I won't do that," Jin Ling said. "Just like I bet you won't do that to Zewu-jun."

Jingyi shrugged and flopped backward onto Jin Ling's bed, soaking the covers in rainwater. "Yeah, fair."

Jin Ling bent and retrieved the third glass from the wicker basket and set it on his desk, which was now cleared off after Jingyi bet that he couldn't fit all his papers into the drawers. Using more concentration than should have been necessary, he poured two fingers of mead into the new glass.

"I bet Sizhui still won't drink with us," he said in a sing-song voice.

"No, I won't," Sizhui replied with a polite smile. "Thank you for offering."

"Sizhui doesn't like to break the rules," Jingyi grumbled, still sprawled on the bed. "Haven't you figured that out already?"

"I also don't want you two to hurt yourselves," said Sizhui. "Zewu-jun had trouble finding those elixirs for us. I don't want his effort to be for nothing."

"We won't get hurt," Jin Ling assured him. "We're settling down anyway. Now we want to see what you'll do."

He tapped the side of the crystal glass with a loud ding. Sizhui's brow furrowed. He glanced at the exit for a split second.

"If you don't want to, you don't have to," Jin Ling said. "But it could be fun."

Sizhui hung his head. "I don't want to disappoint Hanguang-jun."

Jingyi howled with laughter. "Hanguang-jun drinks! We saw him, remember?"

"Neither of us will tell him if you decide you want to," Jin Ling said, leaving the glass on the edge of the desk.

Sizhui actually looked tempted. But, he instead gingerly took a seat on the floor at the foot of Jin Ling's bed.

"Come up here!" Jingyi insisted, patting the bed with excessive force. His face was cherry red. "The young mistress has all the nicest things. I didn't know covers could be this soft!"

"I thought you'd stopped calling me that," Jin Ling said crossly.

"Yeah and then I was reminded how spoiled you are, and now here we are."

Jin Ling stomped over to the bed, picked up one of the numerous plush cushions, and threw it at Jingyi's head. Somehow he missed even though he stood perhaps a meter away from him.

Naturally, Jingyi poked fun at him for it, but Jin Ling mostly ignored him. He was starting to feel drowsy even though he'd woken not long ago.

"You can come up here, Sizhui," Jin Ling said.

Sizhui rose from his spot on the floor, looked between the two of them nervously, and then very slowly sank down on the edge of the bed.

Jin Ling flopped down next to Jingyi, purposely flicking his hair so it would strike him. Jingyi gestured rudely at him.

"Why is there a lotus pond out there?" Sizhui asked then, pointing toward the curtain that blocked the view of the garden. "Shouldn't it be peonies?"

Heavy sorrow filled Jin Ling's heart for a moment. He considered giving an impolite non-answer to avoid talking about it.

But Sizhui hadn't asked with any malice. His face was gentle, his eyes dark and calm like the night. He simply wanted to know.

"My father built it for my mother when they were engaged."

"Really?!" Jingyi asked, rolling onto his stomach and propping himself up on his elbows. "I thought everyone said your father disliked your mother?"

Jin Ling's hands curled into fists. His fingernails bit into his palms.

Sizhui leaned over and placed a hand on Jin Ling's shoulder. "You should apologize, Jingyi. That was a terrible thing to say."

"I don't need you to mother me!" Jingyi snapped. But when he looked at Jin Ling, his gaze softened. "I realized it was wrong as soon as I said it," he muttered. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"It's fine," Jin Ling said stiffly. "It's not the first time I've heard it anyway."

"I only meant to show my surprise, since I hadn't expected your father was such a romantic. I hope I can do something so genuine when I find my fated person."

"Really?" Jin Ling and Sizhui said in unison.

"Of course," Jingyi said, sounding frustrated. "Why wouldn't I want to make her feel loved?"

Jin Ling shrugged. Sizhui smiled.

"Why couldn't you just write her a song or something?" Jin Ling asked. "You Lans are gifted with music. Music is romantic, isn't it? Why not use that to your advantage?"

Jingyi laughed wryly. "No one would want to hear my guqin or flute skills."

Jin Ling frowned. Thinking back on it, he'd only ever seen Sizhui play the guqin. Jingyi had never played an instrument in front of him.

"Have you never learned?!"

Jingyi glowered at him. "Why don't you try to learn an instrument and tell me how easy it is!"

"Jingyi is gifted with music," Sizhui cut in gently. "His gift just doesn't include instruments."

"Sizhui, stop…"

"How would it not include instruments?" Jin Ling asked, perplexed.

Sizhui looked at Jingyi, gauging whether or not he could say more. It was obvious that Jingyi wanted nothing to be said.

Jin Ling crossed his arms and sat back, resigned to never knowing.

But then, a miracle happened. Sizhui told him anyway.

"Jingyi is a lovely singer."

"Really?!"

Jingyi shot an angry look at Sizhui. Sizhui bowed his head apologetically.

"Yes, if you must know," Jingyi said through gritted teeth.

Jin Ling sat up a little straighter. "Will you sing something?"

He wasn't really one for the arts, but for some reason, he was eager to hear him.

Jin Ling wouldn't have thought it possible, but somehow Jingyi grew even more red in the face.

"Come ooooon," Jin Ling coaxed. "I'll let you dare me to do something else!"

A mischievous grin spread across Jingyi's lips. Jin Ling started to doubt whether or not he would be able to handle this next dare. Sizhui, too, looked worried.

"Ok," he said. "But Sizhui has to play with me. It sounds better with the guqin."

Jin Ling and Jingyi both looked expectantly at Sizhui. Sizhui sighed and picked himself up.

"Give me a moment then," he said. "I need to grab it from the guest room."

He left and Jingyi sprang up to gulp down a little more wine.

"Do you always drink before a performance?" Jin Ling teased.

"Either I'm alone or, yes, drunk."

They laughed. Jingyi poured more wine for Jin Ling and passed it to him.

"Are you feeling better?" Jingyi asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you looked terrible this afternoon. I thought you were dying out there in the garden your father built. Could you imagine how tragic that would be?"

Jin Ling chuckled. "Yes, I'm feeling better now."

"Me too."

Jin Ling raised his eyebrows, expecting that Jingyi would further explain, but he didn't. He simply flopped back down on the bed and flicked his wet hair in Jin Ling's face.

"Has anyone told you that you're really annoying?" Jin Ling asked.

"Yeah, of course!" Jingyi said brightly. "Mostly you and Lan Qiren, though. Surely someone's told you the same?"

"Yeah," Jin Ling said with a chuckle. "Mostly you, Wei Wuxian, and my uncle."

Jingyi smirked. "I think Wei Wuxian has called me annoying once or twice."

"He's one to talk though."

"Haha yeah. You're lucky to have him looking out for you."

Jin Ling frowned, recalling then Wei Wuxian's failed attempt to link to him.

"Yeah. I guess."

"Damn it," Jingyi said at the look on Jin Ling's face. "I said something wrong, didn't I? I only meant that he cares for you a lot. You're very fortunate."

Something about the way he'd said that made Jin Ling's heart ache.

"I don't think I've ever asked you about your family," Jin Ling said.

Jingyi shrugged, "Not much to say really."

At that moment, Sizhui returned. The atmosphere of the room changed dramatically and even through his drunken stupor, Jin Ling didn't feel comfortable pursuing a more detailed answer.

"Are you ready, Jingyi?" Sizhui asked with a smile. He sat cross-legged by the bed such that he could see both of them from the floor.

"I guess," Jingyi said.

Jin Ling had never seen him act timidly. It was endearing. He was twirling his black hair, still wet from the rain outside, around his fingers and wouldn't look at him.

"Do we want to play the lullaby?" he asked.

"Whatever you want," Sizhui said.

A Lan lullaby was indeed what they went with. Sizhui started them off with a lovely melancholy tune. As soon as Jingyi started singing, though, Jin Ling's mouth fell open.

He really was a beautiful singer.

Jingyi belted out the words when the tune swelled to a crescendo and he sang at nearly a whisper when Sizhui played quietly. His eyes were closed the whole time, whether to keep from seeing his audience or to concentrate on the feeling of the song, Jin Ling didn't know. All he knew was that the music of his voice rivaled that of the guqin.

The song was over way too quickly.

"That was…" Typically Jin Ling would do everything in his power to avoid praising Jingyi. He was, as they'd discussed, very annoying. But, in spite of himself, he couldn't honestly deny that he'd done a great job. "That was really good."

Jingyi blushed and mumbled his appreciation. He'd never been so humble.

"You know what?" Sizhui said, beaming pridefully at Jingyi. "I will try that drink after all. How much can a little bit hurt?"

Any self-conscious feelings that Jingyi might have been grappling with dissolved instantly. He and Jin Ling were focused on Sizhui as he picked up the crystal glass and tentatively smelled the mead inside.

"If I don't like it," Sizhui said, "then I know I don't want to drink again."

Yes, and if you do like it, then you'll be in trouble, Jin Ling thought to himself.

The two on the bed leaned in as Sizhui took a sip from the glass.

"You're not going to drink more than that?" Jin Ling asked. What was the point of drinking if he wasn't going to feel it at all?

It had been maybe an eighth of an incense time, and Jin Ling and Jingyi were still watching him as he took a second sip. Then, he started to sway a little on his feet.

"Are you serious?" Jingyi muttered, jumping off the bed to come to Sizhui's aid.

Jin Ling followed suit as Sizhui started to sway even more. "You're a Wen! You don't even have Lan blood!" he hissed. "How are you this affected?! Even Jingyi did better than you!"

Sizhui didn't answer. His gaze was sliding out of focus.

Jingyi reached him first and wrapped an arm around his waist to support him. Jin Ling threw one of Sizhui's arms up across his shoulders, and together, Jingyi and Jin Ling led him to the bed. They laid him down with no fight from Sizhui.

"Come closer," Sizhui murmured as the two of them were straightening.

"What? Why?" Jingyi asked even though both he and Jin Ling had already bent down to hear him.

"I think you ought to know," he said, voice hardly more than a whisper, "that yesterday was one of the worst days of my life. And that's really saying something."

Jin Ling's throat constricted.

"Mine too," Jingyi said.

Jin Ling looked over at him for a moment. Jingyi didn't return his gaze.

By the time he returned his attention to Sizhui, Sizhui was asleep.

"Two sips?!" Jin Ling exclaimed. "Really?!"

"Help me pull him up higher."

Together, they worked to position Sizhui such that his feet were up on the bed too. It was easier said than done, though, because both Jingyi and Jin Ling were still very drunk themselves. They fumbled and tripped a lot during the process, but eventually, Sizhui was where they wanted him to be.

"Great," Jingyi said, throwing himself back onto the spot he'd lain in before. He spoke to the ceiling, "Now what?"

"I don't know," Jin Ling said.

He walked around to Jingyi's side of the bed to retrieve Sizhui's guqin from where he'd set it down. He wanted to place it on the desk where it would hopefully be safe from the three of them.

Unfortunately, he wasn't paying enough attention to where he was going, and his foot caught on Jingyi's.

"Hey! Watch it!" Jingyi snapped.

Seemingly on instinct, Jingyi caught his arm and tried to keep him from falling. In so doing, he effectively pulled Jin Ling too far, such that he instead fell on top of him.

Jin Ling's face burned. He could see every one of Jingyi's eyelashes and felt his little gasp of surprise as his chest rose against his own.

"If you didn't stick your legs out everywhere, this wouldn't have happened!" Jin Ling said quickly, trying to hide his embarrassment.

He expected Jingyi to throw him off and continue bickering with him. But instead, in a voice that was unusually quiet for him, Jingyi said something that Jin Ling never would have expected.

"I bet you won't."

Jin Ling's breath caught in his throat.

Did he mean…? No, he couldn't. But what else was there?

Jingyi was shivering beneath him, but that could have been from his soaked clothing. His chest rose and fell much faster than normal. Jin Ling noticed vaguely that he was breathing rather quickly himself.

Did Jingyi mean what he thought he meant?

Meh, came a voice in his head that he almost didn't recognize, you're drunk enough. You can always blame it on that.

Jin Ling stared at Jingyi.

He was very attractive, after all. Who would blame him?

Jingyi's eyes, though dark in color, were bright with spirit. His reddened skin was smooth and soft. His lips were parted a little.

"Watch me," Jin Ling whispered.

He leaned forward and his mouth met Jingyi's. To his surprise, Jingyi unmistakably kissed him back.

The taste of the honey greeted him. Jin Ling felt Jingyi's cold hand cup the side of his face while his other arm wrapped around his waist, drawing him in closer. Jin Ling wound his fingers in Jingyi's sleek black hair. Each time he brushed his skin, he felt a rush like tingling electricity from his head to his toes.

But every sensation was dampened. Jin Ling couldn't feel him like he thought he should be able to. The drink was making everything fuzzy.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, but when they pulled apart, they were both out of breath.

Jingyi stared at him, brow creased. Jin Ling couldn't tell if he was confused or angry. He started to pull away, just in case, but Jingyi held him tightly.

"We shouldn't have done that," Jin Ling muttered.

Jingyi continued to stare at him. For a moment, Jin Ling worried that he hadn't understood him, but then he whispered, "I can regret this when I wake."

He pulled Jin Ling back down. Even though he knew it was a mistake, Jin Ling didn't fight back. He leaned over him, drinking in the taste of the mead and an almost floral smell he'd never noticed on him before.

This time, when they pulled apart, Jingyi looked more shocked. Jin Ling stood up quickly and Jingyi followed suit.

"Why did you take the dare?" Jingyi asked, touching a hand to his own temple. "I shouldn't have dared you to do that."

Jingyi mumbled incoherently as he stumbled to the door.

"Where are you going?" Jin Ling asked.

"Back to the guest room," he answered, sounding panicked. "I shouldn't be here."

He fumbled with the door handle and let himself out into the hall.

Jin Ling didn't know what to say. Regret was already nesting in his heart.

So, he just watched him go.

"Damn it," he mumbled as he turned back and saw that Sizhui was still sprawled on his bed. "Why couldn't he have taken him along?"

The answers to such questions, though, were far out of his reach.

Not wanting to make anyone else uncomfortable, Jin Ling curled up on the brown and gold rug at the foot of his bed where Fairy sometimes napped and soon fell into a fitful slumber.