Part 10 – Blossom and Cherry

Predictably, Sect Leader Jiang Cheng awaited them at the gates to Lotus Pier. Loosely arrayed behind him, the Yunmeng Jiang senior disciples maintained a fearfully respectful distance.

Looming like a guardian statue before the entrance, Jiang Cheng stared the combined parties down with unflinching intensity as they approached. Not even his dark purple robes listed in the fragrant breeze. His booted feet stood slightly apart, his arms crossed stonily at the chest. This forbidding stance, combined with the cold sneering expression on his face, would reasonably lead one to assume they’d already committed some unforgivable trespass on arrival here, and would be summarily executed for the offense.

But Wei Wuxian knew Jiang Cheng was just excited to see him.

“Well, Jiang Cheng,” he called out cheerily, “this is some welcome! Where’s that shiny new gift you promised me, eh? I don’t see it on you.”

“What am I, your servant?” Jiang Cheng shot back, glaring. “It’s at Sword Hall, of course. Go fetch it yourself.” His cold scathing gaze cut to Nie Huaisang. “What’s he doing with you?”

Nie Huaisang flinched as though he’d been struck. Wei Wuxian grinned, hugging the rattled sect leader around the shoulders.

“Would you believe it, Jiang Cheng?—we found him along the way!”

“…T-thank you for having me,” Nie Huaisang added nervously, though who he was directing his gratitude toward was difficult to say.

Jiang Cheng scoffed, glancing away. “Carousing around as usual. What a merry band of fools you are.” To Wei Wuxian’s ears, however, he sounded a little jealous. Sparing Lan Wangji a nod, Jiang Cheng said shortly, “Lan.”

Lan Wangji returned the cool greeting, “Jiang Wanyin.”

Jiang Cheng humphed. “I suppose your elder brother couldn’t be bothered to descend from his lofty perch. If it’s not Golden Carp Tower, it’s not worth his trouble.”

No matter how much Jiang Cheng achieved in this world, the giant chip on his shoulder remained firmly in place. Wei Wuxian had practically given up hope at this point that Jiang Cheng would ever stop feeling so slighted over the smallest things. Lan Wangji’s jaw clenched and his expression grew colder, but ultimately he was above Jiang Cheng’s petty baiting.

And Wei Wuxian was all too happy to answer for him, anyway—or at least to direct Jiang Cheng’s ire back toward his favorite target. Namely, Wei Wuxian himself. Laying a hand on his husband’s shoulder, Wei Wuxian stepped forward to intercede.

“Now, Jiang Cheng—”

But to the surprise of everyone, it was Nie Huaisang who responded, quite steadily, “Brother Xichen has never been one to put on such airs. If he isn’t here, it’s because he can’t be. He will descend when he is ready and able.”

Wei Wuxian smiled slightly, as the tension melted from Lan Wangji’s frigid form. Jiang Cheng’s lips pressed tight, so pale they looked almost white.

“Who the fuck asked you, Head-Shaker?!” he exploded at last, and Nie Huaisang cowed all over again.

Wei Wuxian sighed. “Jiang Cheng, don’t scold him so harshly just for speaking the truth.”

“Don’t scold me for scolding him!” Jiang Cheng shouted back. “Who are you to scold anyone, anyway? While you romp around wherever the chaos is, I practically run two sects on my own—including the great Lanling Jin!”

Jiang Cheng was darkly triumphant at the timing of this remark. It was precisely at this moment that Jin Ling appeared through the gate behind him, clothed in his flashy gold Sparks-Amidst-Snow regalia. As the young sect leader drew up haughtily beside his uncle, Fairy trotted in his wake.

This was bad enough for Wei Wuxian, whose dread of such creatures had not diminished in the slightest—but Fairy was not alone. Two smaller spirit dogs trailed after: one snowy-furred and one rosy.

At the horrific sight that met his eyes, the Yiling Patriarch went pale with fright. “Lan Zhan!” he cried, ducking behind his husband for cover. Shaking and clutching at Lan Wangji from behind, he could scarcely manage to whimper out, “It’s multiplied!”

“Don’t call Fairy an ‘it’!” Jin Ling snapped, stamping his foot.

But Wei Wuxian was beside himself. “Jin Ling, how could you?! Remember that time I made congee for you, to cure you of corpse poisoning? I thought we were close!”

“That spicy congee of yours was as bad as the poison,” Jin Ling groused, while the Lan Sect juniors grimaced in commiseration. “And anyway, what have I done?!”

“Nothing,” Jiang Cheng said curtly to him, sneering at Wei Wuxian, who was still peeping over Lan Wangji’s shoulder. “Stop screeching at my nephew. Those two are mine.” With a snap of his fingers he called first to the pale dog, then to the red one, “Blossom! Cherry!”

‘Blossom’ and ‘Cherry’ padded obediently over. Taking up heeling positions just behind their master, they flanked him like twin statues, mimicking his proud, imposing stance.

Mo Dao Zu Shi © Mo Xiang Tong Xiu