Chapter Text
Lan Jingyi wiped the sweat off his brow and hoisted his tattered backpack up with his sore arms. The sun sat at the top of the bright blue sky, unfiltered by clouds, and he could feel his clothes starting to stick to his skin. Not that it mattered to him anymore. He had finally made it to his destination after weeks of traveling, his legs aching from the long hike. Despite that, he looked around with large curious eyes.
Lanling was much bigger than he had imagined it to be, with its high walls and even higher towers, and as much as he felt out of place, he smiled at his new surroundings, eager to explore.
After passing the large stone walls, Lan Jingyi found himself mesmerized by the sights and sounds. He watched as countless merchants shouted at everyone passing by, showcasing their wares, displaying their fruits, and begging everyone to have a quick taste of their new pork buns. His distraction nearly caused him to crash into the local workers who rushed by, eager to reach their destinations. Over on the side, he could see children running around, playing games as their mothers shouted for them to come back indoors. Lan Jingyi watched it all with a large grin, enjoying every minute of being in the crowd.
Grandmaster Lan had told him that their small town of Caiyi used to be just like this before the war with the Wens reduced their numbers. He imagined briefly what it might have been like to grow up in a bustling city such as this rather than in his rural village.
His throat was parched, and his stomach rumbled loudly, pain tugging at his abdomen. Lan Jingyi had run out of coins in the last town, indulging himself with some overpriced lotus soup, assuming he would be fine for the remainder of the trip. After all, there had only been one day left of his journey, and Lan Jingyi had been sneakily practicing his cultivation, so his body wouldn’t need food that often. Not that anyone needed to know. Unfortunately, fate had other plans, and he woke up to his food and water scavenged by the local wildlife. He had glared at the monkey holding his last steamed bun, and the monster had the nerve to eat it in front of him.
Ignoring the rumbling in his stomach, Lan Jingyi approached the gates and looked up at the castle with its high walls that were covered in yellow and orange peonies, making them look almost golden from a distance.
However, he was disappointed once he reached the castle gates. He was expecting smooth metal coated in gold, but instead, he was met with dark iron bars and two guards who looked like they wanted to be anywhere else.
Upon seeing him, they immediately moved to block his path.
"State your business," said the guard on the right, his breath reeking of booze.
Lan Jingyi scrunched up his nose and looked at the man. His brown eyes were dull and there was a bit of sweat dripping on the side of his face, rolling down slowly as the man drove his gaze onto him. Lan Jingyi then turned his attention to the guard on the left, noticing the way the man’s false eye was stained brown with mud and what he refused to believe was blood. He quickly looked away, not wanting to antagonize them. Well, not yet anyway.
"I'm here to see Doctor Wen,” he responded, puffing out his chest for more grandeur.
The two guards looked at him skeptically.
"Oh! Right, here,” he fumbled with his bag and pulled out a scroll, signed by Lan Xichen himself.
The guard on the left snatched the scroll out of his hand, and Lan Jingyi had to hold back the urge to roll his eyes. They carefully inspected the letter, holding it up to the sky as if anyone had the penmanship to forge Lan Xichen's seal. Seemingly satisfied, they handed him the scroll and stepped to the side.
“Enter,” said the one on the right, and Lan Jingyi grinned broadly, his hands each gripping a strap of his bag.
However, before he could even take a step further, an old woman ran up to him and gripped his arm. Her hair was disheveled, stray pieces falling out of her bun and her face was puffy, her eyes red.
“Please, young master, my grandson. He’s done nothing wrong. He merely wanted to protect our farmland. He is not evil, I swear by it. Please do something,” she sobbed, her nails digging into his skin.
Lan Jingyi couldn’t get a word out before the two guards roughly seized the woman by her arms, snatching her away. Tears rolled down her face as she attempted to kick them. Her pleas didn’t stop, and Lan Jingyi was afraid she would faint from crying so hard.
As the woman continued to struggle, one of the guards turned around to face Lan Jingyi, his sharp look challenging the boy to a fight. Lan Jingyi clenched his fists and felt power surge through his meridians. Surely Old Man Lan would forgive him for punching the royal guard, even if it was the first day. Lan Jingyi was sure the kids back home had all bet on how long he was going to stay in Lanling. Someone was about to earn some extra rations soon. He was just about to step up when a stern voice came from behind him.
“Release her,” it commanded, causing Lan Jingyi to startle and step back.
He crashed into the woman behind him, falling to the floor, and looked up, only to see his mentor’s face, strict and unmoving as she glared daggers at the guards.
He had only seen Wen Qing once, back when he was about five years old. He was scared of the new caregiver and had hidden behind some crates. Soon, he heard the shuffling of feet and Lan Jingyi was fully prepared to be caught and dragged back to the common room. What he wasn’t prepared for was eavesdropping on a private conversation. He peered over the crate to see his old teacher, resignation written all over his face, as Lan Xichen explained why the older man should seek treatment for an ailment Lan Jingyi couldn’t hear. The doctor quietly stood off to the side, looking so small next to one of the Jin knights. He doesn’t remember the exact words that were exchanged, but he does recall Lan Xichen finding him after Lan Jingyi let out a sneeze.
He was surprised to hear her demanding voice now.
“Hmph, this peasant woman was causing trouble, no need to concern yourself,” said the guard with the artificial eye.
The one that smelled of alcohol nodded, tightening his grip on the woman as she yelled out in pain.
“Do you think the King would want his walls dirtied with the blood of a peasant woman?" Wen Qing asked without any sympathy for the sobbing woman now kneeling on the floor.
The guards looked at each other questioningly before looking at the walls. To Lan Jingyi’s surprise, they dropped the woman. Angry, he knelt next to her, helping her up as she clutched his sleeves.
“Please. He’s so young,” she sobbed.
Lan Jingyi watched as Wen Qing's eyes softened slightly and she whispered something - too quiet for Lan Jingyi to hear- to the old woman as she held her hand. He leaned closer only to be hit by the woman’s wail, a desperate and broken sound that made his heart drop to his gut. He watched as another woman ran up and grabbed the elder’s arm.
“My apologies doctor,” she stammered, trying to calm the other woman down.
Wen Qing reached for her pouch and offered a small jar. The smaller woman refused.
"For her knees," Wen Qing insisted and the woman nervously bit her lips, slowly reaching out, offering a quiet thanks.
The guards had moved back to their spots, bored with the scene in front of them, and Lan Jingyi watched the two women leave, the elder still crying onto the younger’s shoulders.
"What? Gaining sympathy from the poor? You're still a dirty little Wen for all they care. How would the royal family feel knowing you just give their medicine away like that?" the smelly one sneered.
Wen Qing smirked.
"I'm sure the family would love to know that the people view the royal family positively due to all the care they provide. However, how do you think they'd feel knowing the guard at the front gate sneaks into the royal wine cellar and drinks until he passes out?"
The man froze and she smirked.
"Next time, try to make sure you don't smell like you've been bathing in the stuff. Come, Jingyi,” Wen Qing said, walking back towards the castle.
Shaking himself, Lan Jingyi fixed his bag once again before quickly following behind.
Despite being the head doctor, Wen Qing lived in a modest home. It consisted of two bedrooms, and a main room that had only a kitchen and small wooden table. Books were stacked neatly on the shelves that lined the walls, next to bottles of herbs that soaked their scent into the wood. The place was pristine, with not a single speck of dust in sight.
“I’ve prepared the second room for you. You may leave your things in there,” Wen Qing stated as she walked over to the congee pot.
Lan Jingyi’s stomach rumbled at the sight and he quickly went toward his room.
After sharing a room with the other war orphans, Lan Jingyi was overjoyed to finally have his own space. Sighing in relief, he tossed his belongings on the floor and collapsed onto his bed.
He grinned as he looked up at the ceiling, giddy with excitement. He was here, in Lanling, no longer chained to the confinements of Caiyi and family rules.
Sure he had heard that Wen Qing was a strict woman, and not only was she the niece of the previous king, she had also stood alongside the infamous Yiling Laozu. One of the smaller children had wept, crying about how she was sure Lan Jingyi was going to die at the hands of the evil Wen. Grandmaster Lan had simply shook his head at that, ordering the children to stop with the nonsense and punishing them all with stable duty for gossiping.
It wasn’t long before Wen Qing knocked on his door, bringing him out of his thoughts.
“Lunch is ready,” she said and Lan Jingyi got up and quickly sat down at the table.
The bowl was already filled and waiting for him so he dug in, thanking Wen Qing in between his bites. She simply huffed with amusement before beginning to eat.
The meal was, well, Lan Jingyi didn’t want to complain, but he wished he had bought some spices from Yunmeng instead of the soup. Also, he had expected more. He had heard rumors of the flavors Qishan used to have, and how some vendors would sneak some of the spices to flavor their food to attract more customers. He looked down at his bowl and frowned. Wen Qing seemed oblivious to this, taking small bites of her own food as Lan Jingyi played around with his spoon.
“Not good?” Wen Qing finally asked, looking up at him.
“What? No, Doctor Wen, it’s very…flavorful,” Lan Jingyi sputtered out, immediately regretting his choice of words.
Wen Qing raised her eyebrows slightly as she glanced at his pale congee.
He didn’t want to offend the Wen doctor, so to prove his point, Lan Jingyi quickly shoved a few spoonfuls into his mouth, humming in approval. Wen Qing sighed as she got up to get Lan Jingyi a glass of water as he choked, patting his back as he gulped the water down.
“Here,” she reached out and handed him a small pouch while Lan Jingyi wiped the water from his mouth. “Get something you like. But don't go spending all of it. That's all I'm giving you for the month.”
Lan Jingyi looked at her in shock. He didn't expect her to give him anything if he was being honest. He returned her gesture with a wide grin, loosening a bit more in her presence.
"Thank you, Doctor Wen," he said as he gave a hasty bow and stumbled out of the door.
Lan Jingyi browsed the different stalls until his eyes fell upon the ones selling rice cakes. He dashed over, and the vendor simply laughed as he enthusiastically bought a bowl. He quickly sat down and took a bite, relishing in the chewy texture and spices, and gave the vendor a thumbs-up, making the man laugh again.
As he ate he heard a commotion coming from up the road. Nothing alarming, just gossiping voices rising in volume, letting others know something fun was going on. Curious, he finished off his bowl and thanked the man before he walked over to the crowd. He peered over the heads of the onlookers, mentally thanking his Lan height. He hoped it was something interesting, the kids back home would definitely want to hear about it.
After getting a few elbows to the ribs by the different townspeople, he was finally able to take a look. There was a young man, dressed head to toe in gold, kicking down an old vendor. The vendor looked up at the young man with frightened eyes and shaky hands as his goods were kicked around and scattered around him. Lan Jingyi frowned.
“How dare you say that man’s name?! How dare you mention him in front of me?!” the young man shouted angrily, his dog growling next to him.
The vendor trembled, apologies spilling from his mouth at rapid speed.
At this, the young man scoffed and continued kicking away the man’s goods, the talismans flying away in the wind. Lan Jingyi watched the vendor’s face shatter as he frantically tried to save what he could.
“You dare?” the one in gold asked, and raised his foot to kick the man once more.
Lan Jingyi felt anger rush through him again and he shoved his way toward the front.
“Hey!” he exclaimed, standing between the young man and the vendor. “That’s enough.”
He heard the murmurs of the crowd and saw a brief look of surprise flash on the other's face before settling back to anger.
“And who are you?” he asked as the crowd started to back away.
“Lan Jingyi,” he said with a deep bow, exaggerating his respect.
Grandmaster Lan had taught them all the importance of etiquette. He always lectured about manners and how they should live their lives in a respectful way.
“If you respect others, others will respect you.”
Maybe this guy just needed a demonstration.
“Lan Jingyi,” the golden boy dragged out. “And who do you think you are?”
Lan Jingyi quickly came up, hands on his hips.
“Listen, just let the man go. Unlike you, he works hard for his money,” Lan Jingyi said, and the crowd murmured in disapproval.
“What’s their problem?” he thought.
The young man scoffed once more and took a step toward Lan Jingyi. He had a scowl on his face, making him look older than he probably was, and his brown eyes looked nearly copper in the sun. Lan Jingyi noticed that he carried himself with an air of arrogance, and he wondered what kind of parents would allow their child to have an attitude like that. Grandmaster Lan definitely wouldn’t.
“He sells talismans made by the Yiling Laozu,” the boy clenched his fist.
“Why was he doing that?! Was he an idiot?!” Lan Jingyi scolded the vendor in his mind.
He paused.
“Still no reason to kick him though.”
“Okay, at least he does something. It’s not like he’s the evil man himself. Just let him go,” Lan Jingyi said.
He turned to tell the vendor to leave, only to see the man had disappeared.
“You're welcome,” he mentally rolled his eyes.
The dog growled once more and the young man took yet another step toward him.
“And if I don’t? What are you going to do about it?” he asked, either not realizing the vendor had fled or just didn’t care.
Lan Jingyi let out an exasperated sigh. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
The young man let out a bark of laughter, looking at Lan Jingyi with disbelief. Lan Jingyi looked at him and his dog, both decked in gold and silently laughed. He always heard that the Jins were wealthy beyond imagination. They would talk about it in the village wistfully, imagining the way their own lives could improve with even just a spoon from the Jin kitchens. But apparently having wealth didn't necessarily equal having taste.
Or manners.
“Oh really? Go on then, if you can beat me then I’ll leave the man alone,” he said, a mocking smile on his face.
Lan Jingyi took a step back.
“Go on. Or is there no actual power behind those words?” he continued.
Oh, Grandmaster Lan is going to kill me.
Lan Jingyi raised his fist, his pride and adrenaline spiking as he envisioned himself knocking some sense into the entitled boy. But before he could even move, the young man took his hand and slammed him onto the dusty floor, his arm now securely tucked behind his back and his knees now aching from impact.
“You know, this was kind of funny, but I’m definitely going to arrest you for this,” he said, his breath brushing past Lan Jingyi’s ears.
“Oh really?” Lan Jingyi chuckled. “Who are you? The king?”
The golden boy laughed. “No, I’m Jin Ling, his grandson.”