Chapter Text
A-Cheng is eight.
Eight is an auspicious number; his mother told him so on the eve of his most recent birthday, the closest she’s come to giving him praise. A-Niang is warm and wise, even if she speaks to A-Cheng in tones rivaled only by the chilliest winters. Lotus Pier never gets too cold anyways.
His father had briefly picked him up before setting him down once more, but for a moment A-Cheng was up in the air and in his arms, and so it was the fourth time he had been held by his father. Four wasn’t auspicious, not in the slightest, but A-Cheng is sure the number will go up.
A-Cheng has three dogs: Jasmine, Princess, and Love. All honorable names, even if his father refuses to address them by such and his mother turns her head whenever they’re in her view. At least his sister likes them.
A-Cheng’s sister was the best; Jiejie was kind, and pretty, and good at everything she needed to be good at. She likes to make A-Cheng soup, although she isn’t allowed to be in the kitchen too often. It’s improper, they say. A-Cheng doesn’t care. Jiejie likes it, and A-Cheng likes Jiejie. When he’s sect leader, Jiejie will be able to make as much soup as she wants.
For now, though, he is only eight, and sitting by the pier as he plays with his dogs. Jasmine is by his side, licking his face as he strokes the fur down her back. Princess and Love are playing together, tugging a stray disciple’s robe between their mouths.
A-Cheng lays down on the wooden pier, rolling about in the sun. It is a lazy day; no one has come to see him yet, save for his sister, who dropped by with a smile before disappearing elsewhere. He wishes to accompany her, but is told he is still too young. Peh! Don’t they know he is already eight?
Suddenly, a shadow and breeze flow past him. A-Cheng lifts his head, finding deep purple robes swarming his vision. He makes a grab for them, scrambling up to chase the quickly disappearing sight.
“A-Die!”
“Not now,” his father says. His pushes A-Cheng away, looking around for an empty spot. Finding a suitable location, he pulls out his sword, the silver gleam of the blade dancing under the sun. There is an odd expression on his face. A-Cheng can best classify it as ‘happy’, although he has never quite seen his father so joyous before. It is an odd sight.
“Yiling, you said?” his father asks one of the men accompanying him. They nod, and the grin on his father’s face grows even wider. With a kick, he is in the air, standing upon his sword as it flies off, leaving A-Cheng behind, his feet jumping up and down as he tries to catch his father.
“Bye bye!” he waves to the empty air, wiggling his fingers. Jasmine barks, running laps around him as A-Cheng falls to the ground, a small huff escaping his lungs. He wonders where his father went off too, and why he is in such a rush. Perhaps he’s brought back more dogs for A-Cheng? Or snacks? Snacks are also suitable.
What A-Cheng doesn’t expect to see him return with is a child, a boy, wrapped in his father’s outerrobes and bundled in his arms. He is shivering, and his father presses him closer to his chest as a result, a response brought out by the need to warm or comfort.
A-Cheng has never been held by his father in such a way. He wonders if he will if A-Cheng cleans up his room and asks nicely.
“What is that?” his mother asks, eying the bundle in his father’s arms. She is standing besides his sister, who is trying to get a better look at the new child. “You bought a street rat?”
“This is her child,” his father says. His mother’s face goes stiff. A-Cheng doesn’t know what’s wrong, but he is farther away from his family than they are to each other, so he creeps up to his father, who seems much more approachable than his mother at the current moment.
“Who’s child?” he asks, stretching himself up on his toes. His father sets the child down, and A-Cheng is pleased to find he is a little taller than this stranger.
“A friend of mine,” his father says. “This is your new brother, Wei Ying.”
“Brother—” his mother starts, but A-Cheng has already stopped listening, long since used to tuning out the sound of parents yelling.
“Hello,” he says to his brother. His brother is shy, but he blinks a smile at A-Cheng and waves.
“I’m A-Cheng,” he says, except his mother is dragging him by the ear, and tugging his head down and hissing in his ear, and suddenly he is not A-Cheng, he is Jiang Cheng, and he and Wei Ying are not of the same family.
His father laughs, but it is starkly different from the hearty laughs he hears from shop owners, or the floaty giggles of the aunties who like to pinch his cheeks. His father’s laugh holds no emotion, and as he brings his mother outside, Jiang Cheng thinks that must be the reason why she is always so expressive: she must hold his father’s emotions as well.
His sister introduces herself to his brother, and says it’s no matter, to ignore their mother, and that they are all siblings in the end. His brother grins and says that she is pretty, and his sister flushes, but of course Jiejie is pretty, and if they are to be brothers his Gege must know this fact as well as he knows himself.
This is nice, Jiang Cheng thinks. Having a brother is quite different than having a sister, and he doesn’t think he can make soup, but perhaps Gege will tousle with him like his sister cannot, and they will swim in the lakes and play with his dogs.
Except his brother pales when Jiang Cheng tries to introduce his dogs to him, and screams when they get closer. Their father comes rushing in, scooping up his brother and shooing his dogs away.
“You will have to get rid of those mutts,” he says, patting his brother on the back, rubbing soft circles to soothe away the pain. He does not care that Jiang Cheng is hurt. He cares even less that Jiang Cheng is mad.
His sister tries to comfort him, saying that it is for the good of their brother, but Jiang Cheng finds he does not care much for their brother right now. He just arrived, and with a scream is able to drag away Jiang Cheng’s precious dogs.
Jiang Cheng runs off to his room, where he finds attendants coming in and out, swarming it like a group of ants. His mother stands at the doorway, arms crossed, like a pillar of resentment placed at the front of his door. She stares at Jiang Cheng as he approaches, cocking an eyebrow.
“You’re to share your room with him,” she says. Jiang Cheng does not understand until she points inside, where a new bed is being placed down, the attendants carrying out the make shift beds he had spent a week crafting for his dogs.
“Stop!” he cries, running after the attendants, circling around them, much like Jasmine had did earlier that day. He reaches up to grab the materials in their hands, but they raise their arms up into the sky, and he can only helplessly stretch his arms up in an attempt to follow them.
Jiang Cheng is eight. He is big, but not that big, and right now he feels very, very small.
“I don’t want them to go,” he wails. He runs to find his dogs, but they are not at the pier where he left them, and so he runs around the rest of the sect, calling out desperately to his three companions.
Disciples notice his cries, but simply turn their heads. Jiang Cheng knows they know, but are not telling him. His father had told them to be quiet, then. Jiang Chang would try to pry it out of them, but he knows his father is not to be disobeyed. He understands; he is often told to be quiet as well.
Still, that does not stop him from trying to find them regardless. If no one can help him, he will help himself. But night falls, and Jiang Cheng is tired, and he has not eaten much since the sun was up.
Dejected, he drags himself back into his room, where he comes across his brother, knocking on his door. He startles when he sees Jiang Cheng outside.
“They said you were inside and didn’t want to speak to me,” he says. “Can I go in? Sect Leader Jiang said I could sleep here.”
Jiang Cheng nearly considers it before remembering just who caused the disappearance of his dogs. “No! Go away!”
“But--”
“Or I’ll get my dogs to come after you!”
His brother startles, eyes darting around as if they would appear at any moment. Jiang Cheng smirks, feeling the rush of triumph for the first time that day. Serves him right!
“Then can I be let in?”
Jiang Cheng’s face falls, morphing into a scowl once more. “No! This is my room!”
“But--but Sect Leader Jiang said that--”
“I don’t care what he said! I don’t want you here, street rat!”
His brother’s face falls, and before Jiang Cheng can react, he runs away, leaving Jiang Cheng to stand alone. Good, Jiang Cheng didnit want to deal with him anyways. He opens the door, shutting it behind him with as much force as he can muster. Dropping onto his bed, Jiang Cheng doesn’t bother getting undressed before falling asleep.
He is awoken by gentle knocking on the door. Jiang Cheng is tired, but the only person who knocks that way is his sister, and so he opens the door for Jiejie.
She cranes her neck inside, looking around the room, eyes settling on the empty bed next to him.
“Where’s A-Ying?” she asks. Jiang Cheng shrugs, turning around to go back to bed. His brother’s whereabouts is none of his business.
“A-Cheng,” she calls. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know!” he says. “He ran off someone. Maybe he’s dead.”
“A-Cheng!” Her tone is scolding, and though it’s gentle it’s much harsher than she’s ever spoken to him before and Jiang Cheng is scared.
“I’m going to go look for him,” she says. “You come too.”
“I want to sleep,” he whines. He’s eight, and eight year olds need to sleep alot so they grow up to be strong Sect Leaders. His sister was the one to tell him this, so why was she making him stay up to look for their brother?
“You’re going to look for him,” she says, grabbing his arm. She leads him outside, and they search around the sect grounds, finding no trace of their brother.
“We’re going outside,” she declares, and she has never, never been this daring for Jiang Cheng, so he assumes this is very important, and doesn’t say anything, simply nods.
They split up, but before they can part ways his sister grabs him by his robes, forcing him to look her in the eye.
“If you go home before he find him,” she says. “I’ll tell A-Die and A-Niang this was your fault.”
“Okay!” he grumbles, wiggling around. What was so good about their brother anyways?
He doesn’t want to get in trouble with their father; the only time he receives any attention from him is when Jiang Cheng is being scolded, so he knows all too well the sting of his father’s wrath. He searches high and low for his brother, but still can’t find him. Where could he be hiding?
In the dark, Jiang Cheng’s vision is lacking, and he ends up tripping over a rock and a bush. The branches cut at his skin, and his legs ache from collapsing, but he picks himself up, patting the sides of his legs in hopes that it will make them feel better. It doesn’t.
They ache, and as the sheltered son of the sect leader, Jiang Cheng has grown up not knowing of pain. It is a foreign feeling, and his first vivid memory of it will be of him sitting on the ground in the middle of the night, alone, the cuts on his legs bleeding.
He wants to go home, to run into his mother’s arms, but his sister would be so upset if he did, and he doesn’t want to make her mad. Plus, his brother is still out there, and as mad as Jiang Cheng is at him, he thinks he wouldn’t really like it if he were dead.
Jiang Cheng stands up, continuing his search. He calls out to his brother, the name echoing out into the open air. It feels like no one is listening, but that’s okay. No one usually has time to listen to Jiang Cheng anyways.
His brother sure is a hassle, Jiang Cheng thinks. He lays down on the ground, staring up at the sky. He wonders where his dogs are now. They’re so spoiled, they must be given to a rich owner who will spend all their wealth showering them in goods. They deserve nothing less.
Jiang Cheng sniffs. He could spoil them, if only they could stay. He knows they can’t, but that doesn’t mean he likes that they left. If he knew, he would have spent some more time with them playing on the pier.
Jiang Cheng is eight, he is tired, he has cuts on his legs, and he misses his dogs. These facts seem to sum up his identity in the moment, a speck of his life frozen in time by four simple facts.
He closes his eyes; his sister said not to return home until his brother was found, but she never said anything about sleeping outside.
When he comes back into consciousness, the sun is back, waving at him cheerfully as he blinks himself awake. Jiang Cheng pulls himself up, brushing off the grass clinging to his robes.
It’s morning now; surely his brother has been found by now. If not, he must have wandered back home; even if he was upset, the need to sleep and eat would have lured him back to the safety of Lotus Pier. It is what is drawing Jiang Cheng back now, his stomach grumbling as he recalls he never did have dinner last night.
As he wanders back in, he’s immediately noticed by a wandering disciple, who ushers him towards his father’s office. His sister is waiting for him at the front, holding their brother’s hand. Jiang Cheng brightens when he sees this; it means he came back after he was found.
“Where have you been?” their sister asks. It seems she is still cross with him, but Jiang Cheng has listened to her words, and so she can’t stay upset for too long.
“I just woke up,” he replies. “I was waiting for Jiejie and Gege outside, and I fell asleep.”
“Me?” their brother says, pointing to himself. Jiang Cheng nods, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He only has one brother, who else but him?
“You can stay in my room,” Jiang Cheng says. He’s decided it’s not worth fighting the issue anymore. Sharing a room with his brother is still much better than sleeping on the grass outside. His neck still feels sore. “But you can’t put your stuff on my side of the room.”
Their brother lights up, grinning at Jiang Cheng. “Thank you, A-Cheng!”
“I have to clean up first,” Jiang Cheng says. Their sister frowns, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder.
“It’s already been cleaned,” she says. “It’s not of good character to lie, A-Cheng.”
“How was I supposed to know?” Jiang Cheng protests. “I haven’t been back since last night!”
She stills, tilting her head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“You said I wasn’t allowed to go back until Gege was found,” Jiang Cheng reminds her. Their sister’s face freezes, and Jiang Cheng has the feeling that something is very, very wrong.
“You didn’t go back?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Her face falls, lips pursing together as her eyes fill with tears. “Oh A-Cheng, I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“What’s wrong?” their brother asks, tugging on their sister’s sleeve. Jiang Cheng shrugs.
She doesn’t get the change to respond, because it’s then that the door to their father’s study opens, and they’re greeted by the sight of him.
“A-Cheng,” he says. His volume is quiet, but his tone is dangerous, and Jiang Cheng is only eight, but past experience has told him to never anger his father.
And right now, he sounds furious.
“Good morning, A-Die.”
“Come with me,” he says, nodding to Jiang Cheng’s siblings. “Good morning, you two.”
“Hello Sect Leader!” his brother says.
“I told you to call me Uncle, A-Ying,” their father laughs. Jiang Cheng has never heard his father laugh before. It leaves a funny feeling in his stomach, like overhearing a secret not meant for him. “I’ll sort this issue out for you, okay?”
“What?” Jiang Cheng asks. It’s all he’s able to do before being dragging inside. He stands before their father as he sits down, looking at Jiang Cheng from above, like a monarch staring at his disobedient servant.
“Your sister told me what happened last night,” he starts, the quiet fury filling the room with a sense of dread. Suddenly, Jiang Cheng understands why his sister seemed so apologetic.
He receives ten lashes, the cuts on his legs further stimulated. His siblings accompany him as he goes to receive his punishment, faces drained of blood as his spills out on the floor. Despite the pleas of his sister and the cries of his brother to “stop, what are you doing to him!?”, Jiang Cheng’s punishment is delivered efficiently, each strike digging into him.
He receives his punishment silently; the voices of his siblings were enough for all three of them. They aren’t there when it’s over, having run off to go find their father. His mother reaches him first, wrapping him up in her arms and taking him back to her room, the one she doesn’t share with his father.
She tends to his injuries, scowling when she finds bruises a whip can’t form. “You will not get injured for his sake in the future.”
“But you said that one should protect their family,” Jiang Cheng says. It seems as if he’s the only one who remembers what anyone around here says.
“He is not family.” His mother’s expression is ugly, and there is a glint in her eye that is wild and particularly vicious.
“Because he’s not a Jiang?”
“I am not a Jiang,” she snaps. “He is not family because he’s a street rat, and we don’t associate with vermin.”
Jiang Cheng doesn’t think his brother is all that bad, but he knows his mother is not in the mood to hear his thoughts. She usually isn’t, so he doesn’t let it bother him. “A-Niang, why are you not a Jiang?”
“Jiang’s are soft,” she sneers. “Impossible to deal with. Your father and your sister, the two of them, prime examples of people who let their emotions claw down their logic, if they even had some in the first place.”
“Then what am I?” Jiang Cheng asks.
His mother looks at Jiang Cheng, sitting on her bed, his bandaged legs swinging back and forth. Her eyes soften for a moment before going sharp, and she turns her head, looking away from him. “You are his mistake.”
Jiang Cheng is eight, and unwanted.
- - - -
“Da-ge.”
“Da-ge.”
“Da-ge!”
“What,” he groans, looking down at his little brother, who giggles before scampering up onto his bed. “You think it’s funny to disturb your brother’s rest?”
“Yes!” his brother chirps. Nie Mingjue scowls, picking up his brother and dropping him onto the space next to him. His brother lands with a squeal, flopping onto the soft fabric.
“Da-ge, I want a didi,” he says, banging on Nie Mingjue’s chest. Nie Mingjue swats his hands away, but that only leads to his ears getting pulled.
“Go ask your dad.”
“He said to ask you!”
“Well I’m not the one who can give you a didi,” Nie Mingjue grumbles. “What brought this on?”
“A-Sang doesn’t want to be the littlest anymore.”
“Too bad.”
“Da-ge!”
“Shut up, I’m trying to sleep.” He turns over, ignoring the fac that his brother was now climbing onto his back, bringing his hands down to violently shake his shoulders.
How was he supposed to find a new brother anyways? Unless one came barreling into their arms, there’s no way it was going to happen. Huaisang would just have to put up with being the youngest.
Sensing that the soft punches to his back had stopped, Nie Mingjue lifts his head, craning his neck to find his brother had started to drift off, hands now clasping bunched up handfuls of his robes instead. Nie Mingjue snorts, shifting his back to his brother slides off to the side. As he settles back into his bed, his brother leans his head into chest, hand grasping his pinky.
“Another didi, Da-ge, imagine it…” he mumbles half consciously, snuggling into the pillow below them.
Nie Mingjue hums, pulling his brother closer. He can hear the soft breaths even out, turning into light puffs of air as his brother slowly falls asleep.
Another one of these wouldn’t be so bad, he thinks before drifting off himself. They would have to be better behaved than Huaisang, though, because there way no way he could raise two of those without balding prematurely.
Yes, the idea didn’t seem so bad.