Chapter Text
"We're here, da-ye,” their driver announces as they come to a stop.
Wei Ying peers out of the window of the horse-drawn carriage, trying not to show his trepidation. High grey walls block his view of the actual buildings, broken only by a narrow alleyway that leads to the South Gate of the Lan family manor.
“A-Ying, we don’t have to go in if you don’t want to,” Jiang Fengmian tells him softly.
“Well, since we’re already here, we might as well go in,” Wei Ying replies, quickly plastering on a smile.
He lets himself out of the carriage and thanks the driver, paying him half the fee they agreed on before hurrying over to the other side so he can help his Uncle Jiang out of the carriage. A serious long-drawn illness, the untimely death of his wife, and an unscrupulous business partner have robbed him of his health and spirits and drained the family’s finances, leaving Jiang Fengmian a shell of his former self. He doesn’t leave the house much these days. But some business can only be taken care of by the head of the house and some things must be done in person, and arranging a marital union is one of them.
Wei Ying reminds the driver to wait for them and that he’ll get the rest of his fee when he brings them home, and Wei Ying tries not to think of how the high walls feel like they are closing in on him as they walk through the alleyway, Jiang Fengmian leaning heavily on him. But once they are in view of the main door, both of them stop in their tracks - a white cloth banner is hanging across the top of the door, signifying a death in the family. The Jiang family lives in the next town, so they hadn't heard any news about this or they wouldn't have come. Jiang Fengmian frowns at it but indicates that Wei Ying should knock on the door anyway.
A young man answers the door, flashing a polite dimpled smile at them that Wei Ying does not trust even though he readily reaches out to help Jiang Fengmian up the steps. There is a white mourning sash around his waist. Their guide introduces himself as Meng Yao, the assistant to the master of the house, Lan Huan. He leads them past a small narrow courtyard that has one wall entirely covered in words or what they are told is the Lan family creed, through an ornate chuihua doorway decorated with many elaborate carvings, and into the inner courtyard, which has a spacious, neat garden that Wei Ying privately thinks has too many rocks and too few plants.
According to Meng Yao, the Lan family manor was once a palace, seized from a Qing Dynasty prince who probably met a violent end with the fall of China's last imperial dynasty. It is a sprawling estate in siheyuan-style that is at least three times the size of the Jiangs’ family home. The smallest building against the south wall is the servants' quarters and the main wing in the north houses the master's chambers as well as a small private garden and an extensive library, amongst other things. That leaves the east and west wings, each with their own private courtyards, and all four wings are linked only by this inner courtyard. An estate this large and so well maintained must be served by many servants, but the place is as quiet as a tomb. It doesn't help that it is currently late winter and the trees and plants are still mostly dead, and the buildings are all in dull shades of grey, but Wei Ying can feel his spirits dropping the further Meng Yao leads them into the estate.
Wei Ying glances to his right as they cross the inner courtyard and is surprised to see someone standing just inside the stone archway that leads to the courtyard of the east wing. He is dressed in a pale blue changshan - a loose long-sleeved ankle-length robe with a high collar and a row of knot buttons slanting from his throat to below his right arm and down the length of his body, well-tailored to accentuate his broad chest and shoulders. His expression is oddly pensive and he frowns when he notices Wei Ying looking at him, so Wei Ying looks away quickly. When Wei Ying turns back a few moments later to steal another glimpse of the handsome young man, he’s already gone, but perhaps that is for the best. After all, they are here to discuss Wei Ying’s marriage, and he has to behave more appropriately from now on.
Lan Huan is waiting for them in the front room of the main wing, and Wei Ying is surprised to discover that he's very young, probably only a few years older than him, and he is dressed in a sombre black that doesn't quite suit his age and the same white mourning sash. There are dark circles under his eyes like he hasn't been sleeping well. There is nobody else in the room, no elder or matchmaker to help with the proceedings, which immediately strikes Wei Ying as a little strange.
"Your guests are here, Da-shaoye," Meng Yao announces. Wei Ying can't help noticing that he addressed Lan Huan as "eldest young master”, probably a habit from before Lan Huan inherited the duties of head of the house. And that must mean that there is at least one other younger brother - perhaps the man in the east wing?
Wei Ying belatedly realises that his changshan has gotten a little wrinkled on the journey here, and a fine layer of dust from the roads is showing up far too clearly on the dark blue material, but it's too late to do anything it now. He returns Lan Huan's bow politely, wondering if he'll get to meet the girl he's supposed to be marrying.
After pleasantries and introductions are exchanged, the guests are invited to the dining room for tea and light snacks, and Lan Huan pours out the tea for them personally. Meng Yao oversees the serving of the dishes but hurries the other servants out of the room when they are done, earning dirty looks from them. There are just four of them in the room now. Something is definitely unusual about this and the tension in the room makes the tea stick in Wei Ying’s throat.
Lan Huan clears his throat. “Uncle Jiang, I realise that this is meeting is unconventional, but I hope I can speak plainly with you.”
“You and your brother were only boys when I last saw you, but your late uncle was one of my oldest friends. There is no need to stand on ceremony,” Jiang Fengmian agrees.
"Thank you, Uncle Jiang. Actually, this is about my brother, Lan Zhan. I'm afraid he passed away a few days ago," Lan Huan says.
Wei Ying is so surprised that he blurts out, "A few days ago? Then why would you want to talk about a wedding now? Um, no offence."
"None taken," Lan Huan assures him. "Well, my brother and I are the last remaining members of our family line, and because he is younger than me, I'm not allowed to pay my respects to him. He was only 19, and has no spouse or children who can complete the proper funeral rites for him. I have had to leave his body at the funeral home instead of bringing it here, and after everything he cannot be buried in the family grave with our ancestors because by custom there is nobody who can mourn him, and I just-" Lan Huan takes a deep breath, unable to continue talking.
Meng Yao urges his employer to drink his tea, brows furrowed with worry as he murmurs words of comfort. In the silence that follows, Wei Ying fits the pieces of the puzzle together.
"Why not offer marriage to a young lady instead? Or ask the temple medium if he knows of any young man or woman who has passed away and whose family might find themselves in a similar predicament?" Jiang Fengman asks carefully.
Lan Huan puts down his cup, shaking his head. "My brother would not have been happy about being married to a woman. He had few friends and kept to himself, and I was one of the few people who knew him well, but even I underestimated the depth of his loneliness. If there is indeed an afterlife, I do not wish for him to be lonely in it as well, which is why I wished to meet your foster son before we involved a matchmaker or medium." Lan Huan turns to Wei Ying, addressing him very seriously, "I want to make sure that you understand what is being asked of you."
To marry a dead man and go through the mourning rites for him as his widower so that he can be buried in his ancestral grave. To promise to be the companion of this man in the afterlife, a man Wei Ying has never met... or has he?
"And you expect my A-Ying to be lonely all his life, bound by this unorthodox agreement?" Jiang Fengmian asks stiffly.
“I have heard that it is done in the southern provinces, that two men may go through the marriage ceremony and become qixiong and qidi under the auspices of Tu’er Shen. It is no different from being husband and wife, and if Wei-shaoye chooses to take a wife in future, his children and his wife will also be treated as my brother’s family,” Lan Huan replies earnestly. “And when our families are linked by marriage, I will of course be glad to do everything within my power give your son a hand in reviving the family business."
That is a very generous offer. The Lan family is one of the wealthiest families in the area and has extensive connections in the surrounding towns. Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng, who is only 18 this year, is struggling to be taken seriously as a businessman.
“Do you have a picture of your brother?” Wei Ying asks.
Meng Yao hurries off to fetch a photo frame from somewhere in the house. It is a family portrait - an old man sitting in the middle of the picture, flanked by Lan Huan on the left and another young man on the right. Wei Ying shivers a little when he recognises him as the man he saw in the east wing.
"Did you know my brother?" Lan Huan asks hopefully.
"I saw him standing in the courtyard of the east wing a while ago," Wei Ying confesses. Lan Huan's face grows pale and Meng Yao's eyes widen.
"Are you sure it was him?" Jiang Fengmian asks.
Wei Ying nods absently, examining the serious expression of the dead man. The quality of the black-and-white photograph erases the finer details and makes his face seem unnaturally smooth, like something carved out of a piece of jade. The man that he saw briefly - a ghost, if that’s what he was - looked more real and alive than this.
"The east wing was my brother's living quarters," Lan Huan explains. “The servants have refused to enter the wing since his body was found, but I thought it was because of... other reasons.”
“Found?” Wei Ying asks, frowning. “How did he die?”
Lan Huan hesitates. “During the storm six nights ago, my brother apparently left the house in the night to take a walk by the river, and must have slipped and fallen into the swift water. We only managed to retrieve his body two days ago and by then I only managed to recognise it by his jade pendant.”
Jiang Fengmian shakes his head and sighs, offering condolences, but Wei Ying can only stare at Lan Huan in shock. Is he saying that his brother committed suicide? Wei Ying thinks about Lan Huan telling them that his brother was lonely in life, and looks down at the photo in his hand in a different light.
“Can I have some time to think about it?” Wei Ying asks, handing the photo frame back to Lan Huan.
“Of course,” Lan Huan replies, looking disappointed. He probably thinks Wei Ying is trying to decline the offer politely.
Lan Huan sees them off personally, all the way to the South Gate. As they turn to leave, Wei Ying stops at the doorway and glances briefly at Meng Yao waiting just a few paces behind Lan Huan.
“Do you know what they say about me?” Wei Ying asks Lan Huan in a low voice.
Lan Huan smiles a little. “Yes."
“Aren’t you worried?”
“My brother is already dead. What worse luck can you bring him?” Lan Huan points out.
“I really did mean that I’m going to think about it. I’ll send a messenger with my answer before the end of tomorrow,” Wei Ying promises him, bowing as he takes his leave.
--
Jiang Fengmian clearly does not approve of the proposed match. He doesn’t say it in so many words, but Wei Ying thinks he’s angry that Lan Huan would even suggest it, that he thinks the Jiang family’s fortunes have fallen so far that they might stoop to marrying off a living person to the dead. But it really isn't so bad, Wei Ying thinks, helping the dead man and his family find peace. Even if what he'd seen had really been the ghost of the troubled Lan-Er-ye, if nobody has been able to complete the funeral rites for him, it's understandable that the spirit might be restless.
And then there's the matter of Wei Ying himself. Everyone whispers behind his back that he brings bad fortune wherever he goes - his parents died when he was seven, Jiang Fengmian's wife died soon after he brought Wei Ying home and then he fell ill from grief. Wei Ying has never been formally adopted because of his inauspicious bazi and the fortune-teller he consulted in private to try to understand what was so bad about his bazi had told him that anyone who married him would die young, which probably isn't a concern for someone who is already dead. Maybe if he leaves and marries into the Lan family, the Jiang family's luck will change, and it makes no difference to Wei Ying in the end - nobody was ever going to want to be married to him, man or woman, and the Lan family are probably the only ones willing to risk his supposed bad fortune.
In that, Wei Ying is a little like the late Lan-Er-ye, except that Wei Ying had been prepared to live vicariously through his siblings and spoil their children rotten. Perhaps two lonely souls can be friends and companions in the afterlife, since they did not have the opportunity to meet before.
In fact, the more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense to accept Lan Huan's offer. They are not so poor that they can't afford rice and simple food - yet. But all they have is basically the family house and a small mountain of debts owed to the Jin family. It wasn't so bad when Jiang Yanli was betrothed to the only son of the Jin family, but he died of tuberculosis and now his revolting cousin Jin Zixun is trying to use their debts to pressure Jiang Yanli to marry him instead.
And when they get home to find Jiang Cheng in a rage and Jiang Yanli trying not to cry because Jin Zixun has been around threatening them again, Wei Ying makes up his mind.
--
The ceremony is a subdued one because of the unusual nature of it and extremely rushed, but the Lan family does not do them the disrespect of missing out any part of it. A man named Xiao Xingchen who is a medium by trade but acting as the matchmaker arrives with the formal proposal letter and requests for Wei Ying's bazi even though they all know that it doesn't matter at this point, and the betrothal gifts are sent over the day after Wei Ying finally convinces Jiang Fengmian to agree to the match - bolts of fine silk, jewellery, a whole roast pig, two live chickens, wedding cakes, expensive wine and tea, and a red paper envelope containing the hefty bride price that was agreed upon, more than enough to pay off their debts. There is no noisy grand procession from the Lan family to fetch Wei Ying although they do send a nice car decorated with red rosettes instead of a rickety horse carriage. Wei Ying kneels and serves Jiang Fengmian tea in gratitude for raising him, and then it's time to go. His sister weeps openly even when he reminds her that he's only going to be half a day's travel away and Jiang Cheng's eyes are suspiciously red when they send him off decked in a traditional groom's outfit - a dark blue silk changshan embroidered with dragons and a black magua or riding jacket over it. He goes to the Lan family house alone as is custom, although Xiao Xingchen does his best to put Wei Ying at ease.
The rest of the ceremony is surreal, and Wei Ying can only follow the medium’s instructions blindly as he leads them through the wedding rites. A white rooster is brought before the ancestral altar to stand in for Wei Ying’s husband in the proceedings, struggling in the arms of a servant. It's so absurd that Wei Ying almost loses his hold on the nervous laughter threatening to burst out of him; then as the medium invites the spirit of the dead man to possess the rooster and places the dead man’s jade pendant around its neck, it goes completely still. Its claws grasp the other end of the red sash that Wei Ying is holding when it is offered to it and surely the temperature in the room has just dropped several degrees because Wei Ying can feel the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end as the rooster swivels its head to look around the room with a slow measured movement and stops to meet his eyes with its unblinking gaze for a second before turning to face the altar.
After that, Wei Ying tries not to look at the rooster at all when they bow to heaven and earth, then to the ancestral tablets on the altar, and finally to each other. They are ushered to the bed chamber of the east wing and the medium takes the pendant off the rooster once Wei Ying has sat down gingerly on his wedding bed. The rooster lets out a loud squawk, wings and legs flailing, and the servant brings it out to release it in the courtyard while Xiao Xingchen hands Wei Ying the pendant.
“Congratulations on your wedding, San-ye,” he tells Wei Ying with a smile, and retreats from the room gracefully.
He's all alone now, in an unfamiliar room and unfamiliar house. Wei Ying looks around and sighs, shoulders sagging. He gets up to place the pendant on the table and shrugs out of his jacket, then splashes some warm water on his face from a basin. Two bowls of sticky dumplings in sweet soup have been placed on the table, and he’s barely eaten anything all day so he settles down and grabs a spoon.
“Hey, Lan Zhan,” he speaks into the empty room as he chews. “If you’re here and you can hear me, tomorrow we’re going to do the proper funeral rites for you so you can move on. Good night."
He doesn’t get an answer and he isn’t sure what he’d have done if he did. Wei Ying wipes off the grime from the day as best as he can with the water and washcloth provided and gets undressed, curling up on the big empty bed.
If he had looked properly into the mirror on the dressing table at any point, he would have seen a man in a light blue changshan standing at the darkest corner of the room, watching him.