Chapter Text
People always needed to eat. Even when everything was falling apart, people needed to eat and so someone had to be the cook.
Stir the soup, move the pot slightly off the heat, taste the soup, add more pepper. She reconsidered. The soup was for A- Xian- add more pepper, some chili oil and a little more salt.
Jiang Yanli concentrated on the soup with every thought she had. That left no thoughts spare to think of the Wen cultivators lounging in the courtyard of Lotus Pier, no thoughts free to consider Wang LingJiao inspecting every room covetously, none to remember the Core Crusher with his hand resting on her brother’s shoulder, holding him hostage.
She allowed herself to consider what to serve A-Cheng and her father, as she pulled a ladle out of the basket. Not soup for them today- maybe fish stew and greens? It took no time at all to cook and they were both so wracked with fury and frustration that something light and plain would be best, or they would have indigestion as well as broken hearts. The fishermen along the pier had had a good catch this morning, she had heard; she would go there after the soup was done and see what would suit and pick up some vegetables as well. She would not doubt have a Wen shadow at her heels- they could carry the baskets.
She would not think about her mother at all.
The youngest kitchen maid flew in from the courtyard, bumping into the doorframe as she came. She steadied herself against the wood with both hands, her gaze travelling the room until she found Jiang Yanli.
“Young Mistress!” she said hoarsely, and ran across, her skirt tucked up with one hand and the other outstretched in distress. “Oh, Young Mistress!”
“A-Bei! Did someone do something to you?” Jiang Yanli dropped the ladle and scanned the girl for any sign of violence. The Wen soldiers were… not well behaved. The maids were staying inside s much as they could or waiting until a male servant was free to guard them.
“No, young mistress! Not to me! But a messenger has returned from Wen Chao and the Wens are saying… are boasting…” A-Bei’s eye were red, tears in the corners.
Jiang Yanli passed her a handkerchief from out of her sleeve and patted her arm.
“They say that Wen Chao wants Master Wei’s other hand!”. said A-Bei and burst out crying.
Jiang Yanli stared at her.
No.
She pushed the girl towards the cook, standing horrified at the hearth.
“Look after her! Say nothing!” she ordered and picked up her own skirts to run.
Through the door, up a flight of steps, then down a long corridor to the infirmary, with her heart beating out of her chest. Curtains had been drawn against the afternoon sun, and the room was dim. The healer wasn’t at her post. It was probably for the best. One fewer person to have to tell falsehoods.
Only one patient in the far bed, Wei Wuxian lying quietly, neatly, sleeping like he never slept, still as marble.
“A-Xian” she gasped, pulling his bedcover. “A-Xian, wake up. Wake up.”
His eyes opened. He looked blankly at her before recognition dawned.
“Shiije” he whispered and smiled. His smile was a faded copy of his usual grin, just as his pale face and the dark circles under his eyes were wrong. He shouldn’t look like that, like a ghost of himself.
“A-Xian” she whispered, “You have to get up, now. Can you do that?”
“Shiije” he said again, more awake now. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head.
“Get up, A-Xian.”
She tugged at his shoulder. He allowed her to sit him up, but she struggled to get him out of the bed without bumping his arm. His stump. In the end she tucked his arm across his chest and inside his tunic.
He wobbled as he put his feet to the ground.
“Where are your shoes?” she whispered, kneeling down to rummage under the bed.
He shook his head, looking exhausted already.
She gave up. He would have to go barefoot for now. It would be quieter anyway. She stood and put his left arm over her shoulder to lift him up, staggering under his weight. He was so much taller than her that it was awkward. But he was trying his best, she could see, and they made it to the door. He leaned against the wall while she peered around into the corridor.
Clear for now, and she couldn’t hear any voices. No one was coming for him yet.
“We have to get to my room. Do you think you can walk that far?”
“Shiije, what’s going on? Why your room?”
“The crawlspace.” she said. “You can hide there. Mother never knew about it.”
“It’s still there? “
She nodded.
“Why, Shiije?’
“The Wens are saying… the ones outside are saying that Wen Chao has asked for your other hand.”
He gasped, a harsh noise deep into his chest, and swayed in her grasp.
“I can’t, Shiije… I can’t…I’d rather be dead.”
“They won’t. I won’t let them.”
She shook his arm.
“I’ll get you away from them. A-Xian. A-Xian.”
He hid his face in her shoulder.
“A-Xian.” she said fiercely. “Didi. You have to walk, now. Just to my room. Just to my room, it’s not far. Didi, you have to walk with me.”
He took one deep breath, then another, and lifted his head.
“To the crawlspace, then.” he said, with forced cheerfulness. “I wonder if I’ll still fit?”
She pulled him out into the corridor, and they crabbed their way towards her bedroom. He trod on her heels a few times, nearly tripping her once, but they staggered on without falling.
Distracted, she took them around the next corner without checking and ran into the laundry maids with their basket of clean washing.
There were small shrieks from both of the maids, and her brother stood on her heels again and nearly sent her flying into the washing. They all recovered their balances and stared at each other. The taller of the maids blinked rapidly a few times, then bent and started throwing linen out of the basket.
She pointed down towards the door to the family living quarters and made a face.
“Master Wei should get in.” she whispered
Yanli helped him step in with an arm under his elbow. He curled up at the bottom and closed his eye again. The girls threw bedlinen back over him neatly and efficiently, and then each took one end of the basket.
“Which room would you like us to start with, Young Mistress?” asked A-Fei,, the taller maid, in a louder voice.
“If you could start with my room, that would be best, I think.”
“Certainly, Young Mistress!” they chirped in unison and lifted the basket. They braced their shoulders and started a slow walk. Yanli reminded herself that they carried wet washing every day, and A-Xian was not by any means heavy for his size.
There were a pair of Wens lounging by the curved entryway. They made no effort to straighten up even after Jiang Yanli came into their view, and when they saw the laundrymaids they elbowed each other and snickered.
Jiang Yanli gave them a look. She had been running a household since she was fifteen, when her father had grown tired of losing staff whenever her mother lost her temper. Yanli was not her mother, not at all, but she was not a pushover.
It worked on one of them, at least. His snicker turned into a cough, and he stood up, shifty eyed. Jiang Yanli nodded at him, and he ducked his head.
“Hey!” his companion complained, but Yanli and the maids carried on past him without sending him a glance.
Once inside Yanli’s bedroom, Yanli knelt down by the basket.
“A-Xian, quickly.”
The laundry maids kept guard on the doors as Wei Wuxian slowly clambered out. Her own maid ran over, startled.
“Young Mistress! Master Wei! What is happening?”
“We need to hide Master Wei.” Yanli said and steered her brother around her maid. She pushed him to sit on her bed. Her maid made a noise of protest.
“Young mistress! It’s not proper!”
“Oh hush!” Yanli wasn’t sure how anybody could think that Wei Wuxian could take advantage of any maiden in his current state, let alone his own shiije. If he was even interested in taking advantage of maidens at all, which she doubted.
She knelt down and threw the rug beside her bed to one side. Close to the wall there was a square of floorboards in a darker colour, and Yanli set her fingertips under the edge of the nearest board and prised it up. She pulled the board free, set it aside, and took three more boards up the same way.
“Pass me a bedcover and a pillow.” she directed. She pushed them into through the gap, into the space under the floor they had found when they were little. Once upon a time she, A- Cheng and A-Xian had all fitted in it, squashed together, giggling, sharing the sweets they had stolen from the dining table before the guests arrived and hiding from their parents. Now A- Xian had to wriggle to fit through, and there wasn’t room for him to stretch out once he was in. But he put his head on the pillow, and Yanli tucked another quilt over him, her throat tight.
“A-Xian, I have to put the rug over, so it will be dark. But I’ll be back later with some water, and some food, alright?”
He gave her a wavering smile, and a thumbs up with his left hand.
She laid the boards down again, and flipped the rug over again, then turned to face the maids.
“The Wens want his other hand.” she said, by way of explanation.
“Heavens punish them!” said her maid, in horror.
“Heaven punish them,” repeated Jiang Yanli.
She stood in front of her mother and the Wen woman and contrived a confused smile. She thought her face might split and all her fury would spill out into view, but she pressed it back.
“A-Xian?” she blinked, “but surely A-Xian is still in the infirmary.”
“He is not in the infirmary!” The Wen woman snapped and turned to Madam Yu. “I had heard your daughter had no talent, but is she actually simple?”
“Yanli’s character is naive.” said her mother, snapping a glance at Yanli that promised trouble later. “She is not given to subterfuge.”
No, thought Yanli, lowering her eyes, but I feel I could get better with practice.
As Wen Lingjiao screamed at her minions and the search began, Yanli’s mother stood beside her and put a hand on her arm. Once she was sure the Wens’ attention was elsewhere she hissed in Yanli’s ear.
“Did you visit him today?”
“No, Mother.” (It wasn’t a visit, strictly speaking.)
“Where would he go?”
“I don’t know, Mother.” (I don’t know where he would go, if he had the choice. Gusu? Gusu was burned.)
“He always makes trouble.” said her mother, almost automatically, almost with admiration and took her hand away. She shook her sleeves into position and swept out of the room. Her maids fell in behind her, giving Yanli their usual dead eyed stare as they went past.
She met her father’s eyes across the room. She could see the muscles in his jaw working. He turned away to stare through the window at the water beyond. He had barely spoken in the last two days, ever since he and Yanli had returned home to a room full of blood.
She and her father had stood at the threshold frozen in shock.
“That one is like a cockroach. He will survive.”
A- Cheng had knotted his sash around A-Xian’s elbow as a tourniquet, but both their tunics had been soaked with it. A-Cheng had been weeping. A-Xian had lain unconscious across his lap.
“Leave him be.” their mother had been saying to A-Cheng, impatiently.
The Wen woman had laughed, triumphant as she had noticed them at the door.
“Welcome home, Jiang Fiangmian!”
‘I must see to dinner” said Yanli now as placidly as she could manage. She made her bow to Jiang Fiangmian. “Father. Miss Wen. Master Wen.” She inclined her head to the stone faced man standing behind her brother. A-Cheng stared at her. He looked tortured, but she couldn’t console him.
She had to make a plan.
“You are the cook?” Wang Lingjiao sneered.
“I am in charge of the household,” said Jiang Yanli with an edge, and then remembered she was supposed to be stupid.
“And I cook.” she added, her lips slightly curved, her gaze to the floor.” On occasion.”
“How fitting. The daughter of Jiang Fengmian should prepare the meals for the Wen Clan, as all clans should serve us. You will cook for our cultivators, and for us. And if it isn’t good, there will be consequences.”
“My food is always good.” said Jiang Yanli. “I will need to go to market for supplies.”
“Go, then. Wen Zhuliu, accompany Miss Jiang. Make sure she doesn’t get lost on the way.”