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fandomweekly2021-09-06 12:29 pm
curiosity) wrote in fandomweekly2021-09-06 12:29 pm
Entry tags:
[#107] - Lotus and Lightning - (MDZS)
.
Theme Prompt: #107 - Afterlife
Title: Lotus and Lightning
Fandom: MDZS
Rating/Warnings: M / Jiang Cheng dies during a storm. His nephew arrives in time to revive him with Zidian, a ring that becomes a whip made of lightning. Bzzt!
Bonus: Yes!
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: Jiang Cheng is dead, and then he isn't. Putting "A" in front of something denotes affection, like calling "Mike", "Mikey" instead. "A-Jie" means sister, but cutesy. "Didi" means little brother. "A-Niang" is mother and "A-Die" is father. "A-Xuan" is Jiang Yanli's husband, Jin Zixuan who gets himself killed about halfway through the novel and fucks the whole thing up. "A-Ling" is Jin Ling, the son of Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan. He lives, both his parents die. Jiang Cheng does a lot of his bringing up.
Thunder and lightning hammered Lotus Pier the day Jiang Cheng, courtesy Wanyin, Sect Leader of Yunmeng Jiang and fierce Sandu Shengshou breathed his last.
He knew this because he stood at the windows of his room, watching the heavens unleash a torrent while behind him, a disciple was just discovering his body.
Jiang Cheng was annoyed at the wasting time. The rivers were going to flood into the lakes, which were going to overflow their banks at this rate. Didn’t the silly disciple have any sense of priorities? The people of Yunmeng came first, always. But there was nothing he could do about it so he walked away, going straight through the wall and out into the storm. It was much colder in death than life had been but the rain passed through him as if he were not there so that was a plus.
He wandered the Sect, ignoring the shouts and ringing of bells that signaled an emergency. Each clang reverberated through his spirit like a stone tossed into still waters but he paid no heed. What could he do now but offer prayers that his Sect was well-prepared and would thrive in his absence?
His favorite pavilion on the water was empty, the one that had been his sister's choice for calligraphy and music practice. Someone careless had forgotten to secure the gauzy hangings that shaded the pavilion in summer’s heat. They flapped and beat madly, tearing themselves to shreds in the vicious wind.
He paid it no mind for his sister stood there, as elegant and beautiful as the day she had been married. She stood at the edge of the pavilion as if it were a calm spring day and the sun was shining. Her back was to him, her long hair waving in the wind as if it were a gentle breeze.
Was his sister a ghost?
Jiang Cheng made his way to her side, expecting the vision to fade. But she turned to him and smiled, as full of life as he. Which meant she was still dead, he reminded himself, but she was no tattered remnant. She was herself, here in spirit as fully strong as his.
“A-Cheng,” she said, her voice a gentle chime beneath the howling storm. “Lotus Pier is so beautiful. You’ve done so well.”
He stared at her, then scoffed. All right then. Clearly something was wrong if she couldn't see the chaos unfolding around them. But Wei Wuxian had died and Jiang Cheng might as well be called his killer for all he still expected his asshole shixiong to come waltzing back to life with nothing more than a shrug and a ‘been there done that’ attitude. Jiang Cheng would be no different.
This altered shell of his lost sister would not break him.
As if she could hear all his thoughts aloud, she raised her hand to hide her mouth behind a trialing sleeve and giggled. “Oh A-Cheng, I know where you are, it is storming. But where I am, I can see the years unspooling like a bolt of silk becoming more and more elaborate and lustrous as it goes. You have done so well. With Lotus Pier and my sweet A-Ling.”
“Did you say all these sorts of things to Wei Wuxian when you met him?” Jiang Cheng demanded, harshness winning out over fear and sorrow.
Jiang Yanli dropped her hand, her expression solemn as she studied his unsmiling face. "You still don’t believe you’re a good man. The best that Lotus Pier could have hoped for,” she murmured sadly. Then she said. “I haven't seen A-Xian.”
Jiang Cheng’s his heart ached, a lightning bolt of ferocious, tender pain and he cast aside thoughts of Wei Wuxian. He could not bear it. “Are you well, A-Jie? Do you live well in the afterlife? Is that blasted Peacock taking proper care of you?”
She laughed again, head tipping back to the sky. Jiang Yanli gave him a merry smile with twinkling eyes. “He treats me very well,” she allowed. “Much to my delight and A-Die’s chagrin. A-Niang isn't letting him live it down, you know, how things ended.”
“Please, A-Jie,” he said, the pain growing fiercer. “I can’t.”
“I know it hurts, didi,” she said, stepping forward to cup his face in one lotus-scented palm. “But A-Ling will bring you back as you were. And you must go to Qinghe. You must stop the evil there.”
The pain was stronger, all consuming, he couldn't breath around the force of it. Jiang Yanli put her hands on his shoulders, holding him up. “Tell my son about me, A-Cheng. About his father’s awkwardness and heroism. How, for me, he tried to bring A-Xian home and was betrayed by the Jin. Tell him about my soup and my singing. Sing for him yourself. Let him see you grieve and celebrate, didi. Let him see you live.
When you go to Qinghe, let the one you find there see you live as well. And if, through the unrolling of the silk, you find your paths weaving together. Didi, give him your bell. My chest of music is in the disciples’ storage. It survived. A-Xuan’s poetry is on the top shelf of the smallest library in Jinlintai, beneath the eastern window. That is the legacy I want for my son, A-Cheng. Not fear or hate or sorrow. My baby was loved with all the strength A-Xuan and I possessed. As much as you love him, so did we. And I love you, my precious didi.”
“A-Jie,” Jiang Chen clutched his chest as the pain increased. “How can I do that? I’m dead!”
Jiang Yanli smiled and kissed his forehead gently. “Attempt the impossible, A-Cheng.”
And then his sister shoved him into the lake just as lightning struck the water. When he surfaced, gasping and coughing up water, he was in his bed. In his body.
Standing there with tears streaking his face and Zidian sparking in his hand was A-Ling.
This story also uses the prompt "Thunder and Lightning" from my MDZS Bingo card, "Promise" from myallbingo Platonic Love Fest card, and #48 from the Angst section of this list.
Theme Prompt: #107 - Afterlife
Title: Lotus and Lightning
Fandom: MDZS
Rating/Warnings: M / Jiang Cheng dies during a storm. His nephew arrives in time to revive him with Zidian, a ring that becomes a whip made of lightning. Bzzt!
Bonus: Yes!
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: Jiang Cheng is dead, and then he isn't. Putting "A" in front of something denotes affection, like calling "Mike", "Mikey" instead. "A-Jie" means sister, but cutesy. "Didi" means little brother. "A-Niang" is mother and "A-Die" is father. "A-Xuan" is Jiang Yanli's husband, Jin Zixuan who gets himself killed about halfway through the novel and fucks the whole thing up. "A-Ling" is Jin Ling, the son of Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan. He lives, both his parents die. Jiang Cheng does a lot of his bringing up.
Thunder and lightning hammered Lotus Pier the day Jiang Cheng, courtesy Wanyin, Sect Leader of Yunmeng Jiang and fierce Sandu Shengshou breathed his last.
He knew this because he stood at the windows of his room, watching the heavens unleash a torrent while behind him, a disciple was just discovering his body.
Jiang Cheng was annoyed at the wasting time. The rivers were going to flood into the lakes, which were going to overflow their banks at this rate. Didn’t the silly disciple have any sense of priorities? The people of Yunmeng came first, always. But there was nothing he could do about it so he walked away, going straight through the wall and out into the storm. It was much colder in death than life had been but the rain passed through him as if he were not there so that was a plus.
He wandered the Sect, ignoring the shouts and ringing of bells that signaled an emergency. Each clang reverberated through his spirit like a stone tossed into still waters but he paid no heed. What could he do now but offer prayers that his Sect was well-prepared and would thrive in his absence?
His favorite pavilion on the water was empty, the one that had been his sister's choice for calligraphy and music practice. Someone careless had forgotten to secure the gauzy hangings that shaded the pavilion in summer’s heat. They flapped and beat madly, tearing themselves to shreds in the vicious wind.
He paid it no mind for his sister stood there, as elegant and beautiful as the day she had been married. She stood at the edge of the pavilion as if it were a calm spring day and the sun was shining. Her back was to him, her long hair waving in the wind as if it were a gentle breeze.
Was his sister a ghost?
Jiang Cheng made his way to her side, expecting the vision to fade. But she turned to him and smiled, as full of life as he. Which meant she was still dead, he reminded himself, but she was no tattered remnant. She was herself, here in spirit as fully strong as his.
“A-Cheng,” she said, her voice a gentle chime beneath the howling storm. “Lotus Pier is so beautiful. You’ve done so well.”
He stared at her, then scoffed. All right then. Clearly something was wrong if she couldn't see the chaos unfolding around them. But Wei Wuxian had died and Jiang Cheng might as well be called his killer for all he still expected his asshole shixiong to come waltzing back to life with nothing more than a shrug and a ‘been there done that’ attitude. Jiang Cheng would be no different.
This altered shell of his lost sister would not break him.
As if she could hear all his thoughts aloud, she raised her hand to hide her mouth behind a trialing sleeve and giggled. “Oh A-Cheng, I know where you are, it is storming. But where I am, I can see the years unspooling like a bolt of silk becoming more and more elaborate and lustrous as it goes. You have done so well. With Lotus Pier and my sweet A-Ling.”
“Did you say all these sorts of things to Wei Wuxian when you met him?” Jiang Cheng demanded, harshness winning out over fear and sorrow.
Jiang Yanli dropped her hand, her expression solemn as she studied his unsmiling face. "You still don’t believe you’re a good man. The best that Lotus Pier could have hoped for,” she murmured sadly. Then she said. “I haven't seen A-Xian.”
Jiang Cheng’s his heart ached, a lightning bolt of ferocious, tender pain and he cast aside thoughts of Wei Wuxian. He could not bear it. “Are you well, A-Jie? Do you live well in the afterlife? Is that blasted Peacock taking proper care of you?”
She laughed again, head tipping back to the sky. Jiang Yanli gave him a merry smile with twinkling eyes. “He treats me very well,” she allowed. “Much to my delight and A-Die’s chagrin. A-Niang isn't letting him live it down, you know, how things ended.”
“Please, A-Jie,” he said, the pain growing fiercer. “I can’t.”
“I know it hurts, didi,” she said, stepping forward to cup his face in one lotus-scented palm. “But A-Ling will bring you back as you were. And you must go to Qinghe. You must stop the evil there.”
The pain was stronger, all consuming, he couldn't breath around the force of it. Jiang Yanli put her hands on his shoulders, holding him up. “Tell my son about me, A-Cheng. About his father’s awkwardness and heroism. How, for me, he tried to bring A-Xian home and was betrayed by the Jin. Tell him about my soup and my singing. Sing for him yourself. Let him see you grieve and celebrate, didi. Let him see you live.
When you go to Qinghe, let the one you find there see you live as well. And if, through the unrolling of the silk, you find your paths weaving together. Didi, give him your bell. My chest of music is in the disciples’ storage. It survived. A-Xuan’s poetry is on the top shelf of the smallest library in Jinlintai, beneath the eastern window. That is the legacy I want for my son, A-Cheng. Not fear or hate or sorrow. My baby was loved with all the strength A-Xuan and I possessed. As much as you love him, so did we. And I love you, my precious didi.”
“A-Jie,” Jiang Chen clutched his chest as the pain increased. “How can I do that? I’m dead!”
Jiang Yanli smiled and kissed his forehead gently. “Attempt the impossible, A-Cheng.”
And then his sister shoved him into the lake just as lightning struck the water. When he surfaced, gasping and coughing up water, he was in his bed. In his body.
Standing there with tears streaking his face and Zidian sparking in his hand was A-Ling.
This story also uses the prompt "Thunder and Lightning" from my MDZS Bingo card, "Promise" from my
allbingo Platonic Love Fest card, and #48 from the Angst section of this list.