curiosity (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
curiosity) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly2022-04-06 05:33 pm
curiosity) wrote in fandomweekly2022-04-06 05:33 pm
Entry tags:
[#88] Politics and Persuasion, Part 2 (MDZS)
.
Theme Prompt: #88 - Regrets
Title: Politics and Persuasion, Part 2
Fandom: MDZS
Rating/Warnings: T but there's hecka angst.
Bonus: Nope.
Word Count: 925
Summary: The visitors depart with a bad taste in their mouth. But first things first.
Notes: This is a canon AU where Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli survive but live at Lotus Pier. The second siege never happens.
Jiang Wanyin watched them all, eyes narrowed into slits as his spiritual weapon continued to crackle and spark, giving voice to his ire.
“Now it matters that he is ill,” he said in a surprisingly gentle voice. “When he was working himself into a froth on our behalf during the war, that did not matter. When even the famed Hanguang Jun playing ‘Cleansing’ for him every night did not ease the torment his new path caused him, that did not matter. When the Jins’ cruelty and torture was discovered, that did not matter as much as condemning Wei Wuxian. But now?
Now that he might die? Now it matters? How brave. How noble. How enlightened and benevolent you all are. I can barely restrain myself from prostrating at your feet and crying pearl tears in the face of such magnanimity. I can only pray to aspire to be as good-hearted as the assembled cultivators before me.”
Nie Mingjue stirred in his seat, scowling and restless. “Laying it on thick there, are’t you, Jiang Wanyin? We’re trying to help.”
“Why now?” Jiang Wanyin rose to his feet. “Why now, after Lotus Pier is rebuilt and the bloodstains finally washed away? Why now when Wei Wuxian’s turnip farmers have had time to build a whole fucking village in that charnel pit and raise a child there for five years?”
“Child?” Jin Guangyao looked up from his tea, eyes sharp and calculating.
Jiang Wanyin feigned astonishment. “Did the cunning Lianfeng Zun not know? There were children in that torture and rape camp of yours. Wei Wuxian adopted the only one to survive. I would have assumed Hanguang Jun would have told his brother all about the boy. He must be almost eight by now.”
Three sets of eyes turned to Lan Wangji, who found himself utterly disgusted to be on Jiang Wanyin’s side for the moment. He nodded sharply. “I told xiongzhang.”
Lan Xichen’s smile fell off his face and his expression grew sad. “I don’t remember that. A child? Are you sure?”
“There are less than fifty people in that hellhole,” Jiang Wanyin retorted, snapping his fingers.
A disciple appeared with three scrolls that he placed in his Sect Leader’s hands. Bowing, he disappeared again. Jiang Wanyin handed each Sect Leader a scroll.
“This is a list of the residents of Wei Wuxian’s little village. Their names, ages, what they suffered, and what they can still do. It is current as of six months ago. Including the eight-year-old, A-Yuan.”
“You were planning on bringing him out of the Burial Mounds already,” Jin Guangyao observed. “Even though he defected.”
“I was not,” Jiang Wanyin corrected with a sneer. “I was keeping an eye on that asshole. And making a record to rub in your faces when tragedy inevitably occurred. No. I knew if I interfered, the mighty Venerated Triad would rise up and crush my people just like Jin Guangshan tried to do all those years ago. The most I could do was send supplies and aid. Not that it mattered. Wei Wuxian is still a fool.
As of six months ago, I can no longer pass the wards. For my own good, he said. So do whatever you want with them. It’s clear he wants nothing to do with me. That even now, I am not good enough to come to his aid, that Lotus Pier isn’t good enough to shelter him and his merry band of geriatric war criminals. Take him, take them all, where ever you want. What do I care?”
He turned away. “I trust you will see yourselves out.”
“Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue stood, a hand reaching for the young Sect Leader.
But Jiang Wanyin strode from the Sword Hall and vanished. His third, a giant of a man with a scowl on par with a demon’s, appeared to escort them to the gates.
“We have managed things very badly,” Lan Xichen murmured. “I had no idea.”
The disgruntled Jiang disciple uttered the softest scoff, bowing as he motioned to the exit.
“Tell him we’re sorry,” Nie Mingjue said to the man. “Tell him we’ll make it right.”
The disciple shrugged. “Your words in one hand, shit in the other. Which will fill up faster, do you suppose?” He bowed. “I will relay the message.”
Four cultivators watched as he walked away without a backwards glance or appropriate farewell.
“That could have gone better,” Nie Mingjue mused, echoing Lan Xichen’s words. “But this will have to wait. If we want Wei Wuxian alive, he needs to come first.”
“Then Gusu will be his home,” Lan Xichen said firmly, not needing to see Lan Wangji to know his brother agreed. “Our healers are the most proficient in dealing with demonic cultivation.”
“Technically,” Nie Mingjue corrected, mounting Baxia. “Mine are. But you can have him. I’ve got one crazy genius underfoot. I don’t need another. And A-Yao has that Xue Yang kid. It’s Gusu’s turn.”
Jin Guangyao stepped on to Hensheng and sent himself aloft. “We are dividing up power and resources among the three of us,” he observed to his brothers. “Jiang Wanyin had the right of it. Is he right to be bitter?”
“We’ll make it right,” Lan Xichen said firmly, aiming Shuoyue towards Yiling. “One step at a time.”
Lan Wangji didn’t think there was anyway to make the situation with Jiang Wanyin right. But he also didn’t care. Healing Wei Wuxian was the only goal that mattered right now. The politics would have to wait, the politics weren't important. Saving lives was.
Theme Prompt: #88 - Regrets
Title: Politics and Persuasion, Part 2
Fandom: MDZS
Rating/Warnings: T but there's hecka angst.
Bonus: Nope.
Word Count: 925
Summary: The visitors depart with a bad taste in their mouth. But first things first.
Notes: This is a canon AU where Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli survive but live at Lotus Pier. The second siege never happens.
Jiang Wanyin watched them all, eyes narrowed into slits as his spiritual weapon continued to crackle and spark, giving voice to his ire.
“Now it matters that he is ill,” he said in a surprisingly gentle voice. “When he was working himself into a froth on our behalf during the war, that did not matter. When even the famed Hanguang Jun playing ‘Cleansing’ for him every night did not ease the torment his new path caused him, that did not matter. When the Jins’ cruelty and torture was discovered, that did not matter as much as condemning Wei Wuxian. But now?
Now that he might die? Now it matters? How brave. How noble. How enlightened and benevolent you all are. I can barely restrain myself from prostrating at your feet and crying pearl tears in the face of such magnanimity. I can only pray to aspire to be as good-hearted as the assembled cultivators before me.”
Nie Mingjue stirred in his seat, scowling and restless. “Laying it on thick there, are’t you, Jiang Wanyin? We’re trying to help.”
“Why now?” Jiang Wanyin rose to his feet. “Why now, after Lotus Pier is rebuilt and the bloodstains finally washed away? Why now when Wei Wuxian’s turnip farmers have had time to build a whole fucking village in that charnel pit and raise a child there for five years?”
“Child?” Jin Guangyao looked up from his tea, eyes sharp and calculating.
Jiang Wanyin feigned astonishment. “Did the cunning Lianfeng Zun not know? There were children in that torture and rape camp of yours. Wei Wuxian adopted the only one to survive. I would have assumed Hanguang Jun would have told his brother all about the boy. He must be almost eight by now.”
Three sets of eyes turned to Lan Wangji, who found himself utterly disgusted to be on Jiang Wanyin’s side for the moment. He nodded sharply. “I told xiongzhang.”
Lan Xichen’s smile fell off his face and his expression grew sad. “I don’t remember that. A child? Are you sure?”
“There are less than fifty people in that hellhole,” Jiang Wanyin retorted, snapping his fingers.
A disciple appeared with three scrolls that he placed in his Sect Leader’s hands. Bowing, he disappeared again. Jiang Wanyin handed each Sect Leader a scroll.
“This is a list of the residents of Wei Wuxian’s little village. Their names, ages, what they suffered, and what they can still do. It is current as of six months ago. Including the eight-year-old, A-Yuan.”
“You were planning on bringing him out of the Burial Mounds already,” Jin Guangyao observed. “Even though he defected.”
“I was not,” Jiang Wanyin corrected with a sneer. “I was keeping an eye on that asshole. And making a record to rub in your faces when tragedy inevitably occurred. No. I knew if I interfered, the mighty Venerated Triad would rise up and crush my people just like Jin Guangshan tried to do all those years ago. The most I could do was send supplies and aid. Not that it mattered. Wei Wuxian is still a fool.
As of six months ago, I can no longer pass the wards. For my own good, he said. So do whatever you want with them. It’s clear he wants nothing to do with me. That even now, I am not good enough to come to his aid, that Lotus Pier isn’t good enough to shelter him and his merry band of geriatric war criminals. Take him, take them all, where ever you want. What do I care?”
He turned away. “I trust you will see yourselves out.”
“Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue stood, a hand reaching for the young Sect Leader.
But Jiang Wanyin strode from the Sword Hall and vanished. His third, a giant of a man with a scowl on par with a demon’s, appeared to escort them to the gates.
“We have managed things very badly,” Lan Xichen murmured. “I had no idea.”
The disgruntled Jiang disciple uttered the softest scoff, bowing as he motioned to the exit.
“Tell him we’re sorry,” Nie Mingjue said to the man. “Tell him we’ll make it right.”
The disciple shrugged. “Your words in one hand, shit in the other. Which will fill up faster, do you suppose?” He bowed. “I will relay the message.”
Four cultivators watched as he walked away without a backwards glance or appropriate farewell.
“That could have gone better,” Nie Mingjue mused, echoing Lan Xichen’s words. “But this will have to wait. If we want Wei Wuxian alive, he needs to come first.”
“Then Gusu will be his home,” Lan Xichen said firmly, not needing to see Lan Wangji to know his brother agreed. “Our healers are the most proficient in dealing with demonic cultivation.”
“Technically,” Nie Mingjue corrected, mounting Baxia. “Mine are. But you can have him. I’ve got one crazy genius underfoot. I don’t need another. And A-Yao has that Xue Yang kid. It’s Gusu’s turn.”
Jin Guangyao stepped on to Hensheng and sent himself aloft. “We are dividing up power and resources among the three of us,” he observed to his brothers. “Jiang Wanyin had the right of it. Is he right to be bitter?”
“We’ll make it right,” Lan Xichen said firmly, aiming Shuoyue towards Yiling. “One step at a time.”
Lan Wangji didn’t think there was anyway to make the situation with Jiang Wanyin right. But he also didn’t care. Healing Wei Wuxian was the only goal that mattered right now. The politics would have to wait, the politics weren't important. Saving lives was.