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"Uncle!"

Jin Ling rushed in, his face alarmed, Fairy at his heels. His hair was coming undone and he looked like he'd worked up a good sweat. All that was as it should be, as he was meant to be training with the disciples. He was not meant to be bursting in while Jiang Cheng was listening to a merchant quoting him exorbitant prices for timber.

"Uncle, come quick, you have to do something!"

"What's going on? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Lord Jiang, I can return tomorrow," the merchant said, "or the day after. Many builders are seeking wood as fine and straight as mine, however –"

"A moment, man, a moment. Jin Ling, what is it?"

"A monk is trying to steal Jiang Liu away!"

Jiang Cheng ran. The merchant's words behind him were meaningless. Jin Ling kept up easily, a mark of how he'd grown in the last months. Fairy ran by his side, clearly delighted to participate in her master's games.

"He just pushed me aside and called me a little boy! Can I set Fairy on him, Uncle?"

As if the creature would do anything more than demand to be petted and told what a good dog it was. He'd never seen a lazier lump of fur. Jin Guangyao was no judge of animals.

"Maybe."

Jiang Liu was standing out beyond the practice grounds, away from everyone who might talk sense, and close by him was Rikudo, the surly monk who had first come to Lotus Pier, speaking earnestly.

" – you know you cannot stay here," he was saying as they came up. "Ah, here are Lord Jiang and the child-lord Jin to drag you down with worldly attachments."

"What do you want?" Jiang Cheng snapped.

"He's come to see me," Jiang Liu said. "It's all right."

"You speak to me, not to a young person of my family," Jiang Cheng said.

"Your family," Rikudo repeated, and turned back to Jiang Liu. "Remember your father who raised you."

"Get him, Fairy!"

Rikudo made an abrupt gesture as the dog shot forwards. Jiang Cheng made a quick gesture of his own, negating the man's spell. How dare he try to ensorcel a sweet, innocent dog! Fairy looked askance at both of them and retreated to guard Jin Ling.

Jiang Liu looked between Rikudo and Jiang Cheng in seeming irritation at their actions.

"I was placed here by the lord abbot to be trained to manhood," he said. "And I swore to Sect Leader Jiang not to pursue steps to ordination until the full period of mourning for Koumyou was done."

Rikudo made a contemptuous noise. "You were ordained by the saint," he said. "You've been a full monastic since that point – for over two years, Genjo – yet here you stand dressed in a rich layman's clothing and with your head unshaven. For shame."

Jiang Liu took a sharp breath in, his face paling. He held himself very still. Jiang Cheng thought it was to stop himself from flinching; he put a hand on his shoulder, feeling how tense the boy was.

"He was a young boy," he said. "Just a child."

"He was a man from the moment the saint called him by his monastic name! Tell me, are you the novice Kouryuu, or this rich man's poor relation Jiang Liu – or are you who you know you are, Genjo?"

Jiang Liu met Rikudo's eyes. "My name is Jiang Genjo."

Jiang Cheng wasn't sure if he'd really made a choice; he was looking at Rikudo with deep hunger, as if he couldn't wait to run back up the Golden Mountain and put on a monk's robes once more.

"Come on, Jiang-xiong," Jin Ling said, sounding anxious. "Let's leave my uncle to speak to him. We can go and spar, or swim, or do whatever you want."

"Before you run off to play with dolls and hoops," Rikudo said, "see this." He reached into the fold of material across his shoulder and drew out something small, wrapped in a shining golden cloth. "Look on these and tell me your name."

He unwrapped a ball of white jade, carved in a delicate lattice and topped with silver so bright that it shone unbearably in the sunshine. Within the lattice-carved ball were what seemed to be opals or pearls, gleaming as they tumbled over each other. Jiang Liu made a soft, broken sound then sank to his knees and pressed his forehead to the ground. Rikudo looked down on him in what might have been approval or simple satisfaction at seeing the boy bow so low before him.

"What is this?" Jiang Cheng said, appalled. He had never, never seen Jiang Liu pay such respect to anyone. He could feel the spiritual power pulsing from the jade ball, though he was not inclined to prostate himself.

"Relics of the saint," Rikudo said. "His sarira."

"Please," Jiang Liu said from his low position. "Please –"

Jiang Cheng's horror deepened. Jiang Liu never asked for anything.

"Uncle," Jin Ling whispered. "Make this man go away!"

"Remember who you are," Rikudo said, "receive the sarira -"

Jiang Liu sat up and reverentially took the carved jade ball in both hands. Silent tears ran down his face. "Master," he whispered. "Oh, Master."

"Jiang-xiong," Jin Ling said, and knelt in the dust beside him. "Remember, we're going to find whoever killed him! We're going to do it together! Why don't you come with me now, and we can practice swordsmanship?"

"Should this relic have been taken from the monastery?" Jiang Cheng said, furious at the way Rikudo smirked down at Jin Ling. "Did the abbot allow you to remove it or have you stolen it?" The reliquary showed what the monks thought of the saint's relics – surely a solitary monk would never have been allowed remove such a precious item? He would not have his disciple and clan member stolen away by such means. Jiangs belonged at Lotus Pier, nowhere else.

"Genjo," Rikudo said, ignoring him. "Come back with me. You are clearly not a child any longer. No one would stand between you and the position that is rightly yours."

"I have to find the Seiten sutra," Jiang Liu said. "And I need to avenge Master Koumyou's death –" He pressed the jade ball to his lips. "I can't do that as a monk. Would it be fitting to put on his robes and drench them in blood?" He stared at the ball and its softly gleaming contents. "I know you'd never have wanted me to think of killing," he murmured. "I can do nothing else until I've avenged you. Forgive me."

Rikudo held out his hand and Jiang Liu reluctantly gave the ball back.

"This is not your true path, Genjo," Rikudo said. "You can seek for the Seiten as a monastic." He looked at Jiang Cheng coolly. "I will return soon to discuss matters of religion with my high priest, Genjo Sanzo. He'll come to his senses eventually."

Without another word he thrust the ball back into its golden wrapping and stuffed it inside his clothing, and was already walking away before Jiang Cheng could order him out of Lotus Pier.

Jin Ling knelt helplessly beside Jiang Liu, looking unsure of what to do or say as Jiang Liu raised his tear-streaked face to watch Rikudo leave, looking as if his heart had broken all over again.

"Both of you, up," Jiang Cheng said. He wanted to hit someone, and knew he couldn't let it show in his voice. "We may as well have lunch, then you'll train." Keep them busy, don't let young impressionable minds start dwelling on things. He chivvied them both back to the main house and physically pushed them down before signalling to the servants to bring food. While he ate he watched Jiang Liu pushing food around as if he had fallen right back into fasting. Later as the boys sparred he watched him do no more than parry Jin Ling's blows. It was ridiculous.

"Go and get into something old," Jiang Cheng said to Jin Ling, "and for goodness' sake do something with your hair. If you can't concentrate on sparring you can go swimming."

"I am concentrating!" Jin Ling said. Jiang Cheng gave him a quelling look and he got the message. "Yes, Uncle."

"Come on," Jiang Cheng said to Jiang Liu. "Let's keep him company." As they trudged silently back towards the main house he said, "Are you going to mope all day?"

"I'm not moping."

"I know what moping looks like: Jin Ling lives here half the year. And I was your age once."

"I'm not my age."

"Oh, I know," Jiang Cheng said casually. "You're burdened with the cares of the ages that a mere cultivator and gentleman would never understand. A lowly sect leader is far too stupid to ever understand what it is to deal with a bunch of armed men whose sect colours just happen to be saffron."

"I can't believe you're comparing the sangha to a cultivation sect."

"Why don't you put aside the burden of being a high priest – as you said you would – for a while? Your obnoxious lackey will still be up there if you ever return."

"He's not my lackey."

"He probably won't have washed at all in the meantime."

"We washed!"

"I remember what you were like, you ruffian. Was it so bad, seeing those relics?"

There it was, the question he'd wanted to ask. Jiang Liu's steps slowed, though he didn't stop.

"I miss him," he said after a while. "I really miss him."

If he and Older Sister and Wei Wuxian, that evil-minded bastard, had gone back to Lotus Pier that night they would have died with their father, and there would be no more Yunmeng Jiang clan. Perhaps they could all have been reborn together, and his mother and father would have been happy, and he would never again have lost his sister and his brother. He missed everyone.

"That's natural," he said, "I'd expect nothing less. This evening I want you to put that grief aside for a little, and just be a boy who's going for a swim with a friend. It'll help."

"All right," Jiang Liu sighed, as if he were doing him a very great favour.

Jiang Cheng made a vague sound of approval and kept the victory off his face. Both Jin Ling and Jiang Liu always had a good appetite after swimming. There'd be no more of that fasting nonsense. Rikudo needn't think he could sway a Jiang clan member as easily as all that.

Jin Ling was displaying table manners like he was dining with the emperor, or perhaps the emperor's very distant cousin. He had also made a point of asking for lotus root and pork soup to be served. Jiang Cheng immediately suspected that he was about to be asked for a favour.

"Would the young Lord Jin care for a little more?" he asked dryly.

Jin Ling visibly wavered between greed and trying to seem like a respectable adult who had successfully softened his ageing uncle up with a sentimental dinner. The growing boy won out.

"Yes, please."

His ageing uncle actually did feel quite softened, watching Ah-Ling make his way through another bowl. It was like lake water compared to the way Older Sister had made it, of course, but she would have been so happy to see the boy healthy and as full of youthful silliness and arrogance as - Jiang Cheng buried his thoughts in his own dinner again.

"Uncle?"

"Yes?"

"Um. I, that is –"

"Jin Ling, speak plainly. We don't prevaricate here."

"Ah-Liu is still sad, shouldn't we do something?" Jin Ling said in a rush.

"Ah-Liu is it? I thought your little uncle reprimanded you for that. He's not so familiar with you – it must seem to him as if you speak to him as an inferior or a servant. He may wish to serve you when you're a clan leader, but you should treat your men with respect."

"I do! I will! And I wouldn't mind if he – I mean – Uncle," Jin Ling said, clearly deciding to start again, "Jiang Liu is distressed. That monk the other day made him think of his old foster-father, and he hasn’t been the same since. Maybe he would think I'm talking down to him, but he knows he isn't valued enough to eat regularly at our family table."

"What?" Jiang Cheng said. "Don't be silly. The disciples eat together. I eat with them, often enough. He's not neglected and starving! Have the two of you decided he's been abandoned somehow?"

"No!" Jin Ling looked horrified. "No, and please don't say I said anything! He wouldn't say it to you! It's just –" He looked fixedly at a point just beyond Jiang Cheng's ear, and slowly went a deepening shade of pink. "I was very discourteous when I first met Jiang Liu, and asked you improper questions, because I didn't like what Uncle Jin had said." He met Jiang Cheng's eyes and went utterly scarlet. "That was a long time ago," he said. "I was very young at the time and didn't understand, ah, things. I know I misunderstand Uncle Jin's concerns and I wanted to –" His voice ran out.

"You two forgave each other your initial rudenesses a long time ago," Jiang Cheng said. "You're united in your efforts to drive me into madness and despair, like a pair of fairy tale heroes defeating some ogre. Thanks for that, by the way. I'm not annoyed with either of you. It's all right, Ah-Ling."

"Yes!" Jin Ling said, like he was grabbing a rope thrown to him. "I'm not trying to be familiar because I think he's an inferior, but because I think he isn't! If, if you wanted him to eat at your table, Uncle, I wouldn't pout and act like I might have at first. I'm not such a baby. Or if you wanted him to live in the main house, or –"

Ah. Jiang Cheng sat back, looking at Jin Ling's embarrassed, hopeful face. It wasn't quite true, what Jin Guangyao had said about him being the only Jin boy in his generation, but the few others were older and distant cousins, not in line to inherit anything of note. The possibility of his family suddenly expanding and giving him someone else in Lotus Pier was clearly more appealing now than it had been in the past.

"Jin Ling," he said. "This family always fulfils its responsibilities. I avenged my parents and rebuilt the sect –"

"Yes, Uncle! And you avenged my parents! I know how honourable you are!"

Jiang Cheng looked at his table, blank rage at the thought of what was sitting in Gusu welling up. He was recalled to himself by Jin Ling's voice.

" - so I know you'll do what's right now!"

"If I had been indiscreet in my youth," Jiang Cheng said, "I would have ensured that the persons involved were taken care of, and I would not have placed anyone in a situation where abandoning a child became a possibility." He sighed at Jin Ling's expression. "I was quite truthful with you; he's not mine. If he were, I would acknowledge him."

Jin Ling just stared at him, then somehow went an even deeper red.

"I thought you were just trying to spare my feelings," he said. "I wanted to tell you I'm not such a stupid kid, to get jealous about you –"

Jiang Cheng felt a warmth that Jin Ling might still be jealous about his affections, and squashed the feeling immediately. The boy was far too old to give in to such babyish thoughts.

"We'll invite Jiang Liu to eat with us tomorrow evening," he said. "It's good of you to be so kind to a friend. And I have been thinking of moving him to more appropriate quarters; whatever else, he was an important monk's foster-son, and can now act properly as a gentleman as well."

"Thank you, Uncle," Jin Ling said. He fiddled with his bowl. "Things were so bad when I was a baby. What if I'd been thrown into the river?"

Jiang Cheng chewed on a piece of lotus root and regarded him with amusement. "I'm a very strong swimmer," he said. "Do you think I wouldn't have gone from one side to the other to bring you to dry land?"

"Of course you would have!" Jin Ling said immediately.

And then he would have kept Jin Ling in Lotus Pier year-round, and never been without him. Jiang Cheng thought of his nephew as a round-faced baby and as the toddler waving a toy sword so seriously; all the years he had not been allowed to have him to himself. He covered the embarrassment of being so sentimental by refilling Jin Ling's bowl again.

"Eat," he said brusquely. "Your mother wouldn't thank me for starving you."

The next morning he threw open the doors of the rooms he had used as a child and young teenager, striding in with a bevy of servants at his heels and feeling for a moment that Older Sister and Wei Wuxian would run in at any moment, wanting to play. It was clean, which he had expected, but slightly forlorn, which he had not. Everything looked much smaller than he remembered. Foolishness. He was no longer a boy.

"Take the personal items," he said, "and –" He paused. " - and put them in Jiang Yanli's rooms." Anything of note from his youth had been stolen by the Wens, but they'd left some of his childhood belongings. Older Sister would be happy to take care of them for him. "Fresh covers on the bed, air everything out. Find an image of the Buddha and put it in that alcove. Make sure the chests for clothes are clean and sweet-smelling. I want everything suitable for a young gentleman."

"Yes, my lord," the servants murmured.

He left them and went to watch the disciples training, noting how Jin Ling managed to beat Jiang Liu in several of their bouts. It was good to see him improving, but not because Jiang Liu's mind was on other matters. When the trainer declared that a break should be taken, Jiang Cheng heartlessly sent Jin Ling to drill the youngest junior disciples in archery and beckoned Jiang Liu to him.

"You're slacking."

"No, I'm not."

Jiang Cheng drew his sword. "Let's see, then."

Jiang Liu rolled his eyes and drew his own. He gave a good account of himself, and kept his mind on the matter in hand, if only to avoid getting parts of himself chopped off. Jiang Cheng didn't stop until the boy was looking ready to drop, and then allowed him to catch his breath.

"Let's go and watch the youngsters," Jiang Cheng said. "You can help Jin Ling. I've had your belongings moved to one of the family rooms," he added. "You'll take all your meals with me from now on."

"You what?" Jiang Liu said in irritation. "Don't I get some say in this?"

"No."

"I'm fine with the other disciples."

"I'll bring you up as I see fit. Now that you're used to everything, you need to learn to live as a gentleman."

"Why now?" Jiang Liu said, stopping dead. "Why not six months after I arrived? A year?" He narrowed his eyes. "What's Jin Ling been saying to you?"

"Don't be rude."

"Oh, for fuck's sake. I don't need to be coddled!"

"You do need to have your mouth washed out!" Jiang Cheng snapped. The ungrateful brat.

"Jin Ling worries too much," Jiang Liu muttered. "I told him you're not my father –"

"You two discussed this?"

"Yeah," Jiang Liu said, like he didn't see a problem. "Don't worry, I'm not trying to sneak into the family tree."

Jiang Cheng marched him to the edge of the training field, out of earshot of everyone. This was what came of expecting boys to have sense and discretion.

"You are a clan member. You are rightfully a Jiang. You may not be my close relation, but you are in my care. You will live in the family rooms, as you should have before now; the abbot would have preferred it, I'm sure. This will cause rumours, I am quite sure, both of the kind we have had thrown at us before and that you are my son. You're still moving into the rooms, understand?"

"Fine," Jiang Liu said after a pause. "Fuck the rumour-mongers, right?"

Jiang Cheng was struck with the unpleasant thought that they were of a similar disposition, and that the rumours would only grow in strength.

"If the rumour was true, I would own up to it," he said gruffly.

"Huh. Which rumour?" Jiang Liu said, a sly smile beginning to creep onto his face.

"Go and help Jin Ling! Before I throw you back in the river where you belong! Brat!"

Teenage boys. How evil had he been in a past life to deserve two of the creatures haunting his house?

Within a week he was used to seeing Jiang Liu emerge from his old rooms, and was pleased that the servants told him that they were kept clean and tidy. Surely it was a sign that the boy was happier in a layman's life. He was not so pleased to come across Jin Ling trying to physically drag Jiang Liu into the family ancestral hall.

"Come and pay your respects to my mother!"

"No, quit it. Your uncle will throw a fit."

"You're her clansman, aren't you?"

"Are you going to find some sixth cousin who sweeps the fucking streets and make them act like family too?"

Jin Ling took Jiang Liu's arm and leant right back, tugging with all his strength. It was as if he were trying to move a boulder.

"Fuck me, why are you so hard to move?"

"Jin Ling!" Jiang Cheng roared. "Since when do you speak like that? I expect little more of you –" He pointed in an ungentlemanly manner at Jiang Liu -

"See? Told you he'd throw a fit."

"I am not throwing a fit! What sort of vulgar language is that? You, get in there and apologise to your mother for swearing! You – gah! Get in there and apologise to his mother for teaching him to swear!"

He dragged his hands down his face, hearing the sounds of them scampering indoors to obey. He had definitely not been as ridiculous at their age. Although Wei Wuxian had had several memorable turns of phrase that would make respectable adults blanch and that had – Jiang Cheng had to admit – made him laugh uncontrollably. Now and then. When he was being very stupid. It was not a topic to think about. Jiang Liu was undisciplined in some ways, but he was not a traitor and murderer.

The boys reappeared at last, looking not one whit chastened. Older Sister had always been too soft. A seed of an idea took root in Jiang Cheng's mind. The monk Rikudo might think that he could invade the peace of Lotus Pier and Jiang Liu's equilibrium of mind; perhaps it was time to return the favour.

"The saint was cremated, you said?"

"Yes."

"He would have a memorial tablet, or a gravesite where his ashes were to be venerated, surely?"

Jiang Liu's gaze darted quickly to the ancestral hall and back to his face.

"Yes," he said fervently. "He should."

"It's not proper for you to go through the mourning period without worshipping at his memorial tablet," Jiang Cheng said, noting how the boy's entire being tensed like a bow ready to unleash. "This would be a visit, Jiang Liu. As a lay person. Then we'll return home to Lotus Pier."

"Yes," Jiang Liu said quickly. "Are we going now?"

"In a day or so." Jiang Cheng pretended he didn't see the disappointment. "I'll leave it up to you to arrange the proper offerings we'll take with us. Whatever you want, as long as you don't try to bankrupt me."

"Really?" Jiang Liu said, blinking in outright surprise.

Jiang Cheng supposed that he had never been put in charge of any such thing before. Cultivator or priest, learning such a skill would be useful to him.

"Yes. You're a sect leader's foster-child, I won't have anyone say we look cheap. We'll leave the day after you have arranged things to your satisfaction."

He strolled off leaving the boys whispering behind him, and went straight to his stewards to put a strict upper spending limit on the enterprise. He was sure it wouldn't be needed unless Jin Ling started helping Jiang Liu spend money – the boy had the spendthrift instincts of his whole clan – but better safe than sorry.

By the end of the week he supervised two disciples lifting packs of incense, high-quality tea and wine onto their backs and then, together with the boys, they mounted their swords and flew towards the Golden Mountain Monastery. After some hours of flight, Jiang Liu pointed ahead.

"There!" he called out.

Roofs were visible through trees and, as they flew lower, courtyards came into view. They landed in a well-tended courtyard with a large temple at one side, protected by ferocious statues of lions and guardian spirits. Some monks rushed in, but then stood there and bowed as it became apparent that this was a peaceful visit. Jiang Liu sheathed his sword and looked around silently, as if appraising how the place had been kept in his absence. One of the monks, a man in his twenties, came forwards.

"Kouryuu?" he said, then, "My Lord Genjo!"

Jiang Cheng was appalled as the man crashed to his knees in front of Jiang Liu, looking up in sheer adoration. The other monks were whispering and muttering.

"We're here to see the abbot," Jiang Cheng said loudly. "One of you, announce that the Jiang clan has come to pay respects at the tomb of Koumyou." He turned to Jiang Liu. "Get that man up, for heaven's sake."

"I'm trying," Jiang Liu hissed. "Stand up, Hongwu. Don't kneel to me."

"I'll stay here until you bless me, Lord Genjo."

"Uncle!" Jin Ling whispered loudly. "Make him go away!"

Jiang Liu heaved an annoyed sigh and, to Jiang Cheng's even greater horror, raised his hand in a prayerful gesture before chanting a brief and sonorous phrase. The monk Hongwu immediately rose and bowed.

"Tell the abbot we're here," Jiang Liu said, and the monk ran off at once.

"You can't bless people like that," Jiang Cheng said. "You have no authority to act in that way."

"It got him off his knees, didn't it?"

The other monks were still whispering, and the names Kouryuu and Genjo were clearly audible. Jiang Liu turned his back on them as if they didn't exist.

"I'll show you around."

"No," Jiang Cheng said. "Today we're visitors. We've asked to see the abbot and must wait and pay our respects. Jin Ling, you have dirt on your face."

Jin Ling scrubbed at his face and Jiang Liu looked impatient as the crowd of monks grew around them.

"Have you come back to take up your position?" one of them called.

"Quiet," Jiang Cheng said warningly and Jiang Liu, for a wonder, obeyed.

"Genjo! Are you here to lead us?"

"Hey, Kouryuu! The paths need sweeping!"

A broom clattered to land by Jiang Liu's feet and there was some laughter.

"Idiots," Jiang Liu said.

"Hear that? We're still idiots! I suppose he can say that seeing as he's found himself another high-ranking daddy to suck . . . up to."

"Who said that?" Jiang Cheng snapped. They all looked alike, with their shorn heads and robes. Even some of the monks who definitely hadn't said it laughed a little at his annoyance.

"Lord Jiang!"

He turned to find an older priest approaching. The man gestured abruptly and the crowd reluctantly dispersed.

"Please come with me, Lord Jiang. The abbot will see you."

They were led to a plain, low building and brought into a hall. The abbot sat at the head of the room, attended by two other monks.

"Please sit," he said, indicating places before him. "Drink tea with me."

There was a strained silence as a single cup of tea was consumed. The abbot flicked a glance at Jiang Liu, who stood and gave a miniscule bow. The boy gestured to Jin Ling and the disciples.

"C'mon, Jin Ling. You two as well."

They went back outside, and Jiang Cheng looked at the abbot's sudden scowl. He was to be scolded it seemed, and in front of the other monks. He scowled back.

"I asked you to raise the boy to manhood, Lord Jiang, and you agreed. Why have you brought him back when he is still a boy?"

"To worship at the saint's memorial," Jiang Cheng said.

"He's been here less than an hour and already half the monastery is chattering about his prophesied return and the other is complaining about favouritism and the interference of cultivation sects. You allowed him to publicly bless one of the young fools who is now going about saying that he has been brought close to enlightenment! At least the monks aren't as high-tempered as they were after Koumyou died – you'd have caused a riot then."

"A gentleman fulfils his filial duties," Jiang Cheng said. "He should be able to worship at his foster-father's memorial. And it's your man who made him yearn for this place after so long. Keep Rikudo away from Lotus Pier."

The abbot looked at him silently, so still that the man didn't seem to be breathing. Then he nodded once. "Kouryuu may pay his respects. And then you must leave, and keep him away. Do you think I want the boy used by older men for their own aims? Or by young hot-headed fools who might start some sort of combat against their brethren?"

"He's stubborn and has become even more so," Jiang Cheng said. "I doubt anyone would be able to use –"

"He's a boy!" the abbot snapped. "One who was always overly fond of Rikudo. Our talisman master means him no harm, but fails to see his youth. He'd have Kouryuu at the head of an army before the month was out."

"An army? Who on earth would you fight?"

"Enemies," the abbot said succinctly. "No doubt they would be defined for Kouryuu by men such as Rikudo. Keep them apart, Lord Jiang, until he has the sense to know where to use his power."

"His training is progressing well, but he's not a hugely powerful cultivator –"

"He's the saint's heir, Lord Jiang. Don't you understand? Half the monks out there consider him a saint. I know he took one of the saint's sutras – have you ever tried chanting it?"

Jiang Cheng shifted uneasily. He had demanded the scroll be shown to him after the first time Jiang Liu had used it. He'd read it through, and tried to cast the spell on it against a fierce corpse. The words had been just words in his mouth. The abbot nodded.

"Koumyou was the one of the only men I ever knew who could use those sutras – his heir can too. For his own sake, take him home." He stood and waited for Jiang Cheng to rise. "We do not allow visitors to enter the place where the memorials are. I'll have an offering table set up outside. As he was a novice here, and because of who he may one day be, Kouryuu may enter alone for a short time."

"Jiang Liu," Jiang Cheng said. "His name is Jiang Liu, or Jiang Genjo."

"Jiang Liu," the abbot said. "We'll avoid saying that other name too much." He turned to one of his attendants. "See that the table is put up." The man hurried out. "Lord Jiang, you'll be escorted to pay your respects. I would normally extend the monastery's hospitality and open the guest house, but under the circumstances –"

"We'll leave for Lotus Pier immediately," Jiang Cheng said.

He went out with the other attendant and gathered up the boys and the two disciples.

"Come on, we're being taken to pay our respects."

"I know the way," Jiang Liu said.

"We're staying together."

They were led to a rock face and found a cave hollowed into the living rock. Outside, an offering table had indeed been erected, and a few older, sensible-looking monks were stationed down the path to keep onlookers away. Jiang Liu, his face suddenly pale, had the packs opened and the incense and other items taken out. One of the monks touched a jug of water and it suddenly steamed, allowing them to present the tea in the cups provided. An image was placed in the centre of the table, although Jiang Cheng was sure it was not meant to be an accurate image of the saint. Unless perhaps rays of light had actually shone from the man. It could have been useful on dark nights, a voice very much like Wei Wuxian's as a boy whispered in his mind and he had an awful urge to laugh.

"Why does he have a vermilion mark?" Jin Ling said, presenting his incense sticks.

"It's a chakra showing his holiness and closeness to the gods," Jiang Liu said, taking more incense and bowing again. "And his great wisdom. As his heir, I should really wear it too. It's not fashion, like yours."

"We don't wear it for fashion," Jin Ling said sniffily. "It shows we strive for wisdom. Isn't that so, Uncle?"

"Don't argue while you're paying respects," Jiang Cheng said. "You are both horrific urchins. Jiang Liu, you may enter and worship at the actual memorial. We will remain outside."

Jiang Liu took a deep breath, grabbed a massive handful of incense sticks and went in. Jiang Cheng formed the others up.

"Give him some peace in there. If any other of those monks comes up to gawk or make a scene, we'll keep them back, understand?"

They all nodded. All was quiet until a raw howl of distress came from the cave. Jin Ling spun around and hared for the opening. Jiang Cheng leapt after him with all his spiritual strength and managed to land in front of the cave entrance before he could set foot in it.

"Back to the line!"

"Unc-"

"Back!"

The wordless cry came again. Some monks were beginning to peep at them from a safe distance.

"I mean it, Ah-Ling! Go! No one gets past!"

Jin Ling reluctantly stepped back. Jiang Cheng whirled around and strode into the cave. Inside it was brightly lit, with lanterns hanging from hooks in the walls. Memorial plaques were set into the rock, and in alcoves he could see the bodies of monks, laid out in their robes, or relics such as Rikudo had brought to Lotus Pier. At the back of the cave he found Jiang Liu, kneeling on bare rock, shaking in grief and weeping inconsolably. In front of him was a plaque, still quite new, and the jade reliquary that Jiang Cheng remembered.

"Come on," he said, "let's go home. It's all right, it's very good to weep for your father –" His voice died away as he looked at the memorial plaque. He read it again. And again. This? This had been Jiang Liu's foster-father? The saint had been a man interested in puns and wordplay, who had disguised Jiang Liu under a poetic by-name for years, and who stood there himself in plain sight, acclaimed by all as the Clear Light. Koumyou had mocked his family for years with his chosen name, Jiang Cheng realised, looking at last at how the saint's name was written. His light was so clear it had blinded everyone to the truth, it seemed.

"Jiang Liu," he said, "read out the saint's plaque."

"Preferring enlightenment's wisdom to worldly gold, Koumyou," Jiang Liu sobbed, and put his hands over his eyes. "Master," he wept, "why didn't you let me help you?"

Jiang Cheng read the plaque again, the wordplay dropping into his mind. Clear Light. Enlightened wisdom. What the saint had wanted to be rather than – Jin Guangming.

Jiang Liu's saintly foster-father was a high-ranked Jin no one had ever heard of.

At home once more in Lotus Pier Jiang Cheng strode back and forth across his private chambers, trying to think. What did it mean, that Jiang Liu's saint was a Jin of the same generation as Jin Guangshan? A cousin, a brother – but there were no brothers unaccounted for, surely. A younger one, long since dead with no living son, leaving his older brother's line the only heirs of all the family. Jin Guangshan had been the richest man in all the cultivation world precisely because of that. Jin Guangming must have been a first cousin. Surely the Jin would want to know that one of their clan had been killed, and almost certainly murdered – they should have been seeking the killer for years, and would be shamed by their inaction. Yet, who was the man's nearest kin? Jiang Liu would say it was him, of course, and no doubt that was true if one went by love alone. But if one took custom and the law into account, well -

He could hardly march into Lanling and demand that they seek justice for a dead relative they didn't even know existed. He'd look ridiculous and had no right to tell them to seek justice for the man anyway. And if he did, Jin Ling would swear some ridiculous oath for a quest of vengeance immediately, he knew that. It was exactly what he would have done at the same age, faced with a friend's father's death suddenly coming right home to the family. What was needed was to track down exactly who this Guangming was, or at least had been before he renounced the world. He had perhaps given up on his family, but if Jiang Cheng knew anything about the Jin, it was that they never renounced anything that might be of use to them.

He couldn't ask to search through the Jin family records. That would be very tasteless. He, however, knew nothing about the Jin family tree other than what his parents had spoken of. Any records linking Jiang with the other sects had been lost in the massacre. The Lans, now they were exactly the nit-picking, nosy, ink-swilling sort of sect that no doubt had records on everyone's families going back centuries. He'd just have to be given access to their libraries and he'd find out every last Jin and Jin-adjacent birth in the last five hundred years before dinnertime. He clamped his lips together and told himself that there were probably one or two Lans that he didn't wish at the bottom of the sea. There was no way he was setting foot in Gusu, let alone asking a Lan for anything.

Which left – He groaned and scrubbed at his face, then went off to find Jiang Liu.

"Put on warmer clothes," he said, finding the boy slumped at the edge of the training grounds, staring at nothing. "We're going to Qinghe."

"How come Lotus Pier isn't built up like this?"

Because we're not paranoid spirit-sabre wielding maniacs, didn't sound like the sort of thing a gentleman would say, especially when attempting to get a favour from those very people.

"We didn't originate as a border fortress."

It was very freeing to wander through Qinghe with just Jiang Liu, as if he were a cultivator of little rank. If he could have left the boy behind as well he would have, but who knew what he would have done in his renewed grief. As they reached the inner sections, guards challenged him, standing down as he announced his name.

There was an audience in session as they slipped into the Nie Hall. Some well-dressed townspeople were kneeling before the clan leader's seat, and making impassioned pleas about a creature attacking their orchards. Even from his distance, Jiang Cheng could see the sheer alarm on Nie Huaisang's face as he shrank back in the seat, both hands raised as if to protect himself from his own people. Sitting enthroned as a sect leader, swathed in layers of silks in the Nie colours, he looked like a little boy playing dress-up although he and Jiang Cheng were the same age.

"I, er, don't really know what I can do for you," Nie Huaisang said as his townsfolk raised pleading hands. "Have you, um, tried shutting the gates?" He grimaced. "I'm sorry, I really don't know –"

"Oh, fuck me," Jiang Liu said a little too loudly, as irritated Nie disciples turned to glare. "Do you believe this shit?" he said to Jiang Cheng.

"Shh, he can't help it. He's always been like this."

"No, I mean – "

Jiang Cheng stepped out into the centre and signalled one of the secretaries who seemed all too practised in taking embarrassing attention from Nie Huaisang.

"Sect Leader Jiang Wanyin has come to Qinghe, Sect Leader Nie!"

"Oh, how lovely!" Nie Huaisang said in a way that shrieked Save me!

"It's good to see you," Jiang Cheng said, forcing himself to actually smile pleasantly. He wanted the man to help him. "It's so interesting to hear the news of your people here and see how things are dealt with in Qinghe, when of course I might do things a little differently in Lotus Pier –"

He left it hanging there and Nie Huaisang leapt on it like a drowning man seizing a rope.

"Oh, how would you deal with this creature there?"

"Well, I suppose I might put a couple of squads of disciples surrounding the orchards at night. I'd have them attempt to attract the monster into an area – " Nie Huaisang was nodding gratefully along with his words, as were the townsfolk.

When he finished, Nie Huaisang cleared his throat and turned to the nearest disciple. "As Sect Leader Jiang is a guest, perhaps it would be polite to try his suggestions! Please organise the men as you see fit."

"Yes, Sect Leader," the man said, bowed and hurried away.

The townspeople called out praise to both Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang, and hurried off as well. Nie Huaisang stood up quickly.

"Fengyong, take over any remaining cases!"

A senior disciple bowed. Jiang Cheng recognised him from the hunt in Lanling, the man whom the bear had attacked. "Yes, Sect Leader."

"Quick, quick," Nie Huaisang said to Jiang Cheng in a whisper, and indicated a door in the side wall.

"A moment! Liu!" Jiang Cheng hissed, beckoning, and then followed their host, Jiang Liu hurrying up behind them.

The door led to a perfectly ordinary corridor, which was obscurely disappointing. Jiang Cheng spared a moment of internal mockery for himself; was he still a boy to yearn for secret passages in distant fortresses?

"You really saved me in there," Nie Huaisang said with a groan. "Ugh, I can't stand it when they look at me like that. Let's have some tea! Or wine! Wait – " He looked at Jiang Liu. "Tea it is." He smiled mischievously at Jiang Liu. "Although when we were your age, young man, I can assure you we did not just drink tea. Alas, time passes and the young people of today all look like babies to me. It's awful, I've become so responsible, Jiang-xiong."

Jiang Cheng smiled in a non-committal way, feeling sure that the Nie townsfolk and disciples might hold different views.

They ended in a delicately-appointed sitting room, where a maidservant brought them tea and sweets. Jiang Cheng looked around at the cushions and wall hangings, and the beautiful carpet. No doubt it was meant to be restful, but the sheer amount of grey and grey-green was making him depressed.

"You're staying, aren't you?" Nie Huaisang said. "Of course you are! It's so good to have guests! Have you ever had Qinghe cooking, Jiang Genjo? You'll like it, I'm sure!"

"You know his courtesy name?" Jiang Cheng said, surprised.

Nie Huaisang looked at him, and at Jiang Liu, and smiled. "Of course! It's how you introduced him to San-ge in Lanling that time."

"That's the one time the name was said, you weren't even sitting near us, and you were drunk," Jiang Liu said rudely. "That's some memory you've got, Nie Huaisang."

"Jiang Liu."

"Oh," Nie Huaisang said, ignoring the strangled noise Jiang Cheng had made. "Our little bear-charmer has claws. Maybe you don't need a good memory if all you'll do in life is hit monsters with a piece of sharpened steel, but I can tell you, a training in the arts gives one an excellent memory for the most incidental detail." He laughed as he poured more tea. "And I never forget things connected to such a pretty, flower-like face."

"Nie Huaisang."

"It's just harmless teasing, Jiang-xiong," Nie Huaisang said cheerfully. "You don't mind, do you, Ah-Liu?" He gave Jiang Liu a happy smile, as his eyes drifted quite slowly down him and back up again.

Jiang Liu was scarlet-faced and furious, but silent. Jiang Cheng had done his best to impress on him that they needed a favour; maybe he was done with insulting their host. Maybe their host was done with his own silliness. Jiang Cheng tried to forget that he had just seen a respectable sect leader flirting with his teenage ward; he earnestly wished he was back in Lotus Pier and had never got out of bed that morning.

"Why are you here, Jiang-xiong?" Nie Huaisang said. "With only a junior disciple?"

"I'm the only one he needs," Jiang Liu said, his voice his best, haughtiest I-am-a-high-priest tone for months. "I'm more of a strong tree than a flower."

"Point me at Qinghe's coldest river," Jiang Cheng ground out. "You can throw him in yourself." Perhaps he'd boot Nie Huaisang in after the brat.

"It's natural in the young to test authority," Nie Huaisang said. "Remember how we used to try to trick Lan Qiren?"

"I never did! That was all you and –" He stopped. He wasn't going to be trapped into ridiculous memories. Not now when that murderer had come back and was who knew where.

"Jiang Genjo, why don't you try sparring against some Nie disciples? I'm sure you haven't come up against our style of fighting before." Nie Huaisang clapped his hands and the maidservant came back. "Escort Master Jiang Genjo to the practice area. Tell the trainers I said he's to spar."

"I'm not a beginner," Jiang Liu said. "If I embarrass your men, that's on them." He looked at Jiang Cheng. "I'd rather stay."

"Too bad," Jiang Cheng said. "Go and show them what a Jiang can do."

Jiang Liu stood and bowed. "I'll embarrass them all for you, Sect Leader."

Jiang Cheng ground his teeth. Idiot boys and idiot boyhood friends, he was cursed with both.

"One more cup of tea," Nie Huaisang said, pouring. "We don't want to look like we're running off to plot, after all!" They drank, excruciatingly slowly, and then he stood, straightening his silvery-grey robes. "Let's go for a walk, Jiang-xiong. I can show you my pretty little birds."

A gentleman didn't heave a sigh, or complain. A gentleman followed his host's lead, and contemplated wringing the necks of any damn songbirds he came across. Nie Huaisang was like a bird himself, wittering on about – well, Jiang Cheng wasn't entirely sure, but he thought it was a musical performance – as they strolled deeper into the private quarters, crossed a courtyard and found themselves in a house that was certainly for the personal use of the clan leader. It was not what Jiang Cheng had expected, being smaller and less showy than most clan leaders might wish.

"Was this your brother or your father's –" he said.

"Oh, no. I've lived here since I was a very young man. I never wanted to move into my brother's rooms. My birds are over here, Jiang-xiong."

They certainly were. Several large cages of songbirds stood in a shuttered room. Nie Huaisang opened the shutters so that the room was flooded with light and the birds, many of which had been dozing, all awoke.

"Hello, my sweethearts," Nie Huaisang said, scooping up seeds to feed them. The birds chirruped and flapped, making a cacophony of sound that went right through Jiang Cheng's skull.

"Tell me," Nie Huaisang said quietly. "You never visit me. We've barely spoken for years. You're here for something, Jiang-xiong, with your rude little foundling. What is it?" He raised a calm hand as Jiang Cheng looked around. "There's always someone nearby in the main buildings, but this is my place. We're alone. And all anyone outside will hear are the birds. I don't know why anyone would want to come to someone as useless as me for help, but if I can, I will."

"Don't talk about yourself like that," Jiang Cheng said awkwardly. He had a sudden memory of them as boys in Gusu, Nie Huaisang airily saying that he'd talk his da-ge into allowing him to cultivate through the arts rather than the sabre, and Wei Wuxian laughing and telling him that he'd have to paint the exploits of the Twin Prides of Yunmeng. He'd called them both idiots, but they'd all been happy in a way he wasn't sure he'd felt since.

Nie Huaisang shrugged. "I know what people say. Come on, out with it, Jiang-xiong!"

"Jiang Liu – Jiang Genjo's original foster-father, the monk. His name was Koumyou –"

"Koumyou, the Clear Light, yes, San-ge said. A famous Buddhist practitioner, it seems."

"Apparently! Except he sat on a mountain in my territory and I never spoke with the man. He liked word play, and gave Jiang Liu a name based on the characters of his name and the circumstances of his adoption." Jiang Cheng felt his jaw tighten again: the boy could be excused, but had none of the other monks on the Golden Mountain looked at the name and thought of a more usual way of reading it? "I'm sure he did the same with his own name – I brought Jiang Liu to worship his memorial tablet and Koumyou was written Guangming. The whole inscription made it as clear as day that he was a Jin."

"Oh," Nie Huaisang said. "I didn't think any of the Jin clan could give up wealth and renounce the world." He sat by one of the cages, smiling in unaffected pleasure at the birds.

"If they did, don't you think they'd, I don't know, build a massive temple to install their family member in? Or go around boasting that there was a saint in their clan? They're the damn Jin!"

"Do you like anyone at all?"

"What?"

"Nothing. Why do you want to know who he was? He became a monk – he wasn't of any clan any longer. I'm not very bright, and don't understand most religious teaching but I do think that's what's expected, isn't it?"

Jiang Cheng looked at his hands. He hadn't even been able to properly formulate it to himself, and now he had to explain it to this fool.

"If his name was Guangming," he said slowly, so that Nie Huaisang could follow, "he was the same generation as Jin Guangshan. Can you find out if he was a cousin? Or, I don't know how many brothers Jin Guangshan's father had. A younger one, obviously, Jin Zixun's father. Perhaps Guangming was the youngest?"

"I can look through our records," Nie Huaisang said. "But does any of this really matter? Why don't I ask San-ge, he'll definitely find the answer in no time-"

"No!" Jiang Cheng said fervently. The bird that had been about to hop onto Nie Huaisang's hand flapped off in fright. Nie Huaisang himself looked a little like one of his alarmed birds, flutteringly astonished that anyone would turn down an offer of help from Jin Guangyao.

"I was shown one document from the Golden Mountain," Jiang Cheng said, collecting his thoughts, trying to find a way to explain that this was between just the two of them, "just one in which this saint expressed a hope that the boy would be trained by his clan. What documents wasn't I shown? Jiang Liu himself at the start talked about how he wasn't shown anything because he knew the man's calligraphy. The boy thinks that he's been appointed his foster-father's spiritual heir, but –" he paused. "Nie-xiong. Nie-xiong, I am trusting you. Huaisang, you can't say this even to your San-ge, not yet –"

Nie Huaisang watched him with a closed expression. "It's up to you to tell me or not."

" - what if Jiang Liu wasn't made Koumyou's spiritual heir? What if he was adopted by Jin Guangming?"

Nie Huaisang sat back. "That's an interesting suggestion. I really hadn't thought your mind worked like that."

"What?"

"Nothing. If that was the case, a lot would depend on exactly who your Guangming was." He looked at Jiang Cheng in some fascination. "What will you do if you find the saint didn't mean the Jiang clan to take the boy – what will you do, Jiang-xiong, if this makes Jiang Liu a rival to Jin Ling?"

"I don't know," Jiang Cheng said quietly, hating how much he sounded like Nie Huaisang. He felt suddenly, oddly bereft at the thought of the Jin claiming Jiang Liu. Out of nowhere, he thought of Jin Guangyao's prayer that if a young person were fated to die in training it should be Jiang Liu rather than Jin Ling. Within the space of two heartbeats he had decided that he'd never bring Jiang Liu to Lanling again, and then that he was being ridiculous. Jin Guangyao was a gentleman making a pious wish for his nephew's health, nothing more. "I'll consider the matter."

"That's the trouble with knowledge," Nie Huaisang said. "Once you've seen something you can never unsee it, no matter how much easier it would make your life. I'll do my best to find this out for you, and you mustn't do anything hot-headed. You can be so impulsive, Jiang-xiong! Now, come and admire this lovely finch."

He coaxed a colourful bird onto his finger and held it up for Jiang Cheng to see. It regarded them both from a shiny little black eye.

"Yes, very nice. Maybe we should go straight back to Yunmeng –"

"You will stay, and have dinner, and complain about how cold it gets here at night, and have a good breakfast and leave in the morning," Nie Huaisang said, gently putting the bird back in its cage. "And I'll do some reading. I never get guests, Jiang-xiong! Do stay! And tell your little disciple that I'm a very silly person and always have been and he shouldn't take my words to heart. I mean, I wouldn't mind directly telling him I'm sorry for upsetting him, but the social niceties –" He shrugged helplessly.

"Of course you won't apologise to the little brat," Jiang Cheng said in outrage. The mere idea of a sect leader – even a remarkably mild and downright pathetic one – abasing himself to a junior disciple of another clan made him feel peculiar.

"He no doubt has been having those rumours thrown in that pretty face of his," Nie Huaisang said off-hand, scattering some more seeds for his birds.

"I'm going to rip Yao's intestines out," Jiang Cheng said. Saying such a thing in front of Nie Huaisang was like saying it in an empty room. "And then I'm going to strangle Ouyang with them."

There was a snap as the fan opened and Nie Huaisang took refuge behind it, his eyes wide and round above the silk.

"I shouldn't have reminded you," he said. "Really, Jiang-xiong, it's best to ignore such petty scandals. It's nothing! Your family has dealt with silly innuendo before, with great dignity. San-ge always says so."

"What innuendo?" Jiang Cheng said. "What's Jin Guangyao told you now?"

Nie Huaisang's eyes somehow grew wider and what Jiang Cheng could see of his face looked paler, although that might have been a trick of the light and the pale grey silk fan.

"Nothing," he said in a whimper. "I can't remember! You know me, terrible memory!"

"What happened to a training in the arts giving you an excellent memory, Nie-xiong? Tell me or – I'll let every last one of these birds go, I swear it."

"Wei Wuxian," Nie Huaisang said, his eyes sliding away. "The rumours – you know – "

Jiang Cheng had whole heartbeats before the reality of what Nie Huaisang was saying broke in on him. Was his father's memory forever to have this filth thrown on it? He dimly became aware that his host was looking at him very oddly, and that he could see this, because the fan had drifted down.

"Do you need to sit down? Jiang-xiong? Jiang-xiong, please, please don't mention this to San-ge. He gives no credence to those rumours, nor do I. He was just talking about the great dignity with which your family weathered such base allegations."

"Those rumours are lies," Jiang Cheng said at last.

"Yes. I promise I won't mention your request today to anyone, I really won't. I'll try not to at least. Just – don't think that San-ge was trying to blacken your family name. Why would he want to do that?"

"Fine," Jiang Cheng said, unsure he could ever look at Jin Guangyao the same way again. Even thinking that the old scandal had passed through his mind –

He watched Nie Huaisang close up the cages and shutter the window and then they walked out to watch the disciples training. The Nie style was rigorous and forceful and the disciple facing Jiang Liu seemed to be doing his best to decapitate him, the boy sliding under and leaping over the powerful thrusts and swings of the sabre. Jiang Liu had, it seemed, been waiting for an audience he deemed worthwhile, as his next leap ended with him balancing on the edge of his opponent's sabre, from whence he backflipped off, kicking the man's wrist and sending the weapon shooting up. Jiang Liu caught it and returned it cockily to its owner.

"Well done!" Nie Huaisang called, applauding, before Jiang Cheng could yell at Jiang Liu to stop being a little shit.

The disciples all bowed in their direction. Jiang Cheng was certain he heard some mutters about the cheating ways of southerners. Having humiliated someone in front of their sect leader, Jiang Liu looked in a very good humour.

"Let's have some food," Nie Huaisang said. "Then I must get back to the business of making a fool of myself – you and Jiang Liu should visit the town! If you see anything you want, have the merchant send the bill to the Unclean Realm."

"You're far too kind," Jiang Cheng said, feeling wrong-footed. Such generosity from a man he never spoke to from one end of the year to the other. "If I might say so, just take your time when people ask you questions, and give the answer a close examination. It is hard to walk in the footsteps of the Scarlet Peak Master, but Lan Qiren saw potential in you."

"Now you're being kind," Nie Huaisang said, his smile the polite meaningless one that gentlemen wore in public. "It's all right, I know I'm a fool." He ushered Jiang Cheng ahead of him to lunch.

After they had eaten, and then been gently shooed out to trudge around Qinghe town, Jiang Cheng gamely attempted to interest Jiang Liu in the sights and sounds of a new place. The boy's mind was very clearly elsewhere, and after a little he gave up and just enjoyed the ability to have no responsibilities for an hour or two.

"Sect Leader Nie didn't mean to upset you," he said at last, as they sat drinking tea and looking out at the mountains. "He speaks before he thinks; he wanted you to know that." It was a better way of putting it than to call the man a fool.

"Mmm," Jiang Liu said. "Yeah. It pissed me off, I got distracted." He looked straight at Jiang Cheng and very formally raised his tea cup as if toasting at a banquet. "Nice move."

Jiang Cheng sat back and just let himself laugh. This really was the most annoying, insolent boy –

"Why am I even trying to help you, Liu? You're convinced you know people on a deeper level than men who've known them for longer than you've been alive, and you make the most ridiculous comments! Are you really suggested that a sect leader tried to throw a junior disciple from another clan off-balance to distract him? In his own stronghold? For what purpose? I can assure you that of any man in the cultivation world, the least likely to even think of such a thing would be Nie Huaisang – he's harmless. He was the laziest, stupidest boy to attend training in Gusu and he hasn't improved. He should be sitting at his brother's side offering home-improvement tips not running a sect."

Jiang Liu smirked down at his cup. "And when people look at me, they see a skinny kid," he said.

Jiang Cheng decided against the obvious answer. The putdown he was formulating died as Jiang Liu suddenly grimaced and doubled over. He gave a hiss of pain, putting a hand to his head.

"Liu! What is it?"

"Nothing," Jiang Liu said, his face pale. He took a cautious breath, and then a deeper one. "I just – I think it was a cold breeze, right through my head it felt like. Didn't you feel it? These damn mountains. It was like someone screaming right in my ear."

"We'll go back to the Unclean Realm," Jiang Cheng said. That monster, he at once thought in fury, still trying to pass himself off as Jin Guangshan's harmless madman of a bastard. What had he actually done when he knocked Jiang Liu out? "Or to Lotus Pier. If you need a doctor –"

"I'm fine," Jiang Liu said. "I just can't believe you didn't hear the wind shrieking, that's all." He drank his tea and even ate the snacks that Jiang Cheng had ordered, as if trying to show how healthy he was.

He seemed himself, so after a few minutes Jiang Cheng tried not to worry; a few scrapes and bumps were part of growing up. Growing pains, his father had called them. Damn laziness and excuses, his mother had said.

Dinner was perfectly civilized, perfectly gentlemanly, and Nie Huaisang spoke about the theory of painting until Jiang Cheng thought he might have to leap across the tables and brain the man with his own incense burner. The excitement of talking about something he actually knew more than a fart in a windstorm about made him lose what little sense he had. Jiang Cheng could not fathom how either his father or brother had allowed him to be so – unmartial.

"Will you allow your disciple some wine?" Nie Huaisang said cheerfully, clearly getting a second wind as the evening progressed and no doubt desiring to start in on poetry or, Heaven forbid, the illustration of erotic books.

"My first foster-father did not approve of wine for boys," Jiang Liu said quickly.

"I commend your filial obedience," Nie Huaisang said. "Sect Leader Jiang and I do like it. Maybe you'd like to rest?"

Jiang Liu just looked at him, then at Jiang Cheng.

"He's sending me to bed? Seriously?"

"Yes!" Jiang Cheng said, seizing the opportunity. "So am I! Sleep off that headache from earlier and maybe you'll be awake at a decent hour in the morning for once!"

Jiang Liu heaved himself up with a just-audible mutter of Assholes, gave a perfunctory bow that encompassed both their general directions and sloped off.

"Astonishingly," Jiang Cheng said to the room in general, "his manners are better than when he first showed up."

"We can't all be a Jin Guangyao, with exquisite manners from childhood," Nie Huaisang said. He poured wine for both of them. "Is the poor boy unwell?"

"He got a blast of wind in the ear, I don't want him getting ill."

"It can be chilly here if you're not used to it," Nie Huaisang said. "I'll have more blankets brought to him." He clapped and when a servant came, asked for a ridiculous number of blankets to be taken to the guest chambers. It was kindly meant, no doubt, but also a little irritating, as if he thought that all cultivators were as soft as himself.

"I've been doing some reading, Jiang-xiong! I was fascinated, and really, I thought my senior disciples could handle official business much better than me so I made a start on your queries."

"Nie-xiong," Jiang Cheng said, "you really should –"

"Of course I found so many reference to Jin Guangshan and his younger brother, that repellent Jin Zixun's father. And one or two references to the friendship of Madam Jin with Third Lady Yu, of course and the alliance with Jiang –"

Jiang Cheng made a sad noise that he knew the rest of the world interpreted as his glaring stony-eyed at the table and growling. He could not imagine the world without Jin Ling in it, but if the marriage had never taken place, Older Sister would never have been there and – He cleared his throat and looked up.

"Anything useful?"

"I looked for mentions of cousins – you must understand, I mainly have records of hunts and battles, with family records of marriages and copies of letters sent between clans. It's well organised, because my brother wouldn't have stood for anything less, but –" He shrugged. "Mostly I found girls who married into other clans, or to other Jin who don't seem to have had children. I'll keep looking. I should look in the records of my grandfather's day, I think. That would perhaps tell me about Jin Guangshan's generation as young men."

"Thanks anyway."

"You know, if anyone knows about everyone, it would be Gusu Lan."

"No."

" . . . Well then. Drink up. I have some books of battle accounts for you to read."

Hours later, Jiang Cheng was sitting surrounded with haphazardly piled up books and scrolls, silently cursing every Nie who had ever lived. Bloodthirsty, undereducated, half-barbaric butchers, quite literally. He looked up from an account of the many times removed cousin and the numerous heads he'd taken in battle - heads! - and watched Nie Huaisang wearily pull another volume into the lamplight.

"Are these the right era?" he asked, leaning his head on one hand. He couldn't bear to read a single sentence more about the prowess of any member of the Nie clan.

"Uh, yes," Nie Huaisang said in a tired voice. "Maybe? Which one are you reading?"

"About Nie Qingyun and his favourite activity."

"Oh, that's far too early. Try these."

He passed over what appeared to be records of past cultivation conferences. Whoever had written them had a style of brushwork designed to induce headaches and eyestrain. Jiang Cheng briefly considered renouncing the world himself, then started reading. The lamps were burning low when Nie Huaisang squeaked with excitement.

"Jiang-xiong! This is a collection of letters from my great-grandfather's time!"

"Fascinating," Jiang Cheng said. "Uhhh – isn't that too far back?"

"No, it looks like it's from the month before he went into qi deviation," Nie Huaisang said, like he was talking about a minor ailment. "Look!" He shoved the paper under Jiang Cheng's nose. "Congratulations and a gift were sent from the Unclean Realm to Carp Tower! On the birth of the heir to Lanling Jin!"

Jiang Cheng peered at the letter, and belatedly noted the date. He read it again.

"Is this right?"

"I don't know, Jiang-xiong. I'd say so. Five years before Jin Guangshan's birth. Look – jades were sent on the occasion of the birth of Jin Feng – to be known as Jin Guangming."

Jiang Cheng sat back heavily. Jiang Liu's saint was Jin Guangshan's older brother. The Jin clan had hidden the fact of their heir renouncing them and the world. How embarrassing for a powerful clan, that their longed-for heir was so unfilial as to turn his back on his duties. He must have done so as a very young man for them to have been able to hide it so well. What would happen if he reappeared, and with a son of his own? He knelt forwards urgently, seizing Nie Huaisang's arms.

"You can't say anything about this, understand? Not to anyone."

"I'll try, I did promise," Nie Huaisang said. "But I'm not good at keeping secrets."

"Then stay away from Carp Tower!"

"But what if I have a problem?" Nie Huaisang's eyes grew enormous. "What if I need help or advice? You don't understand, Jiang-xiong, I'm sure the ordinary people of Yunmeng are very pleasant and polite to you, but here in Qinghe they speak their minds! It can be very disturbing! They tell me outright that I don't live up to Da-ge! Or to my father! I don't even want to live up to my father: that's what got him assassinated. And to be honest, he could be very mean to Da-ge and me; I'm not trying to be unfilial, but nothing either of us ever did –" He fell silent. "I would like to live up to Da-ge," he said more quietly. "I'm trying to, in my own way."

"You can ask me for advice," Jiang Cheng said, unwillingly, shocked by such a self-indulgent outburst. "Just – for the moment, try not to talk to the Jins too much. I know that Jin Guangyao is your personal friend, but – I need to think about this, Huaisang."

Nie Huaisang looked like he was about to cry from gratitude. Jiang Cheng tried to devise a spell on the spot to stop that.

"Thank you, Wanyin. I know we haven't spoken much recently, but I've always considered you a friend. Oh, listen to us. Too much wine and too much late night reading. Maybe we should call it a night. We can read on in the morning." He clambered up, as ungraceful as someone who had never trained in his life. "Let me show you to your rooms, you'll get lost if I don’t."

Once inside his rooms, Jiang Cheng cast an eye at the small room to the side where Jiang Liu's bed had been made. He groaned. The moonlight fell on an empty bed. Where had he gone? Jiang Cheng did not want to go back out and wander around looking for a lost annoyance, who no doubt had been arrested by now and would cause embarrassment in the morning. He strode into the small room, finding the shutters wide open, leading onto a moonlit balcony. The patch of shadow resolved itself into a leg and he hurried out, wondering if somehow there had been an enemy – Jiang Liu lay on the cold stone, fast asleep. Jiang Cheng bent down and put a hand on his face – he was cold, but the sleep seemed natural.

"Wha –" Jiang Liu muttered, half-waking. He was all right, he was just asleep and was not in the grip of one of his bad dreams.

"Wake up," Jiang Cheng said, more kindly than he had intended. The boy looked younger than ever lying there, his face relaxed and innocent. "Why are you asleep out here?"

"The moon," Jiang Liu said sleepily, sounding like a small boy. "I wanted to see it –"

It had always meant something private to him, Jiang Cheng knew that, something connected to the saint. If you could call a Jin a saint.

"Come on," he said, "it's too cold here to sleep out. Back to bed, Ah-Liu." The familiarity slipped out before he even noticed, moved as he was by the boy's youth and filial devotion. After everything he'd said to Jin Ling! He drew himself up, stiff and horrified in his embarrassment, but Jiang Liu was still too half-asleep to have noticed. He shuffled back indoors and Jiang Cheng closed the shutters.

Dammit. He had almost felt for a moment as if he had another nephew.

In the morning they ate the food brought to them by a young disciple, the sabre over her back almost as big as she was.

"Sect Leader Nie says to tell you he's not awake yet," she said, bowing.

Jiang Cheng nodded brusquely. How ridiculous. One shouldn't allow a late night to keep one from proper duties.

"We'll spar after breakfast," he said.

She bowed again. "Anyone will show you to the training ground, Sect Leader Jiang."

When she was gone he looked at Jiang Liu, hunched over a cup of tea.

"We found something last night. Your foster-father appears to have been Jin Guangshan's elder brother."

"He was Koumyou of the Golden Mountain monastery," Jiang Liu said. "He wasn't part of any worldly clan."

Jiang Cheng sighed. "That depends on how you look at things. How did he actually refer to you?"

"Kouryuu," Jiang Liu said, as if explaining things to an idiot. "And the last night –" His face was set, resolute. " – he named me Genjo."

"I mean, how did he describe your relationship?"

"Don't you start with the rumours," Jiang Liu said. He looked at Jiang Cheng's annoyed face. "His disciple. His student. He said I was like a son to him. That I was his heir."

"Do you know," Jiang Cheng said, with what he thought was commendable patience, "if he formally adopted you?"

Jiang Liu looked at him, then gave one of his dry snorts of laughter. "Really? That's what you're thinking of? That I'm what, Jin Liu? Just when I'm almost used to being a Jiang." He lay back on his elbows. "Someone pass me a solid gold hanfu and slap a vermilion handprint on my face, I'm a fucking Jin. No, I have no idea if he formally adopted me or not. I just made do with a father's love, like the bastard peasant I am."

"Were you this rude to him?" Jiang Cheng said. "I can see why he'd want to keep things on an informal basis."

Jiang Liu sat upright, looking actually hurt. Stupid. Stupid. The boy was insufferable, but he was no older than Jin Ling, veering between childhood and the outer shores of manhood.

"Excuse me," he said with perfect courtesy. "I need to pray." He took himself back onto the cold stone balcony and the sound – louder than it needed to be, Jiang Cheng decided – of a sutra being chanted started up. Sometimes days and days went without him chanting, the intervals getting longer as he had become more used to Lotus Pier. That damnable Rikudo and the ill-fated trip to the monastery had brought everything back again. Jiang Cheng went out and watched him sitting there, feet folded onto his thighs like a monk, reciting an apparently interminable sutra from memory.

"Come on, let's go and spar. We practice cultivation through learning the sword."

Jiang Liu paused in his recitation. "Maybe I want to cultivate through scriptures." He started reciting again from the beginning.

"Come and practice with me, and you can plan a whole new cultivation style through Buddhist scriptures if you want."

Jiang Liu grouchily stood up. "Fine. And it's not new. Just because you're a layman and don't understand –"

"Cheeky brat."

Jiang Liu collected his sword and got ready to follow him. "Clan Leader," he said suddenly. "I wasn't rude to Master Koumyou. I wasn't as polite as you'd like, but I wasn't rude. I never had to be."

"He indulged you greatly," Jiang Cheng said. He looked at the young face, seeing that for once Jiang Liu wasn't trying to seem older than his years, but was simply being an annoying boy ready to defend his perfect father against all comers. "Because he loved you," Jiang Cheng added, and watched Jiang Liu blink and look like an expected attack hadn't come. "Discipline is also part of how a father should show love; sons should be taught hard work and how to make an effort to excel."

Jiang Liu nodded. "Before we went to see Master Koumyou's memorial tablet, had you ever actually been in the Golden Mountain Monastery?"

"I had managed to avoid that pleasure."

"You should have let me show you around. It has many beautiful pathways that a monk might wander along, thinking about holy matters or dinner – mostly dinner, with that lot. Remember how they tossed me a broom? They don't like unsightly leaves on those paths. I have swept li upon li upon li of paths free of leaves, just because Master Koumyou asked me to, and had to turn around and start all over again because the mountain breeze just blows leaves onto them right away. I've always worked hard."

Jiang Cheng nodded. It did sound like onerous, frustrating work for a child.

"You were perfectly right to obey your foster-father so quickly," he said. "And," he added solemnly, "the next time you're rude to me, I'm making you sweep out all of Lotus Pier."

Jiang Liu actually laughed. "I've handed you a weapon."

"Indeed you have, young man. Tell me, when you were younger, what was the worst thing you did in the monastery? I want to know what merits giving you a broom."

The ploy worked: Jiang Liu looked mischievous. It was shocking how young he suddenly appeared.

"A lot of the older novices detested me. They called me Master Koumyou's pet, made up rumours – well, you know the sort I mean – tried to trip me when I was bringing him his meals: that sort of bullshit. I just ignored them most of the time, I knew I could kick their asses, they knew it too. But they managed to collect some worldly tat – some stuff that wasn't strictly forbidden, as long as it wasn't seen, I guess, and some stuff that was. Once, when I was ten, I took every last piece of lay clothing I could find, every charm to help them in their studies, every erotic picture – you wouldn't believe how many of those I found – and I made a nice bonfire with all my swept up leaves. Then I told the novice master I had helped my fellow novices purify their quarters. He gave me a slap for rummaging in other people's property and a harder one for not reporting them earlier, and Master Koumyou asked me to sweep the paths again."

"You're such a brat," Jiang Cheng said, laughing. "What did the other novices do?"

"Sulked and stewed in the various punishments handed out to them. They minded their manners around me for a while. Anyway, Master Koumyou didn't mind me being myself. He was funny, and thought some rules were silly, and others were good, and that sometimes you couldn't know which was which until you'd poked at them."

"Which is why he allowed barbarian gambling priests into the monastery?"

"Oh that. No, he learnt that game in the Nightless City."

"He what?" Jiang Cheng stared at him in outright astonishment.

"Yeah, he said it was on his travels when he was young. Some western priest was visiting the Wen. He said Wen Ruohan had a real gambling problem and a misunderstanding of several Buddhist artefacts in his possession. The saint won them all from him."

" - I see," Jiang Cheng said. "Let's go and do something honest."

They sparred until Nie Huaisang appeared and then Jiang Cheng attempted to take their leave. First they had to drink tea, then have lunch, then drink more tea, then he was presented with neat notes tied up with a Nie grey ribbon – he felt a little embarrassed at having wished their host would hurry along at that, but only a little – and finally, before it got too late and they were pressed to stay another night, he pulled Jiang Liu outside.

"Thank you, Nie-xiong," he said.

"What are you going to do, Jiang-xiong?"

"Consider the matter. Nie-xiong – did you know that Wen Ruohan had a gambling problem?"

Nie Huaisang looked surprised. "No. I suppose being dead is a bigger problem for him."

Jiang Cheng laughed. Who would have thought Jin Guangyao had it in him? Nie Huaisang was right – there was little point in thinking about the foibles of dead men, whether they were monsters or saints. As long as Jiang Liu didn't spread his father's gambling games any further.

"Come to Lotus Pier," he said impulsively.

"Thank you, Jiang-xiong. I will, you can depend on it. Now I suppose I'd better see if I can persuade someone to deal with the townspeople for me! Are you sure you won't stay a while longer?"

"Goodbye, Nie-xiong," Jiang Cheng said, cheerfully.

"Goodbye, Jiang-xiong, Jiang Genjo," Nie Huaisang said, nodding as Jiang Liu bowed to him.

They mounted their swords and left. The wind rose up, giving Jiang Liu a distracted look until they were many li from Qinghe.

Nie Huaisang's notes were brief, but gave every bit of information they had found together – more, in fact, Jiang Cheng realised. The man must have continued reading the next morning. Jin Guangming's year of birth, his mother's name – interesting. Not the same wife as Jin Guangshan's mother. Nie Huaisang's neat characters noted dead? divorced? beside her name. Not important, Jiang Cheng decided. It would be very tasteless to turn up to her clan and ask such questions. More relevant was the fact that a friend of this wife had acted as a nursemaid to the infant Guangming and then as one of his chief attendants. Still living! Nie Huaisang noted. Jiang Cheng shook his head. How on earth had he discovered that? It just went to show, he had potential when he wanted to put the work in. Still living where? Oh. Pingyang. He groaned. The faithful Fenli had married a Yao.

He was in Pingyang the next day, asking after Min Fenli. There was still a rawness to the town, a newness in places he would have expected to see older buildings. It was a familiar feeling from Lotus Pier. The Yao sect had suffered greatly from Wen predations, but also from being built up after the war by an idiot. However, he did not have to visit the man. He could simply look around his town.

At long last he was directed to a small shop and found a woman selling medicines.

"I'm looking for Min Fenli," he said. "I'm not sure if you can be the right woman – I don't think I'm looking for an apothecary."

"You want my mother," she said, and raised her voice. "Ma! There's a cultivator to see you! A rich one!"

After a minute or two a woman who looked to be in her late seventies came in to the shop and looked at him, surprised. She bowed, and from reflex Jiang Cheng bowed too.

"Master Jiang," she said. "How may I help you?"

"I don't know how you keep any of them straight," her daughter said.

"Look at him! He's wearing purple! Purple is the Jiang colour!"

"Still not your precious Lord Jin, then," her daughter muttered.

"My name is Jiang Wanyin," Jiang Cheng said, to stop what was obviously a well-trodden argument, and Min Fenli made an even more surprised noise. "Sect Leader Jiang! Ting! Get the sect leader some tea!"

Her daughter gave a tight smile and went to obey. Jiang Cheng gently guided Min Fenli to a seat. She looked healthy enough, but his mother would not have been impressed if he allowed an old woman to stand, even if she were his inferior.

"Auntie," he said, "I need to ask about when you served the Jin. Why did you leave?"

"Oh," she said, "It was so long ago. My friend had died, and do you know, people thought we shouldn't be friends anyway? Her father was a cultivator, you see, and mine was his servant. I attended lessons with her, but no one ever called me a cultivator. So I couldn't really stay in service with the Jin –"

She was evading answering, he was sure of it.

"When did she die, Auntie? Was it in childbirth?"

"No, oh no, it was a few years after –" She looked at him. "Why are you asking about her?"

"It's the baby," he said. "She made you her baby's nursemaid. And then you were his attendant. Did he dismiss you?"

"Ah-Feng wouldn't have been so cruel!" she said. "He was just like his mother, full of happiness and fun. His father's second wife tried to break his spirit –" She clapped a hand over her mouth. "Please don't tell Lord Jin I spoke ill of his family," she said.

"No, I won't. What happened to Ah-Feng?"

Ting came back with the tea. "Are you hearing about the saintly qualities of Ah-Feng? A pity he couldn't provide for you, Ma. Luckily you still have me."

"He endured the slights of his step mother, and the fact that his father preferred his younger brothers to him. What did it matter? He was still the heir. If he had a horse or dog he liked, it would vanish, and he would pray it had simply been sold. And one day, after his father had made a big show of providing charity at a monastery, he stood up in front of his parents, took his hair in a twist and cut it off right there in the hall. Then he pulled off his clothes and walked out barefoot and in his underwear. He told me I was the only person he'd miss."

"Come on, Ma," Ting said, pressing a cup of tea into her hands. "It's all right. You took good care of him."

"Not good enough."

"And then you were dismissed," Jiang Cheng said.

"Yes." Anger sparked in her eyes. "Lady Jin made sure they never even looked for him! He was barely fourteen years old! And her son inherited. Sect Leader Jiang, why are you asking? Do you know where he is?"

Jiang Cheng looked at her hopeful face, and at her daughter stroking her arm, still trying to get her to take the cup of tea, and knew that he couldn't tell her.

"I believe that for many years he has been the most revered resident of a monastery in Jiang territory," he said. "Unfortunately it does not allow women to visit, nor do the monks leave except on extremely rare occasions."

"He was all right," Min Fenli said in relief. "He was all right. I promised her I'd take care of him."

"You did, Ma. None of that was your fault. Maybe Lord Jiang here is different, but Lord and Lady Jin didn't care about anyone but themselves and their awful kids."

"Thank you," Jiang Cheng said. "I won't take up more of your time. Thank you, Auntie."

Before he could leave, Ting stopped him.

"Thank you for telling her that," she said in a low voice. "I might not have wanted to hear about the perfect Ah-Feng all my life, but she was convinced she could have helped him somehow."

Jiang Cheng looked around at the smallness of the shop and the thin clothing both women wore. He pulled a tael of silver from his pouch and noted how Ting looked as if she would like to refuse but knew she couldn't.

"Please accept some recompense for me keeping customers from you," he said.

She took it, and heaved a sigh. "After the war some silver and very small gold coins arrived for her, wrapped in a piece of golden silk," she said. "It helped us build the shop. She always said it was Ah-Feng. Me, I thought it was Lord Yao. My dad and older sister died in the fighting – she had talent as a cultivator, I didn't. I was sure Lord Yao had remembered their service to him."

"Yao?" Jiang Cheng said. "Really?"

"Why not? We're his people."

Jiang Cheng took his leave, astonished that anyone could see anything positive in the man.

"I'll be back soon!" Jin Ling said. "As soon as Aunt's birthday celebrations are over!"

"Yes," Jiang Cheng said. "Be good. Don't get drunk. Don't get into fights. Not in front of your aunt, that would be impolite."

Jin Ling grinned and left with the disciples sent to collect him. Jiang Cheng went back to the main house and looked at the accounts until he wanted to scream. They were doing all right, but the sheer tedium and worry of making sure that Lotus Pier was properly maintained gave him a headache.

"Bring me tea and my foster-son," he said, rubbing his temples. The tea came first and was delightfully hot and soothing. Jiang Liu, when he bothered making an appearance, had apparently been dragged through a hedge, both backwards and forwards.

"What have you been doing?"

"Teaching the younger kids how to set up an ambush."

"Of course," Jiang Cheng said. "Yes. Sit down and try not to shed earwigs on the floor. I wish to talk to you about your saint."

Jiang Liu sat, and cheekily helped himself to tea before being given permission. "If you're going to tell me he was born a Jin I don't care. I don't care that I was born a Jiang."

"Be quiet, you stupid boy. This is serious. He was Jin Guangshan's elder brother, I've confirmed it. He'd have inherited everything if he hadn't become a monk. It was his stepmother who covered that up, so there'd be no question about her son. But if Guangming adopted you it could cause havoc – his brother's line could be ousted, if you had the support for it. If you had, say, a mountain-full of armed monks and Lotus Pier at your back."

"Wait," Jiang Liu said. "Do you think I want Jin Ling's inheritance? Why would you support me in that? I don't want it."

"I don't think the saint knew about Jin Ling," Jiang Cheng said. "Not except in the broadest terms, that his brother had a grandson. I was thinking of your gambling game and the saint winning in games of chance against Wen Ruohan. I think he saw a way to gamble with the future – you're his throw of the dice. You win for him no matter what: you take up his monastic position and do whatever it is he did to great priestly acclaim, or you excel in Lotus Pier to the point where you become Head Disciple. I have no son – I wouldn't even have to adopt you, I'd probably end up leaving it to you anyway. Jin Ling will have more than enough on his hands. Or – and this was his big gamble – you are recognised as Jin Liu and his ghost spits in the eye of his step mother's. You'd have a lot of work before you to become Sect Leader Jin – you'd have to establish the legal right to inherit, then garner support, then tell Jin Ling to step back."

"No," Jiang Liu said, shaking his head. "No, just a – no. This is crazy. Hold nothing. that's what he believed. Don't cling on to worldly status or desires or anything that could get in the way of enlightenment. He made friends with people who killed his friends, because of that belief. There was no point in revenge! No point in attachment!"

"You told me that if anyone had touched you with malice that he'd have taken their arm off at the shoulder," Jiang Cheng said. "And that at the last he kept you safe, he stood between you and the monsters. He held on to you." The boy's face was stricken. "He loved you. You were his son. And like a good son you want to avenge him and do what he wanted you to do. If you did become Sect Leader Jin, what would he think?"

"He'd think it was one of the funniest things he'd ever heard," Jiang Liu said, as if the words were being dragged from him. He put his hands over his face, his eyes wide in shock.

The saint's sense of humour was pointed and a weapon in and of itself, Jiang Cheng thought. "He didn't know about Jin Ling," he said. "He didn't know that you're friends. He valued friendship – he managed to send money to the only person who was good to him in Lanling after his mother died. Jiang Liu, will you swear to me that you won't try to take Jin Ling's place?"

"I don't want it! I've told you! Yes!"

Jiang Cheng breathed out. "All right. We should let the Jin know that their clansman was most probably murdered. It's shameful that they haven't helped in hunting down the killers. Jin Guangyao will be able to help you get vengeance."

"That man thinks I'm a hick he can exploit," Jiang Liu said. "He didn't give a damn about me except as a way of needling you until the end of that hunt."

"He made some unfortunate statements, but it was sect leaders Yao and Ouyang who started the rumours," Jiang Cheng said.

"Yeah? It was Jin Guangyao who told everyone I was your bastard when he was sure it would make Jin Ling hate us both."

"That wasn't what he intended."

"Sure."

"I want you to be respectful to and about the Chief Cultivator, if only because he's Jin Ling's kinsman. We'll go to Lanling in a couple of days, and we'll talk to him about the saint's death. We'll leave out anything about you being more than his spiritual heir. Your status has not changed, you are still a valued and valuable clansman of mine."

When the birthday celebrations for Qin Su were almost over they went to Lanling. He had sent good wishes with Jin Ling of course and felt that was more than enough. To his intense irritation he discovered that Lan Xichen, Nie Huaisang and other sect leaders were present when he was announced. Nie Huaisang had probably sustained a paper cut and needed advice on dealing with it, and Lan Xichen was undeniably fond of Jin Guangyao – the others were toadying, there was no doubt. On the other hand, if he simply said what he had come to say, right then and there it couldn't be hushed up for the good of the sect reputation. It would be embarrassing for them, of course, but he'd explain things to Jin Guangyao later. The man was clever: he could make this an opportunity for several sects to hunt down these monstrous killers and whoever had sent them. The Jin reputation would come out of it better than ever, Jin Guangyao would make sure of it.

"I'm going to just say it in front of everyone," he murmured. "We're here to get justice for Jiang Liu's foster-father, and the Jin will want our support. Ready?"

The disciples all nodded. Jiang Liu froze, then backed away, silently, his eyes wide, nostrils flaring as if he were a deer that had caught the scent of a wolf. Jiang Cheng frowned as he stepped back into the middle of the disciples, and deliberately kept behind Jiang Shiu, obscured from view.

"Liu!" he hissed. "Step forwards! Now!"

He had no problem in speaking publicly of the matter, but he wanted the boy to be there, to say before the leaders of all the assembled sects that yes, his master had always written his name with those characters. That he had marked his forehead with vermilion, dammit. And not as a sign of the gods' approval, no matter what the monks thought. So much of the saint's sense of humour looked like Jin arrogance, if one knew –

"No," Jiang Liu said. "We need to talk. Right now, Jiang Cheng."

Jiang Cheng and every single Jiang disciple turned to stare at him in astonishment.

"Liu! You will not speak to the Sect Leader like that!" Jiang Shiu said, appalled.

"What did you say?" Jiang Cheng said in a dangerously even voice.

"I said I'm not going up there, we need to talk, are you fucking deaf?" Jiang Liu whispered.

Jiang Cheng found he had one moment left before the rage overtook him.

"Shiu!" he snapped. "Take over."

He grabbed Jiang Liu's arm and hauled him backwards, out past the lesser sect leaders and their disciples, out past the servants, right out the door of the great pavilion and all the way around the corner, the boy swearing all the way. Only then, when they were free from view, did he deal him a ringing blow across the head.

"How dare you? How dare you speak so familiarly and swear at me in public? How dare you refuse an order from your clan leader? From your foster-father?"

"Is that what you are?" Jiang Liu said. He looked stunned from the blow. "I don't remember my father ever hitting me. Maybe you and Jiang Fengm-"

Jiang Cheng raised his hand again in black rage. Jiang Liu lifted his chin, ready for it, breathing calmly. He didn't simply look angry any longer. He looked – like he'd lost something. Jiang Cheng slowly lowered his hand.

"Jiang Liu, explain your actions."

"Oh, I'm still a Jiang, am I? You're sure you're not fobbing me off on the Jin?"

"You certainly have the family temper," Jiang Cheng said.

"Thought you got that from your Yu side," Jiang Liu muttered. "I saw him," he said, louder. "Right up beside Jin Ling's bastard uncle, I saw him."

"Jiang Liu, you cannot refer to the Chief Cultivator in those terms!"

"No? He's a bastard, isn't he? Like me? For all we get to wear the family names like second-hand clothes?"

The boy was deeply unsettled. He hadn't been so wild in his manners for a long time. Jiang Cheng thought of all he had been through in the last weeks and saw, under the brash exterior, the youth longing for home, for familiarity. If he wasn't careful the boy would choose unwisely and he'd find him lopping off his hair at dinner and running for the mountains. It was hard for him, being with the wrong foster-father, longing for the love of the one he missed. He felt the last of the anger drain away. It had been hard at Lotus Pier to be the wrong son and see your father's love given to someone else.

"Jiang Liu," he said, "you should not have sworn at me." The boy glared and muttered, predictably. "And I should not have disciplined you as I did. It was not appropriate; you are a member of my family, not just of my clan, and you deserve to be disciplined as one." The boy was now staring at him, surprised for once. Good. "I will no doubt have to break your legs about as often as Jin Ling's, but for now, you will explain yourself properly."

Jiang Liu had a calculating look, like he was perfectly aware he'd just been told he would semi-officially be let away with murder, as opposed to the random chaos that he and Jin Ling got up to by themselves.

"So, should I call you Uncle?"

Wei Wuxian had called his father that. It was too much to think of.

"Not yet."

"There was a man," Jiang Liu said. "Dressed in scholar's robes, talking to the Chief Cultivator. They seemed on real good terms. He slipped off – I made sure he didn't see me, though I don't think he'd know me now."

"Well?" Jiang Cheng said.

"A high-ranking monk came to visit my father now and then," Jiang Liu said. "When I was small. When I was really small, the saint was gone from the monastery for a whole year, travelling with this monk. Then he'd drop by from time to time. I only ever heard his voice and his laughter, because my father always told me to sleep in his quarters at those times, and he'd shut the door tight and sit against it. The year before he was killed, though, that monk showed up again, with a novice disciple about my age in tow, and he spoke to me." Jiang Liu grimaced. "It felt like he saw me as a joint of meat at market. His spiritual energy was –" He looked up into Jiang Cheng's eyes, that odd expression he had sometimes was on his face again, as if someone older was looking out from it. " – like a pit of mud, sucking everything he saw down to drown. That was him, up there with Jin Guangyao. I thought I was wrong, but then he laughed. I remember that laugh."

"He's one of Jin Ling's tutors," Jiang Cheng said. "Are you telling me that Jin Guangyao has appointed a demonic cultivator as one of my nephew's tutors?" He was going to kill every last Jin in Lanling. Except Jin Ling.

"I'm telling you that a saint with as much spiritual power as Koumyou, but who prefers dark to light, is pretending to be a layman and has inserted himself into the Jin court. Where's his disciple got to? Maybe he used him up and what's left of the kid is down in the mud. And now he's one of Jin Ling's teachers - maybe he has decided to take Jin Ling as a disciple. You should ask yourself why Jin Guangyao put someone like that with your nephew."

Jiang Cheng staggered. Jiang Liu put a hand out and supported him. His hand was warm and steady, holding him upright.

"You can call me Uncle," Jiang Cheng said.