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Xichen is gathering water from the outside well when a flurry of noise pierces the relative silence. A disheveled figure clambers over the walls and falls into the inner courtyard in a mess of fabric. The bucket he holds slips from his hands and clatters to the ground, spilling water everywhere.
The figure looks up. Hair, tied back, is loose, with strands falling from a silver lotus headpiece. Their sharp face is streaked with grime and blood, fine brocade under leather armor torn and slashed, dark with blood. Xichen freezes under the gaze of pale blue eyes.
"Please help me." The person says, sword swinging at their hip as they try to get to their feet, only to stumble. Bloodied fingers scrabble into their robes and pulls out a coin purse. "I can pay you-"
When he cautiously steps forward, they collapse, eyes rolling back.
Once Xichen finally hefts them back into his room, his silk robes, owned by the brothel, are stained red with blood. His thoughts run wild - how did they get so injured? What happened to them? Who are they running from?
He lays them on the floor of his room and sets to work, stripping them of their clothes, setting aside their sword and cleaning away the blood - only to finally pull open their innermost clothes, an expensive lilac - as expected of a noble - soaked crimson, and to wince at the large gash across their chest, not to mention-
Round and full breasts. The mystery warrior is female, and Xichen blushes faintly.
Despite being a courtesan, with regular female clients, this girl looks so young with her pale face and high cheekbones, stripped by him instead of her robe seductively slipping down her shoulders. He tries not to think about how the unconscious girl lying on the floor of his room reminds him of the other girls in the brothel. Some are even younger than her, and he feels oily and dirty himself, like one of the more unpleasant male clients. Xichen tells himself it's in order to save her life.
Thankfully, he has some medical knowledge. He wipes the blood off her body and cleans her skin, wrapping her wounds with fresh, clean bandages he gets from the brothel's healer, given the prominence of this house of flowers. He only has his own masculine robes, but dresses her in them anyway, piling her luxurious, if torn and stained, brocade robes in another wooden bucket normally reserved for laundry, before placing her on his bed to rest. Her breathing has stabilized and evened out, which is a good sign.
Jiang Cheng wakes up in an unfamiliar room, in unfamiliar clothes. Her hair falls along the sides of her face when she sits up, a dull ache in her chest. The place is odd. She last remembers climbing over a wall to escape enemy pursuers, falling into a shabby and bare courtyard clearly meant to be hidden away, and begged for help from an ethereal looking young man - before losing consciousness.
She is lying on a soft bed of dark wood and gauze hanging from the frame - the interior ostentatious yet cheap, gilt on ornaments flaking off to indicate only a gold-coloured layer coveringn coarse wood rather than actual gold itself. The silk she is wearing, for some reason, was very comfortable - but rougher than normal silk, a low-grade, inexpensive material.
"You're awake." A lilting voice comes and she turned her head to see the young man.
At his beautiful, jade-like features, flawless skin, and loosely tied robes revealing his toned chest, she blushes slightly and turns to properly face him in a salute.
"Many thanks for aiding me, Young Master-?"
Surprise crosses his face. Young Master? This noble girl - clearly a Young Mistress, from her silver headpiece, expensive robes, coin pouch full of money - thought he was her equal?
"My name is Lan Xichen, guniang." He murmurs, and she curtsies - manners perfect for a gentlewoman.
Even with her hair down and his own robes loose and oversized on her frame, she looks nothing like a courtesan with her posture and poise. "Young Master Lan." She says , eyes wide and innocent, full of sincerity. Doesn't she realise who he is?
"May I have your name?" He asked, and she opened her mouth only to close it, frowning.
"My name is... ...Yu Zilian."
From her hesitation, it was clearly a false name, but he understood secrets. "Yu-guniang." Xichen acknowledges, still familiar with gentry manners.
"Where am I?" She asks, head turning around to scrutinize her surroundings. "Are these your personal quarters, Lan-gongzi?"
"This is my room," Xichen states, watching her curiously. She truly does not seem aware of where she is. Considering her youth, he wonders if she is even aware of the existence of a brothel, if her privileged unbringing has shielded her from the realities of the world.
She eyes him oddly, but then asks for her belongings, which he shows her - the bloodstained, violet sword, layers of her clothing and leather armor, a silver bell with lilac tassel. Her clothes have been washed and dried, and are wearable, if torn.
She holds them up, frowning. "Guess I should have practised sewing more, after all." She mutters to herself. Reaching for her coin purse, she looks at him meaningfully - "I am in your debt, Lan-gongzi. If you would permit me, I will compensate you for your efforts."
His eyes go wide at the silver and gold taels kept within the coin purse. She pauses for a moment, wondering - if he was a Young Master, would he be offended if she offered him money outright? Would it be more polite to buy him a gift?
"I can buy you something valuable with my current funds." She offers, and Xichen isn't quite sure what to do - wanting to insist on the money, which he could use to buy his freedom, and she had been an extremely proper and polite gentlemaiden, but would she turn her back on him once she knew what he was?
He does not get the chance to answer. Loud footsteps soon sound, and he instinctively shoves her coin purse back towards her chest to hide it - many snakes with the pretty faces of courtesans lie in wait to steal from their counterparts, and he has learned the hard way to guard his money carefully.
The door bursts open to reveal another courtesan - hair pinned in flowing loops, clothes sheer, face painted and perfume cloying, her decolletage and cleavage on display. "We have clients, little gentian - who's this?"
Xichen has instinctively gathered Maiden Yu into his arms, embracing her as if she is a lover and pressing her face into his neck to hide her shocked expression. "One of my other clients, of course." He says, affecting his usual sultry tone.
Die-er, butterfly, the courtesan, narrows her eyes.
"Oh, really? Haven't seen her before." She says. "When did she come in?"
"When you were off flitting about with other men, of course." Xichen says, stroking the maiden's hair and hoping she plays along.
Thankfully, the maiden in his arms turns to look at Die-er and says, "Do I have to care about what a whore like you thinks?" The contempt in her voice is such a sharp contrast to the guileless sincerity he has just heard the maiden speak with that it nearly makes him startle, her words stunning the other courtesan into submission.
"O-Of course, madam." Die-er sketches an apologetic curtsey, before turning to leave.
Xichen releases her. "I apologize-" He swallows thickly. The loathing in her voice - now that she knew what he was, where this was- would she-
"This is a brothel, isn't it?" Maiden Yu suddenly says aloud, and he nearly winces.
"Yes." He replied, letting his words hang in the air as he looks directly at her.
Her eyes were wide, cheeks flushed as she shrinsk slightly, self-consciously, pulling her coin purse out of her robes - between her breasts, where she had instinctively shoved it into her cleavage in her panic.
Jiang Cheng has never been touched like that before, least of all by a man. And he - the beautiful, stunning and kind young man - isn't a Young Master at all, is he? That explained the opulent yet tacky and cheap interior of the room.
"Thank you." She said instead, "You saved me again."
His brown eyes are peerless, softening with kindness and what looked like - relief? "You saved yourself." He said, "Your role was played perfectly. Have you-" He wonders, despite how unlikely it is, "-had courtesans before?"
A blink, then she flushes a deep red. "N-No!" She cries out, flustered and gripping her own arm closer to herself. "I've never - I have not-"
A white lotus, a pure maiden. "I see." He smiles playfully, which only makes her scowl in embarrassment. "Would you like to?"
Her face, impossibly, goes even redder. "Y-You! Be quiet!" She snaps, as he laughs. "Besides, I can't stay here long. I have to go." Her tone is suddenly somber, and he goes silent.
Opening her purse, she pulls out several gold taels - his eyes widen - and gives them to him. "Thank you, again, Lan Xichen."
"Mistress Yu is too kind." He murmurs. With this money, he could be free.
As she rummages through her possessions, his expression turns playful and seductive once again. "This one is now paid for, does the Mistress want to sample the merchandise?" He offers, wondering if her face would twist into that same embarrassed red, or if she would look completely different, overtaken in a virgin's first pleasure, but she batted him away when he drew nearer, a wide-eyed shock on her face.
"I-If you try anything, I can and will fight you!" She threatens, gripping the hilt of her sword she has strapped once again to her hip, and he backs away with an uneasy laugh.
"This one would never dare, Mistress, please forgive this lowly one."
Even if her possessions are once again readied, Jiang Cheng knows she cannot yet leave. The deep cut on her chest pulls painfully with every movement, and she is slow and sluggish even while walking around Xichen's quarters.
She is in no condition to rejoin the fight, as anxious as she is about the conflict that YunMeng Jiang was now embroiled in - and leaving before she is fully healed would only get her killed.
She entreats Lan Xichen to allow her to hide in his room for a while longer, away from even the eyes of other courtesans. Having been chased here, she is certain that the enemy continues to linger around this Yunping brothel.
"I could give you more money, if you want-" She speaks, digging up her coin purse, but he merely pushes her hand away with gentleness.
"Mistress has paid this one enough already." He says, which surprise her. For her to see generosity and a refusal to accept payment as odd in a courtesan - a prostitute, who sold their body for gold, is expected to never turn down more money, but Xichen has so kindly nursed her back to health, and she'd only questioned his motives after finding out he was a courtesan-
She blushes in embarrassment and self-crimination. As distant as he is, A-Die has always reproached her for being judgmental, a quality of her noble A-Niang's that he loathes to see in her. A-Die is calm and placid, and his cold disappointment always hurt worse than Niang's explosive anger. Xichen is a courtesan who had saved her life, even before she paid him. He is selfless and good-hearted, that is mere fact.
"Nonetheless, I would appreciate it if you could procure these herbs and dishes," She says, borrowing his ink and paper to write him a list and placing a silver tael in compensation. She needs to heal and nourish herself if is was to rejoin the fight for her clan, and he immediately nodded and obeyed. Courtesan or not, he is also a gentleman, allowing her to sleep on his bed. The bed was certainly large enough, the size necessary for his profession - she blushes again - and they could very well both have slept on it, yet he takes the divan out of respect for her. She does not know why this makes her heart beat quicker.
"Do you....not have....clients?" She asks him gruffly and timidly, eyes glued to the floor, but he merely replies, "I have told them that I am feeling unwell, and am unable to currently work. The Madam of this house of flowers collects part of our fee that clients pay, and so I have been paying her her cut for these few days."
"Oh." She suddenly feels guilty. "I'm sorry-"
"There is no need, Mistress." His tone is sweet, "You have given me enough."
Yet the talk of clients is speaking a curse to life, when a huge racket suddenly sounds from outside. Xichen tenses, telling her to stay while he steps outside to check - and quickly darts back in, his wide eyes informing her to hide.
"Qishan Wen soldiers." He warns, "They might employ my services,"
She throws a quick look around the gauze-and-perfumed room for a suitable place to hide before finally creeping under his bed to conceal her in the space beneath. It is a tight fit, barely a hand's width between the tip of her nose to the base of the bed, but she manages to wedge herself in as far as possible. The sheets spilling over the edge of the bed cover the gap created by the bed's legs, and she lies on the floor in darkness, trying to regulate her harsh-sounding breathing.
Minutes slip by until the door to Xichen's quarters swing open, the hubbub from outside immediately blaring as she hears a man's loud, coarse laughter mixed in with Xichen's soft, gentle tittering, and heavy footsteps thudding across the floor. She can feel the vibrations.
The bedframe creaks, and she can see the dark shape of a pair of legs shadowed against the cloth that covers the legs of the bed. Clothing rustles undone. An audible intake of breath. A squelch, then another, soon a series of wet, slapping noises, punctured by harsh panting.
"Fuck, that's good." The deep, harsh voice of the soldier comes, and Jiang Cheng's cheeks flame red, imagination going wild as the noises continue, accompanied with pig-like grunting, "you're so good at sucking cock." Her eyes widen.
"Faster," The man commands, and then choking noises fill the air - Jiang Cheng instinctively tenses, hands curling into fists, because that was Xichen choking with a whine of pain as the bedframe suddenly rise again, the gagging sounds muffled and squelching muted.
Thin, high-pitched sounds of discomfort reach her ears until they finally die down. "Finally, whore. Can't even take a little speed? I knew I should have gotten a woman, filthy cutsleeve slut."
"Swallow." comes the growl. Groans fill the room - the sound of two voices, the man and Xichen, who sounds like he is about to throw up, until she hears his sounds replaced by loud and deep gasping breaths.
"Get on the bed." The soldier orders, and Jiang Cheng has to will herself completely still as her eyes dart about disbelievingly.
The man told Xichen to - why would he want a mouth at his - speaking of, how did men even- "This one apologizes for his mistakes," Xichen's hoarse voice comes, and Jiang Cheng bites back the urge to scream. The bedframe sags as he climbs on top and-oh god-they were going to-
The man sneers. "Why don't you make it up to me, slut?" A muffled slap, and more clothes were being undone - Jiang Cheng thinks about the dark blue and white silk Xichen wore, robes surely slipping off his broad shoulders and exposing more of that pale chest- her face heats-
"What's this?" The soldier mocks, and then there is more squelching, and a wet pop - "Look at you, all wet and gaping. You really are a cock-hungry slut, aren't you?"
"This one is always ready to serve." Xichen's voice is especially faint.
A shifting of sheets, then a punched-out gasp. "Master-" Xichen begins, before his voice falls away into a trembling whimper. "So tight." The soldier sounds like his teeth are gritted "Even tighter than a woman." She can hear the grin in his voice.
A rhythm of wet, slapping sounds and harsh breathing, the soldier panting like a dog. Then a pained whimper, and a shocked moan. "That's more like it." The soldier says, as Xichen starts to moan in earnest. "You're hard, don't try and pretend you don't love this, cutsleeve whore."
The bedframe shakes in tandem to their activities, and Jiang Cheng clamps her hands over her mouth, cheeks burning as she fights to stay still amidst her mortification, her mind conjuring all sorts of images. Is Xichen on his back - or kneeling on all fours, like the images from the yellow books? Feeling hot all over horrified and confused her, his sounds were shameless and lascivious, yet a few noises were clearly accompanied with clenched teeth, and she can hear pain coming from him now and then.
Lying beneath the bed, all she can do was fervently pray for it to be over, hot shame and mortification coursing through her veins, feeling deep sympathy at what her friend is enduring from his cries and the client's humiliating, hurtful words. Men are cruel, Niang had told her, and Jiang Cheng only understood now. Finally, the bedframe creaks once again to signal the soldier stepping away from Xichen. Jiang Cheng opens her previously closed eyes and listens to the soldier's parting sneers, then finally his retreating footsteps.
With silence overtaking the room once more, save for Xichen's ragged, exhausted breathing, unease curls in her stomach. It should be safe now, but she continues to lie there, murmuring loud enough to be heard.
"Xichen, a-are you alright?"
The sheets shifts once again, and there is a pause before he replies- "Please give me a moment, Mistress," his voice small and tired.
The title makes shame twist in her heart, remembering how he called the soldier "Master". It is surely how he addressed female clients, and she feels dirty being referred to the same way as that cruel man whom Xichen had just suffered.
"Y-You can just call me Ji- I mean, Yu-guniang." She stammers, remembering her false name in time. "Just...let me know when I can come out, alright?"
She slides herself out at his signal, standing up and smoothing her crumpled robes - his crumpled robes, really - she had been wearing his courtesan's clothes while she healed and stayed in his quarters, since she didn't have any other clothes on her.
He has stripped the bed of its original sheet, which lies heaped in another bucket, and is dressed in a different robe from the one he previously wore, hands folded together and shoulders slightly hunched. It pains her to see him like that - yet her cheeks flush once she looks at his face again, remembering all the sounds she heard, the way he moaned while the other man was - was touching him, and-
Her eyes drop away from his face, landing on his wrists, where fresh bruises were blooming, and her eyes widen, before quickly averting her gaze entirely. Face still feeling like it is constantly on fire, throat dry, she swallows, wondering what to say.
Xichen finds the maiden unable to look him in the eye, cheeks burning red with what has to be shame and disgust, and feels his heart lurch.
After all, she is now exposed to the reality of his profession, exposed to hearing the vile things clients say to him, the way he moans - even after he has tried so hard to restrain his noises to no avail - even without watching, she has surely seen enough.
"Yu-guniang-" He begins, only for his expression to fall when she suddenly hurries away. As expected, she is revolted by him now, an ache building in his chest. Even if she hates him - she'd given him so much money, gold and silver, so he should be nothing but grateful.
Silk rustles as she abruptly returns, and, less than an arm's length away, holds out her hand where a small tin stands.
"You, um, you have some bruises on your wrists -" She stammers, pale blue eyes flicking away and cheeks colouring when he looks at her in surprise, "t-this salve will help, won't it? I-I checked your medical supplies-"
She is a white lotus, such an experience must have deeply shaken her. She still couldn't look at him, but a faint hope starts to bloom in his heart when he takes the salve from her with a smile and thanks.
"I-It's wrong-!" She blurts out, and his eyes are wide, "-what that man said about you! He's a vile, disgusting pig, and not just because he's a Wen soldier!" She grows bolder in her anger, righteousness burning in her eyes, and Xichen cannot help but be charmed by the sweet Princess's clumsy attempts to make him feel better.
"It's alright," He assures, "I'm used to it."
"That doesn't make it better!" She splutters, hands curled into fists. "You - You're really kind, and selfless, you're helping me, just because you're a courtesan doesn't mean they can treat you like that!" He stares as she asks, "D-Do you have to keep staying here?" and at that he only smiles, because she has already secured his freedom.
"Please don't worry about it, Yu-guniang." He says, stepping forward to press a chaste kiss to her forehead.
He knows she can't stay. Her weapon and armour speak of something much larger than the cloistered world of the perfume, silk and sex of the courtesan house, and this warrior maiden was purity and innocence who sat on a satin embroidered pillow with ramrod posture and pulled her brocade robes to herself, asking if he had any sewing needles and thread she could borrow.
After buying his freedom, how can he deny her anything? "Let me, mistress." He says smoothly, taking the garments from her and setting himself the task to repairing them on his own.
"There's no need to trouble yourself," She insists, "I have to leave quickly-"
"Then I will be swift," He says, weaving the needle and thread in and out of the tears to close them as quickly as he can with his standard of care.
From the deep purple robes and the lotus crown in her hair, he has an inkling as to who she might be - at least, he knows the name of her clan. She has stayed several days in his room until she no longer winced as she moved, and she no longer has need of bandages. It only strikes him that she will be gone from him the moment her clothes are repaired, when he is starting on the final garment, the sky outside his window now a deep blue and the candles burning low.
Once again dressed in her martial finery - formidable violet and silver as she is meant to look unlike the bloodied mess she was when she toppled into the brothel courtyard - he ispossessed to grab her hand.
"Jiang-guniang," He says, and she freezes- even Xichen, a lowly courtesan, knew the purple that distinguished the Great Clan of YunMeng Jiang, "Won't you tell me your real name to remember you by?"
Her shocked expression eventually melts into softness.
"My name is Jiang Wanyin." She says, and his heart nearly shudders to a stop in his chest, to know that he has touched and embraced the Second Jiang Princess. Her hand curls tighter around his and he is compelled to raise her knuckles to his lips to kiss, as if she really was his Master he is swearing fealty to - and he cannot imagine anything better.
She rummages through her possessions once again, and suddenly hands him her priceless bell, crafted out of pure silver. "F-For you." Her cheeks colour, and his heart lifts with joy.
"Jiang-gongzhu, please be safe." He whispers in a prayer, and her brows slant, before drawing together in determination.
"I will, Lan Xichen." She gives him one last smile before climbing out of the wide open window, onto the roof, and leaves.
War breaks out, as her presence heralds. While Xichen yearns to be free, it is far too dangerous to venture out of the pleasure house. Better to endure, pinned beneath bodies, for the conflict to end, than risk his life on the open battlefields.
After all, he has someone to live for, and each day he prays for her safety. He rejoices at the news that YunMeng Jiang has won the war against the enemy clan Qishan Wen, and immediately secures his own freedom with the money she has given him all that time ago.
With the destruction that a war has wrought, the news of Lotus Pier's rebuilding soon reaches his ears. Free, yet without employment, he naturally heads there with the remainder of his funds. Even if his life had been spent in luxurious rooms, playing music, drinking with clients, and eventually being brought to bed, his skin soft and unblemished, he will suffer all the cuts and the calluses needed in order to help his mistress rebuild her home.
In coarse, simple blue clothes, he approaches Lotus Pier - large and sprawling in the middle of a lake, as was its namesake, taking orders from the work supervisor there handling new labourers. The place is bustling with activity and reconstruction, full of energy and life.
Work is hard and gruelling on his body unused to exertion, but all that matters is that he is free.
He keeps her silver bell in his sleeves at all times - and when he finally gets to see her again - elegant, resplendent and beautiful in sweeping robes that befit her station, no longer the hardy dress of battle, but long and billowing and luxurious as a Queen that stole his breath away.
When he called out "Jiang Wanyin-" and pulls out the bell for it to ring crisply, she turns in indigation that melts away into surprise and affection to see him, everything- the outraged glares of her retinue that a lowly labourer dare address her so casually, the noise of construction - fall away, with only the two of them at that moment, Jiang Wanyin, Queen of YunMeng Jiang, smiles brilliantly and speaks melodically- "Lan Xichen."