Work Text:
Hu Fai jogged along the labyrinthine boardwalks, silently cursing and calculating the odds that Jiang-zongzhu would make him swim laps for being late for advanced sword class. Throwing a quick glance around to confirm no one was there, he applied a quick burst of spiritual energy to boost his legs, enabling him to jump across the crisscrossing pathways instead of running zig-zag through them. Zongzhu had forbidden the move unless it was a somebody's-dying-level emergency, because, as he put it, “otherwise I’m going to be dealing with people constantly flying from every direction, smacking into each other, knocking themselves unconscious, and having to be fished out of the lotus ponds.”
Hu Fai’s current predicament was very definitely NOT a somebody's-dying-level emergency, so he used another application of spiritual energy to make his landing noiseless– a move Zongzhu had taught them during the Sunshot Campaign. He executed the move perfectly, and couldn’t help preening a bit as he continued, despite knowing that he’d probably be pretty harshly punished if he was caught. Since Jiang-guniang’s marriage, Zongzhu had had even fewer people to help him manage their steadily growing sect, and his short temper had grown even shorter, despite his excitement at Jiang-guniang’s pregnancy.
Aware of all those variables, Hu Fai was keeping his steps as silent as possible… which was probably why he’d seen the golden messenger butterfly at all.
He was passing by an old storeroom when the sparkle caught his eye. Coming to a sudden but silent halt, Hu Fai peered inside the small room and saw Yan Rong quietly dictating to the communication talisman from a small set of notes.
Their previous sect leader, Jiang Fengmian, had always taught the disciples to trust their instincts. Instinct, he used to say, was the wisdom of the body without the mind; the knowledge that your senses gathered and evaluated before your consciousness was even aware of it. The battlefield had proven this statement time and time again for Hu Fai, and so he didn’t even think as he lunged inside and snatched the papers from the other disciple’s hand.
Yan Rong yelped and tried to take them back, but Hu Fai was stronger and more experienced. His face darkened further as he read the notes, and his burning glare caused the younger man to shrink back. Unable to speak from the rage choking his throat, Hu Fai grabbed Yan Rong, locked his arm, and dragged him to the training field, throwing him down in the center of the small group of gathered students.
Zongzhu hadn’t arrived yet, but Jiang Zhang was there. He was one of the oldest-ranking Jiang to survive the massacre, and he frowned at his two silent shidis, one shaking with fear, the other with fury. “What going–”
Hu Fai thrust the notes into his shixiong’s face, not taking his glare off of Yan Rong. “He was holding a Jin messenger butterfly!”
Wang Cao snorted, and started practicing sword forms again. “Awww, does shidi have a little sweetheart in Lanling?” he crooned.
Hu Fai spun around to yell, but Jiang Zhang’s soft voice cut stopped him short. “Western fortifications are being rebuilt; current estimate is two months before completion. The lotus harvest was leaner than usual; winter rationing expected. Ongoing fever epidemic in the southernmost villages, affecting Baling as well. Financial officer Liu’s mother is gravely ill– bribery opportunity?”
By the time he finished reading, the training field was completely silent; even the omnipresent breeze from the lakes was still. The gathered disciples stared in dawning comprehension, reactions ranging from horror to…
“YOU’RE A FUCKING SPY?” Wang Cao bellowed, his previous good humor nowhere to be seen as he stalked towards the cowering Yan Rong and grabbed him by the collar. The older man’s face was bright red with utter rage as he shook Yan Rong like a rag doll. “HOW COULD YOU DO THAT?! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO US?” he all but shrieked.
“I had no choice!” Yan Rong choked. “They were going to–”
“This is our home!” he bellowed over him. “This is where we are supposed to be safe!” Unable to contain himself, Wang Cao shoved Yan Rong back to the ground and started kicking. “Have you ever lost a home before?! Ever had enemies slaughter your loved ones?!”
Hu Fai was torn between pulling Wang Cao away and joining him, and the faces of the other disciples showed the same struggle. Hu Fai made an aborted attempt to step forward when a low voice sliced through the noise like Zidian through a ward. “Enough. Stand down.”
A shiver ran through Hu Fai, equal parts dread and relief. His eyes tracked towards the deadly and powerful figure of Jiang Cheng making his way towards them. Jiang-zongzhu’s gaze never strayed from Yan Rong until Jiang Zhang placed the set of notes into Zongzhu’s outstretched and expectant hand.
Yan Rong scrambled to his knees, simultaneously kowtowing and crawling towards his sect leader as his excuses poured from his mouth. “Zongzhu! I didn’t want to! They forced me! My sister accompanied Jiang-guniang to Koi Tower, and she wrote to me that she’d be thrown in the dungeon if–”
Zidian gave a sudden, violent crackle. Yan Rong flinched back from the weapon, but almost melted into the hardpacked earth when Sandu Shengshou’s gaze fell upon him once more. Hu Fai was a jumble of emotions as he saw that look; he knew it from the war, and knew it did not bode well. Zongzhu might be known for his loud temper, but those who were with him as he gathered survivors and rogues into an army hell-bent on revenge knew that Jiang Cheng was most dangerous when in the throes of quiet, focused rage.
On the other hand, there were also other facets to his expression that Hu Fai knew equally well from those very same post-massacre days. It was the rabid, almost fanatical determination to keep his remaining people safe. It was the look that inspired loyalty and devotion in scores of misfits and traumatized disciples, the look that convinced them to follow their leader onto the battlefield or into rebuilding efforts. It was the look that meant that Zongzhu would keep them safe no matter the cost, that he would never let their home be destroyed again.
He spoke into the deafening silence, his voice as icy and soft as snow. “If you were in trouble, you should have brought the matter to me. You swore oaths; you are one of my people. Had you brought these threats made against you to me, your sister might have been saved and your honor maintained. Now, you will both die… or in her case, she will wish for the mercy of death.”
Yan Rong cried out, but Zongzhu turned his back on him and addressed Jiang Zhang. “Assemble everyone into the main courtyard, disciples and servants. Bring a few representatives from Yunmeng Port as well, then bar the gates.” His eyes flashed. “Quickly.”
The senior disciple bolted from the sword field, and Zongzhu turned his attention to those remaining. “Three of you search his quarters; the rest of you will bring him to the main courtyard in one shí.” He made to leave, then stopped briefly to clarify. “Alive.”
His tone brooked no argument. Surly but obedient acknowledgment was given, and Zongzhu strode from the field.
On shí later, the main courtyard of Lotus Pier was filled to bursting. The atmosphere was one of nervous curiosity, murmured gossip filling the air like cicada buzzing.
Hu Fai did his best to keep his face expressionless. He and two of the other disciples had searched both Yan Rong’s quarters and the small storeroom, but they’d only found the initial letter from Yan Mei; all other incriminating evidence must have been destroyed.
A ripple passed through the crowd as Jiang-zongzhu emerged from the Swords Hall. Hu Fai was already standing at attention, but as always, Zongzhu’s presence always seemed to have a sharpening effect on Hu Fai’s own awareness, like the bite of ozone in the air before a storm. Zongzhu’s eyes narrowed on the crowd. “Attention!” he snapped.
Guiltily, the disciples formed orderly rows organized by rank and the servants arranged themselves into the same formation they used during evacuation drills. The handful of representatives from Yunmeng Port stood along the back wall, near the closed and bolted main gate. Jiang-zongzhu eyed the crowd critically, his expression unimpressed. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder, and jerked his head.
Scuffling sounds echoed from the Swords Hall and four disciples dragged Yan Rong out into the open courtyard in front of the sect leader. He was bound and gagged, and rather the worse for wear; the state of Wang Cao’s knuckles indicating that the letter rather than the spirit of their leader’s orders had been obeyed.
A hush fell over the assembled. “This man, fifth disciple Yan Rong, was found sending a message via Jin butterfly talisman. This,” Zongzhu held up the set of notes, “was the message he was communicating.”
In an iron voice, he read the note. A steady sense of outrage and horror increased among the crowd, with more than a few murderous looks straying to Yan Rong. When Zongzhu read the word “bribery”, Liu Longfei actually let out a roar of wrath and launched himself at the traitor. Zongzhu snapped his fingers and Jiang Zhang and Yu Tingpei gently but firmly pulled the enraged man away, ushering him into the Swords Hall, where Hu Fai could hear the financial officer’s broken snarls about how his twin brother had been killed because the Jin backup battalion had been late to the battle, and how his mother’s health had never recovered because of it.
The sound of Liu Longfei’s voice faded as he was guided deeper into the building. Jiang-zongzhu turned back to the crowd, and their attention refocused on him. “A senior disciple witnessed Yan Rong with the messenger butterfly, and took these notes from his hand. Yan Rong confessed his crimes to me even as he sought to justify them. This also took place in front of witnesses.”
His electrifying gaze pierced the broken man lying in front of him. “Yan Rong. For the crime of treason against your sect, for your actions that have endangered Yunmeng Jiang and its dependents, you are sentenced to death.”
Jiang Cheng unsheathed Sandu in one smooth motion, and strode down the steps with purpose. Yan Rong sobbed and whimpered and pleaded beneath the gag, only to freeze as the gleaming sword was thrust into his heart. Yan Rong twitched on the blade once or twice, but Jiang Cheng was not finished. He pulled Sandu free and swung it in a tight arc, neatly severing Yan Rong’s head before his body could collapse to the ground.
The brutal swiftness of the execution left them all strangely breathless. Hu Fai turned his glassy gaze to his leader, who wiped his sword clean on the corpse’s robes. Sheathing the weapon, Jiang Cheng once more addressed the assembly. “I will not tolerate spies. However, I also do not wish Lotus Pier to be overrun with suspicion and paranoia. Therefore, I am presenting everyone with a singular opportunity. If there are any spies standing before me, present yourself to me, confess your treason freely and openly now, and I will allow you to leave with your life. Servants may leave unmolested, with only the clothes on their backs. Disciples will receive one strike with…” Zongzhu paused, swallowing hard before continuing in a slightly rougher voice. “…with the discipline whip. This will be done so that, should you be sent to spy on any other sect as a disciple, others will see and wonder and suspect your character.”
Hu Fai’s hands contracted into fists. It was an open secret among the oldest disciples that the Wen had tortured Zongzhu with the Jiang sect’s own discipline whip, and Hu Fai felt a fresh wave of hatred rise up inside him at any potential traitor that would force Zongzhu to so much as look upon that thing again. Zongzhu, who had bled and sacrificed so much for them already. Yet, even as Hu Fai’s anger grew, Zongzhu’s voice steadied. “You have two shí to present yourself to me. No one will leave this courtyard in the meantime. The gates are locked and sealed; should anyone try to flee, they will be caught and brought to me.”
Zongzhu’s eyes narrowed. “This is your only warning. Any spy who do not confess at this moment, I swear on the slain of Lotus Pier, on the bodies of my honored parents, WILL be found out, and they will be slaughtered with extreme prejudice in the manner dictated by the residents of Lotus Pier. Your ashes will be fed to the pigs, and your ancestors cursed.”
He let that sink in for a moment, then thrust his chin proudly in the air. “It is the nature of politics and the custom of government to employ spies. No doubt when word of this spreads, other clans will call us unfair, say that Yunmeng Jiang is not playing by the unspoken rules of power. To this, I respond: I, and those here surrounding me, have endured unimaginable loss. We have seen the lands of our fathers burned, the houses of our childhoods ransacked, the blood of our kin spilled in brutal slaughter. We have crawled through the mud to survive and build a new home from the ashes. Our numbers have grown with the desperate and forsaken, those left with nothing and no one to comfort them. We have forged a place of shelter and safety with the sweat of our bodies, with blood and qi spent to strengthen these walls and shore up the foundations.
“I have lost my family, my home, my people, and my land once.” Purple lightning arced up his arm as he snarled his fury and determination. “I WILL NOT ALLOW ANYTHING TO THREATEN THEM AGAIN!”
His words, and that same look that had been in his eyes before, raced like a fire through Hu Fai and left his insides strong and steady and unyielding as fired clay. He stood a little straighter, felt his face set into firmer lines, and prepared to wait out the next two shí. From Zongzhu’s other side, he caught Wang Cao’s eye, and saw the same expression that Hu Fai felt in his own heart, the same expression mirrored on the faces of scores of disciples and servants.
With a grim sense of satisfaction, Hu Fai knew that any spies discovered after today could count themselves lucky to even make it to Jiang-zongzhu. And those accounts would spread throughout the Jianghu, letting everyone know that Lotus Pier would protect her own against anyone who threatened.
He felt a snarl curl the edge of his lips. We'll teach them all– never cross the Jiang clan!
