Chapter Text
Good tidings! The Wen dogs have been subjugated, their tyrannies are no more! Rejoice! Let history behold the heroes of the Sunshot Campaign!
For three months the world celebrated their liberation from the horrors wreaked upon them by members of the Wen Sect. Flags were flown proudly on the streets, loots from the Wen Sect armory were returned or redistributed, and political prisoners were freed once more. It was three months of peace, quiet, and general good-feelings.
But three months were too short of a time by Jiang Cheng’s reckonings before new forces were at play and fighting over the power vacuum left behind by the Wens. The Jin Sect stepped in, comfortably filling the niche of the leading sect and Chief Cultivator without so much as a polite excuse me.
Three months were too short for the tremendous tasks of rebuilding a sect from bare bones and to make new (read: potentially dangerous and exploitative) allegiances that may or may not cost him further down the line. Notably, Jiang Cheng found himself in an awkward position to support the Jin Sect despite his contempt for their power-hungry moves. Their leader, Jin Guangshan, was not known so much for his leadership as his lecherous tendencies and one-night flings.
If Jiang Cheng recalled correctly, the man was also not too upfront about disposing of the Wen Sect during the Sunshot Campaign. He sure was very upfront about claiming power, however, post-Wen rule.
But Jiang Cheng was figuratively hand-tied by said sect because of their in-law relationship. More importantly, he was desperately in need of money to rebuild his sect and the Jin Sect had an abundance of them. As the old saying goes, beggars can’t be choosers.
And as if recruiting loyal disciples and rebuilding the sect were not hard enough, fate decided to throw in another curveball. Something about being robbed of his core must have changed the underlying workings of his body, because it wasn’t too long before Jiang Cheng presented his second gender (sometime in the future he wondered if possessing his ex-shixiong’s core might have messed with his presentation).
Before the signs were apparent, everyone assumed that Jiang Cheng would follow after his father and sister as a heyi. Nothing particularly special, a perfect embodiment of Jiang Cheng’s standing in life. Truth be told, Jiang Cheng’s low self-esteem was fine with this, screaming that it was only right that he became a nobody, especially compared to his ex-shixiong.
Secretly, a wishful part of him thought that maybe, just maybe, by some rare, fantastic twist of fate (or irony) he would follow after his mother and become a tianqian, the epitome of strength and leadership.
But fate made a laughingstock out of him.
When the first signs of wetness slipped, Jiang Cheng felt his own world reeling – figuratively and literally – as he braced himself against waves and waves of weakness and heat. His body was burning, his vision blurry, his mind spinning like the floor had been yanked from underneath him.
If there was one thing that the young man came to learn to hate as much as the Wen dogs, it was his lack of control over his own body. Because to be worse than a nobody was to be a kunze – soft, weak beings requiring the protection of tianqians and heyis, oftentimes regarded as nothing more than a reproductive tool.
The first time was a nightmare.
The young sect leader sealed himself in his room with talismans so powerful that it would burn anyone within a distance of three meters. He commanded Zidian to tie him up and forced himself to ride through the pain of feeling his internal organs rearranging themselves to accommodate new structures. Pain so intense that it was akin to getting his core melted all over again and he passed out of consciousness multiple times during the entire ordeal.
Sometimes a kunze simply never make it through their transition. That was what made them so rare, especially male kunzes who have to literally grow new organs inside of themselves.
But Jiang Cheng came a long way from being just a helpless teenager and he was not going to let himself be defeated by a mere physiological rearrangement.
Once presented, it took some time for him to adapt to his new body.
Every three months, Jiang Cheng’s spiritual energy would recede and he would be reduced to a pathetic mess of carnal desires, longing desperately for another being to complete him. The subsequent heats were milder compared to the first one. But what made them unbearable were the nightmares, fragments of memories horribly contorted and exaggerated in his dreams. All these nightmares feature a hand reaching out towards his abdomen, sinking in, deeper and deeper, before pulling back sharply and ripping out a golden core.
His golden core.
Sometimes the hand belonged to Wen Qing, other times to Wei Wuxian, but more often than not it belonged to the Core-Melting Hand and his despicable master. Their sneers and laughter filled his heat-induced nightmares.
The torture lasted for seven long days, leaving him severely drained – emotionally and physically – by the end of it, only to repeat again three months later.
Mercifully, there were too many chaos at that time for people to notice anything out of the ordinary with the Jiang Sect Leader. People were discussing the betrayal of the Yiling Patriarch and the Wen remnants. In a way, Jiang Cheng should thank his ex-shixiong for drawing the attention away from him.
Also mercifully, Jiang Yanli found an archaic herb recipe for suppressing his kunze characteristics. This was another side benefit of being related to the wealthy Jins. His sister was able to access more resources than before.
Conveniently, the recipe – when combined in a certain ratio – could also be used for treating muscle cramps and headaches, providing the perfect cover-up for Jiang Cheng. People readily bought into the story that the young sect leader’s body succumbed to pains and cramps due to pulling constant all-nighters (which, to a certain extent, was and still is, true).
But as the old saying goes, herbal concoctions are seven-parts medicine and three-parts poison. The two siblings knew that the recipe was but a temporary reprieve. Ironically, the herbs responsible for curing pains and headaches will introduce the same symptoms gradually overtime. Moreover, Jiang Cheng will gradually become reliant on the medicine and woe to the day when he decides to stop treatment or when his body becomes tolerant of the medicine.
“A-Cheng…” Jiang Yanli watched in anxiety as her younger brother finished another bowl of medicine. They had already doubled the dosage since Jiang Cheng first started suppressing his second gender.
“I’m fine, a-jie, I know what I’m doing,” Jiang Cheng reassured his older sister and switched the topic promptly, “how’s the pregnancy coming?”
There really wasn’t a choice for him at this point – his sect was in its infancy, too fragile to withhold external scandals and pressures. Any weaknesses on his part will be the downfall of the Jiang Sect. Compared to letting the sect fall into ruins under his hands, a little sacrifice on his part was nothing.
~oOo~
For the longest time Jiang Cheng prided himself for reigning in his nature and piecing back the fragments of Lotus Pier. When the Burial Mound Siege ended, Jiang Cheng believed that he had truly achieved the impossible, stepped outside the constraints set by his second gender, and walked out of the shadows of his defected shixiong.
Only to have that belief shattered into smithereens when the truth of his golden core got out in the most humiliating of ways: through a Wen’s mouth.
After that it has been a slippery slope of trying to regain his footing, to fight the nagging shadows of his doubts – strangely sounding like his parents at times – that he is just not good enough.
A kunze is never meant to be in a position of power.
Look at you, the golden core inside you does not belong to you. Your body is not your own. Sooner or later you will give in to the instincts of a kunze to submit to a tianqian.
Hah! Imagine the infamous Sandu Shengshou, spreading his legs like a common whore!
Unsavory whispers trailed behind him (were they imaginary? Jiang Cheng couldn’t tell anymore). Rumors and stories of the outcomes of kunzes haunted him, words that Jiang Cheng heard uttered one-too-many-times against his own kind. Words that he had internalized more than he wanted to admit.
~oOo~
Jiang Cheng eyes the bowl of black liquid before him. He could already taste the foul odor without even drinking a single drop of it, the taste long ingrained on his tongue.
To deter nosy people and keep potential gossips at bay, Jiang Cheng builds a tough exterior. He throws himself into all sorts of night hunts and sect events to proof that he can defy the weaknesses inherent in his sex. He attends matchmaking sessions to proof that he acts just like everyone else and has the power to choose his partner.
But proof to whom? To the cultivation world? To his long-deceased family? To himself?
During dark times these questions nag at him. He learned to quell them somewhat, sweep them aside, and bury them under all the unfinished works he still has to attend to. The young sect leader takes a deep breath and downs the bowl of medicine in one go, letting the scalding liquid settle in his stomach. Within a few seconds, the gentle smell of lotus clinging onto him disappears.
Checking that nothing is out of order, Jiang Cheng is ready to present himself to the outside world.
He is once again, Jiang Cheng, Sandu Shengshou, the sect leader of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, a proud figure in his own right.
Most importantly, he is a heyi.
~oOo~
Noble. Regal. Refined. A true gentleman well-versed in the Six Arts. Hero of the Sunshot Campaign.
Many people participated in the Campaign, but when it came to claiming credits for the defeat of the Wen Sect Leader, only a few dared to do so.
Lan Xichen found himself the involuntary hero. It was never his intention to be heralded as one, but because of his work in recruiting stray members of different sects, he was elevated to the symbol of the Campaign. His escapade from the burning Cloud Recesses, valuable scrolls tucked in his qiankun pouches while eluding the Wen dogs’ nets, became a sensational story. Children begged for it to be repeated during bedtime, women swooned at the sheer excitement and gall of it all, and teahouses and wandering theatre groups recited it fervently (one rendition even described him as the embodiment of Ji-Liang, a mythical horse rumored to travel thousands of li per day).
Little did people know that Lan Xichen’s insides were burning with shame. When the Wens intruded the grounds of Cloud Recesses, he had no desires to leave behind his home, his hapless father, and certainly not his shu-fu and younger brother. As one of the more powerful cultivators out there, he should be at the forefront defending his people.
Instead, his shu-fu visited him in the middle of the night with pouches of secret scrolls, all of which were stuffed hurriedly into Lan Xichen’s hands whilst the alarm gongs resounded in the not-too-far distant. He was instructed to escape and never come back until the situation cleared. Escape like a dog with its tail tucked between its leg, abandoning his people to their fate. Any protests died on his tongue when his shu-fu fixed him with a stern glare and said:
“Remember the Lan Sect rule: listen to your elders.”
For days Lan Xichen travelled through mountain passes and jungle thickets in no particular direction, subsisting on nothing more than wild pickings and stream waters. He dared not fly with his sword for fear of exposing himself in the open, and he dared not seek the protection of allies. In trying times like this, one can never be too careful of people’s intentions. He’d heard horror stories of sects turning on one another just to appease the Wen Sect’s wrath.
Sometimes the Wens were close on his heels, like a pack of wolves closing in on their prey. But Lan Xichen always managed to escape by a narrow slip.
Other times he got more respite, but he hardly slept a wink. With nothing else to do, images of the burning Cloud Recesses haunted him.
Was his father fine? Did Wangji and shu-fu evacuate the disciples fast enough?
These thoughts kept him awake most nights. If someone had seen Lan Xichen then, they would barely associate the sorry sight of the being with the esteemed son of Qingheng-Jun. His clothes were in tatters, his knuckles and skins bruised and bloodied, his face pale and eyes dark from many days of non-stop running.
The only thing keeping Lan Xichen from going back was his promise to shu-fu that he will preserve the valuable scrolls, passed down from eras bygone.
Everyone knows that a Lan does not go back on their promise. It is one of the rules.
But for the first time, Lan Xichen doubted the sect’s rules. What was the point of the rules if there were no more sect members left to uphold them? What was the point of preserving these valuable scrolls, other than a relic of a sect that was no more? Did the rules – which were created ages ago – even apply in this day and age?
~oOo~
Weeks later, Lan Xichen heard the news of the Wen Sect’s retreat. Fortunately, most of the disciples were safe. The infrastructures in Cloud Recesses, however, sustained grievous damages, especially their library pavilion and the sect leader’s house.
Soon-to-be former sect leader, if the dreadful news of his father’s dire situation were true.
The Wen Sect was smart – they didn’t follow-through with their siege, unlike what they did to annihilate the smaller sects. They knew that the Lan Sect had many ties to other sects given their prodigious backgrounds and schooling, and the annihilation of the sect could possibly incite mutiny from others. Instead, they gave ample warnings, targeted what was most precious for the sect – the library, by which the teachings of the Lans were passed unto younger generations. The destruction of the library was tantamount to cutting off the sect’s influence.
Then and there, in a rare spurt of courage, Lan Xichen decided that he had to do something.
Despite his young age, he was already quite well-known, and even though that brought him no ends of trouble when trying to elude the Wens, it also meant that he has substantial influence.
Lan Xichen began rounding up remnant members of sects that were destroyed but not annexed by the Wens. They all lost someone or something precious to them, and they could sympathize with Lan Xichen’s cause. Convincing them to join his cause was not difficult. In a relatively short period of time, he had amassed a crowd of devoted followers.
The people placed their hopes on Lan Xichen’s name: The son of Qingheng-Jun One of the Twin Jades of Gusu Lan Sect. The tianqian of the Lan Sect.