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She remembers, every time, even if those around her do not. The Wen arrive, the Jiang fight, they die. The Wen arrive, the Jiang surrender, they die. The Wen arrive, Jiang Yanli buys her family and disciples time to escape, and they die. Nothing she has done, no change she has made, no warnings she can give makes any difference at all. At best, she’s created time for her brothers to escape-- as they did the first time-- with a few more disciples than in the original timeline.
She’s tired, a sort of heart-weariness that is deeper even than the exhaustion that has dogged her every step since childhood.
What is she supposed to be learning from this? That no matter what she does, no matter how she attempts the impossible, she will lose her home and her family? She’s known that for years, long before her parents’ anger spilled over onto her brothers and she could do nothing but offer them a quiet place to rest and soup.
Breathing out, she watches Wang Lingjiao mince along the one of the pathways across the training field, bright sunlight showing her garish clothing and make-up for what it is.
“I’ll bring tea,” she says quietly to her mother, and disappears before a-Niang can say anything. Even if Jiang Yanli hasn’t been able to save everyone the last ten, twenty, fifty times, she keeps trying. She doesn’t have a golden core to use in combat; she doesn’t have the skill with words to turn Wang Lingjiao away; but she does have a fully stocked kitchen and knowledge of common poisons.
Wen Zhuliu will still be a problem, but she will throw herself in his way before she allows him to harm Jiang Cheng again. She will kill them all, one day, and find a way to save her family.
She lets three more repeats go by as she meditates, pushing herself further than her doctors ever allowed her. She might push herself into qi deviation, or heart failure, if she pushes too far, too hard, but what use is her golden core, her heart, her life if everyone she cares about is dead.
Fortunately, whatever progress she makes appears to travel with her-- it might all disappear in an instant as soon as she is out of this loop, but she’s not treading water.
Poison in the teapot for Wang Lingjiao and her mother; Wen Zhuliu drawn away by disciples making a ruckus; she slits his throat with the same efficiency as she butchers a chicken. Her brothers, sent away with the youngest disciples, and the most promising of their cohort.
Wen Chao and his men are met with more poison, in the wine and tea. Her father still dies, by Wen Chao’s hand, but the sect will survive.
It just took sacrificing everything about herself to ensure it. Jiang Yanli’s meridians burn with the effort, with carrying more qi than she has ever managed to maintain at once, but her hands do not shake as she sets off towards Meishan. Maybe tomorrow, she’ll wake up further along the road instead of back in her bed.