Chapter Text
The messenger was haggard and famished; he had been travelling hard for many days and nights, hardly pausing to sleep and not at all to eat. It was imperative, he said, that he arrive at the Gusu and gain audience with the leaders of the Lan Clan.
“The Wen clan has found the third piece of the Yin Iron,” said the messenger. “They are preparing an invasion of Gusu for the final piece. Make your preparations.”
The clan gathered, troubled.
“One thing is clear,” said Lan Qiren. “We’re not strong enough to withstand a war. We’d hoped to have more time to stockpile supplies, to train our cultivators, to complete our maps and strategise. They, on the other hand, will be ready to attack as soon as we give them an excuse.”
No one disagreed, though one or two of the younger members seemed to wish they could. (Of course we could take the Wen Clan; they’re just puffed-up petty tyrants really…)
“We have allies,” said Lan Xichen.
“Some. And?”
“If our allies make it clear that they would back us up, the Wen Clan might decide that it’s more trouble than it's worth - at least for now. We can buy the time we need.”
“The Jin clan won’t put itself out for us - it’s too risky,” said another cultivator, shaking his head. “And a show of strength from the Nie clan alone wouldn’t be enough to stop the Wens. We should focus instead on shoring up our own defences - improving the enchantments over the entrances to Cloud Recesses, continuing to recruit young cultivators…”
“What about the Jiang clan of Yunmeng?” said Lan Xichen.
Lan Qiren stroked his beard. “I had thought of them,” he said, slowly. “But since the death of Jiang Fengmian, it's ruled by Yu Ziyuan."
“It’s not as if she likes the Wen clan,” said Lan Xichen.
“But she’s unpredictable. Yunmeng is still untouched by these war rumours. Even if we could get a letter to them, Yu Ziyuan’s priorities aren’t the same as ours - she only thinks about the good of the Jiang clan.”
“Then we should make it a matter of good to the Jiang clan,” said a voice rarely heard among the mutterings and the arguments.
The room glanced at Lan Wangji, Lan Xichen’s younger brother. He stood, impassive as ever, near the edge of the group of cultivators, eyes trained on a point in the middle distance. Young as he was, he was taller than most; his posture was exact, his clothing precise. Something about the way he spoke - and he spoke ever so rarely - made the others in the room listen to him, even respect him.
“What do you suggest, nephew?” asked Lan Qiren.
Lan Wangji brought his attention back to the group. “Yu Ziyuan would never be persuaded by letters,” he said. “I suggest sending ambassadors directly to Yunmeng. Show them that we are still friends, and make it worthwhile for them to join us.”
Some more muttering (uncertainty - not enough time -)
But Lan Xichen smiled at his brother. “I think it’s a good idea,” he said. “I will go to Yunmeng myself. I can travel faster than even the fastest Wen soldiers. I can find out what it is that Yu Ziyuan wants most for her clan and offer it, in exchange for an alliance.”
Lan Qiren seemed wrapped in thought. Finally, he nodded slowly.
“Xichen, you and your brother will go to Yunmeng. Then you may both be safe, should the worst come to the worst. While you’re gone, we'll shore up our own protections and strategise. Maybe - there are other ways to stall.”
He crossed the room and, in a rare display of affection, placed a hand heavily on his nephew’s shoulder.
“Good luck,” he said, and left the hall.
~
Wangji and Xichen made their way slowly to begin packing for the long trip.
“I’ve never been to Yunmeng,” said Xichen. “And since Jiang Fengmian’s death, the Jiangs go abroad so rarely - I was very young when the last delegation of theirs came to us. I imagine they won’t even remember our faces - we’ll be like strangers.”
Wangji nodded. “Strangers,” he agreed. “But soon maybe very close friends.”