Chapter Text
After all he’s been through, Jiang Cheng would have gladly welcomed death.
But it seems Wen Chao isn’t done with him yet. He makes Wen Zhuliu fuck him in the training grounds of Lotus Pier, in the throne room, in the ancestral hall, even in his own quarters, just before they come in to have it remade for some other Wen disciple’s use. It’s the height of cruelty; to ruin the memory of every place that was ever a sanctuary to him, to leave him homeless even while still within the confines of Yunmeng. To disrespect the Jiang family name.
Each time Jiang Cheng comes another piece of himself slips away, lost to the waves. It’s too much for him to take. The humiliation is unbearable. Still, the bond makes it impossible for him to find the strength to slit his own throat, as his mother had done when her mate stopped breathing. No; Jiang Cheng’s own mate is perfectly alive, regardless that his very existence is his source of torment.
His emotions are at war; his new omega self is cheered by the attention of his alpha, eager to please and willing to submit. Jiang Cheng’s own self, on the other hand, can only swallow the disgust until he can pass out, hoping for dreams of his youth and his family, the only peace he has left. He wakes up each morning to his living nightmare instead.
He’s paraded as a prisoner to the assembled Wens, made a laughing stock in his own home. Wang Lingjiao makes him wear her discarded robes, his hair done in elaborate updos like a woman. Even his lips are painted red, “like a whore,” Wang Lingjiao taunts him with a laugh. “Wouldn’t your beloved mother like to see you now?”
Jiang Cheng only grits his teeth and resists the urge to slap her, knowing it will only result in more pain for him. She’s the whore between the two of them, and yet she has the gall to treat him like her personal toy. Each time she touches his cheek patronizingly, Jiang Cheng dreams of tearing her throat out.
His remaining consolation is that only Wen Zhuliu is allowed to touch him. He’d feared being passed around the other Wen disciples, to be used as they see fit, and perhaps that would have been his fate, if he were not properly marked. Wen Zhuliu had actually narrowed his eyes at Wang Lingjiao’s suggestion.
“Let Wen Zhuliu have him,” Wen Chao had ordered, with a careless wave of his hand. “Surely he’s enough to teach that bitch a proper lesson.”
In retaliation, Wang Lingjiao orders Jiang Cheng’s every desecration to be a public spectacle. His body is bared for everyone to see, the Wen brand on his right upper thigh cruelly visible. Disciples and servants are gathered so many times that the display no longer brings interest by the second month. Still, Jiang Cheng’s face is thin, and the shame sticks in his throat as he sees the previous YunmengJiang servants staring, unable to move their gazes upon Wang Lingjiao’s threat of pain. The thought stings at how low he’s fallen.
They had kept him chained the first few weeks, but those are removed once Wen Chao deems him too much of a coward to even consider running. The skin on his wrists are red and chafed, a physical reminder of his imprisonment.
They transform Lotus Pier to the Supervisory Office they want, putting the sigil of the Wen sect on the courtyard gable. Every time Jiang Cheng catches sight of it he wants to hurl. Perhaps it would be better if he were to remain chained in the dungeons, to avoid seeing how they destroy his home, but Wen Chao seems to take perverse delight in making sure he walks around, letting him survey the damage he’s wrought.
They are especially cruel to the female servants, taking the fate that Jiang Cheng would have been subjected to. His heart goes out to them; the women who had cooked by his sister’s side, the ones who would accompany him and his brother to the lotus gardens. He wishes he could comfort them; knows that he’s failed by not being able to protect them. Even their female disciples are reduced to mere playthings, their cores crushed as Jiang Cheng’s had been. The sight of their suffering weighs heavily on him each day.
The remaining men, meanwhile, are forced to drudgery and hard work. Some of them even pass out from exhaustion. Some, meanwhile, attempt to escape one particularly cloudy night, swimming across the Yunmeng lake to free themselves from the Wens’ cruelty. Jiang Cheng is viciously pleased to learn that dozens of Wen disciples can’t swim, Wen Chao included. He only prays that they will survive.
Wen Chao’s mouth is an angry line when it happens. In response he makes Wen Zhuliu drag Jiang Cheng to the Sect Leader’s boat, as sacred as the YunmengJiang throne room, to be fucked on his knees. Jiang Cheng crawls to the edge afterwards, desperate to fling himself off the boat, left to drown in the waters. But Wen Zhuliu keeps him pliant with merely one word.
Jiang Cheng has never been strong like his brother; able to endure without yielding to his torturers. Each resistance only brings him more pain until he can longer bear it. By the end of it all he obediently spreads his legs when Wen Zhuliu comes for him, broken and tamed. He ignores Wen Chao and Wang Lingjiao’s taunting laughs, clinging instead to the alpha he’s never wanted, losing himself in the paltry relief of sexual pleasure.
As months pass, Jiang Cheng loses all hope of being saved. His only consolation is that Wei Wuxian remains undiscovered - a fact he knows intimately well whenever Wen Chao comes stomping into the small room they’ve forced him to stay in, barely fit for a servant, his face red with rage and another humiliation ready for him.
But if Wei Wuxian lives, then has he abandoned him? His throat constricts at the thought. No, his brother would save him. He wouldn’t leave him like this.
Would he?
Wen Chao shouts and screams at him the same poisonous thoughts. “Your brother knows you’re worthless to him,” he spits. “There’s no point in rescuing you.”
Jiang Cheng curls in himself. He won’t admit it, but Wen Chao’s cruel words hurt far more than Wen Zhuliu’s physical intrusions.
If he’s honest with himself, Wen Zhuliu is not as despicable as his master. He’s never needlessly brutal while violating Jiang Cheng, and even cleans him up afterwards when Wen Chao doesn’t order him to leave him there, covered in cum. Several times Wen Zhuliu has even carried him back to bed, and one memorable evening had drawn him a bath. Jiang Cheng had been shivering helplessly the whole day, feeling feverish.
Wen Zhuliu brushes the stray hair from his forehead. “Your heat is close, Jiang Wanyin,” he says. It’s strangely soothing.
Jiang Cheng shakes his head. “No,” he moans. He’s never suffered a heat before. The thought terrifies him. To be a mindless animal in a rut, desperate for his alpha to breed him. He’s already broken as it is right now; to have each touch amplified even more would be unbearable.
“You will be fine,” Wen Zhuliu tells him. “You’re strong.” His touch is almost tender.
Jiang Cheng swallows painfully.
“Most who lose their core often succumb to death,” Wen Zhuliu continues. Jiang Cheng blinks.
“How - how did you learn how to -?” he asks shyly. There is little he knows of his alpha. Core Melting Hand is an enigma, whispered quietly in the cultivation world. Until now he’s never cared to learn more.
Wen Zhuliu continues to caress his hair. “It is a skill that was passed down to my family,” he says. “The Zhao lineage - we practiced arts that not many Sects knew. For that reason we kept away from the Five Great Sects. Of course, someone found out eventually, and wished to take our knowledge. Naturally, they did so with force.”
He falls quiet.
“I am the only one left.”
For a moment Jiang Cheng’s heart goes out to him. His next words, however, burn any sympathy Jiang Cheng has to ashes.
“His Excellency saved my life,” Wen Zhuliu says. His gaze is far away. “For that reason alone I will follow him for the rest of my life.”
Jiang Cheng turns his head away. Wen Ruohan is responsible for the death of his family, and many more besides.
“You think him evil, Jiang Wanyin,” Wen Zhuliu says now.
Jiang Cheng says nothing.
Wen Zhuliu only shakes his head. “A man who is peerless amongst the heavens sees the world in a different light. Those who defy him will not be shown mercy.”
“My parents did not defy him,” Jiang Cheng says coldly.
“No, but your brother did. His son is an extension of His Excellency.” Here Wen Zhuliu’s lips curve downward. “Even if he has no honor, insolence must not go unpunished.”
It’s the first time he’s heard Wen Zhuliu openly express disdain for Wen Chao. “...you deserve to follow a better man,” Jiang Cheng says afterwards.
“There is none better than Wen Ruohan,” Wen Zhuliu tells him, a strange kind of confidence in his words. Such a show of faith and loyalty! No wonder Wen Zhuliu has been rewarded so well. “I wish you could see it, too.”
“And why should I?”
“We have a bond,” Wen Zhuliu says. “You are mine, and I am yours. Neither of us desire this bond, but it is here nonetheless.”
“I will protect you with my life,” he adds, and Jiang Cheng tries very hard not to believe him. “I will be here to take care of you during your heat. You will surpass this, and become a proper omega.”
Wen Zhuliu’s touches seem softer, warmer, after that day. Jiang Cheng finds himself pressing closer to him each night, sometimes voluntarily seeking his body warmth as they lay together, a strange urge he refuses to examine further.
His alpha keeps his word, preparing for his heat like a devoted lover. Somehow he unearths his parents’ clothing, ones Jiang Cheng had imagined burned or sold. The scent brings Jiang Cheng to tears. His room is transformed into his nest, where he is surrounded by his siblings’ belongings; his sister’s pillows, his brother’s blankets. Wen Zhuliu even has Jiang Cheng dressed in his old robes, the inner cloth bearing his family’s colors. To top it all off, he has servants bring in vases of lotus flowers, arranging them inside his room until he is overwhelmed by their smell. Jiang Cheng sinks into the nest in a state of euphoria, feeling safer than he has in years.
When Wen Zhuliu comes to him on the first day of his heat, Jiang Cheng rises eagerly, welcoming his alpha’s presence. His instincts make him press against him, desire rolling off him in waves. It pleases him to see Wen Zhuliu waver, his usual stoic mask slipping. Jiang Cheng wants to see him lose control, wants to be the one to slip past those defenses. “Alpha,” he murmurs, one arm around his alpha’s neck. “Please. I want you to take me.”
Wen Zhuliu’s eyes are molten hot as he undresses Jiang Cheng slowly.
It is nothing like any of the times they have coupled. Jiang Cheng almost feels shy as his outer robes have been removed, leaving him only with his flimsy inner robe. Wen Zhuliu has always been careful and meticulous with him, never pushing him into pain unless necessary, but now he touches Jiang Cheng with reverence, as if he were something precious and fragile, instead of the dirty, useless thing that he has become. He cups his chin with his hands and presses a kiss onto his lips; Jiang Cheng’s first.
He gasps into it, clumsy and unsure. Wen Zhuliu deepens the kiss, pressing him down to the bedding.
Slowly Wen Zhuliu loosens the belt that keeps Jiang Cheng’s robe tied together, his sleeves slipping off his shoulders. Jiang Cheng has lost weight in his capture; his old robes no longer fit him as well, but Wen Zhuliu seems unbothered by it. Gently he parts Jiang Cheng’s knees with his hands, settling between his thighs. With his clothes out of the way, Wen Zhuliu is free to touch bare skin.
Jiang Cheng shivers as the hands roam over his body, starting from his neck and all the way down to his ankles. Wen Zhuliu leaves no place untouched, fingers warm with each caress. It’s hardly sensual, but it leaves Jiang Cheng in a state of growing arousal, heady and pleasant. One hand lounges casually on his hips, close to his cock, but Wen Zhuliu only brushes past it with his palm.
The hands are soon replaced by Wen Zhuliu’s mouth, returning to the upper part of his body like a conqueror to his discovered land. His tongue flicks at the peaked buds, and Jiang Cheng cries out at the sensation. The attack is merciless; in minutes he’s a panting mess, just from having his nipples played with.
Wen Zhuliu retreats, looking satisfied. Jiang Cheng looks up at him, mouth parted. Soft noises escape from his throat, maddening chirps to egg his alpha on. His entire body is quivering, helpless with the anticipation. He wants his alpha, and he wants him now.
Fortunately, Wen Zhuliu complies, moving to remove his clothing. Jiang Cheng tugs on the robes impatiently, eager to see his alpha. He has never seen Wen Zhuliu bared to him, and it shocks him how much the thought excites him. There’s a smile on Wen Zhuliu’s lips as he helps Jiang Cheng disrobe him, pulling off his pants with ease.
“Mine,” Jiang Cheng murmurs involuntarily, tracing the skin on his chest. There are dozens of scars on his alpha; a life so unknown to him. The scars on his back seem laughable now, no matter how Jiang Cheng had hated the sight of them in the mirror. What can they compare to what Wen Zhuliu has seen?
His alpha presses his lips to his roving hand, pulling his palm to his mouth. “Yours.” Jiang Cheng raises his eyes to meet his and is stunned to see the softness in Wen Zhuliu’s face.
Wen Zhuliu leans in again for another kiss, this time rougher than the first, but no less passionate. Jiang Cheng opens his mouth, letting their tongues meet. It’s sloppy and warm. He loses himself into it, their kissing unhurried, stretching deep into the evening. The candle on the bedside table has already burned low when Wen Zhuliu reaches down to stroke his half-hard cock.
Jiang Cheng sits up to help him. He’s touched him several times before, familiar on how to bring that length into arousal with how often he’s been forced to do it, but tonight his alpha lets him take the lead, watching him with careful eyes and letting soft moans fall from his mouth when Jiang Cheng does something he likes. It makes a part of his heart burn up with joy, knowing that he’s pleased his alpha without prompting. Wen Zhuliu peppers kisses on his shoulder, laving where the claiming bite lies.
His slick has already pooled into the bedding, leaving a wet patch. It’s sufficed plenty for their previous couplings, but tonight Wen Zhuliu reaches for a jar of oil, dribbling onto his fingers. He nudges Jiang Cheng back to lie down, hooking one leg over his shoulder as he slips two fingers inside his hole. Jiang Cheng feels wet and stretched, the preparation leaving him gasping. Eventually, Wen Zhuliu deems him ready and kneels in front of him, the tip of his cock angled for his entrance, one elbow braced near his shoulder.
He presses in slowly, despite the lack of resistance. Jiang Cheng moans, the fullness overwhelming him as their bodies are enjoined together. Above him Wen Zhuliu’s face looms, his bulk pressing close to him until their chests touch.
His face burns. Wen Zhuliu has never taken him in such a position before. It feels unbearably intimate, and Jiang Cheng covers his face with one hand.
“Don’t,” Wen Zhuliu murmurs. “I want to see you.”
Jiang Cheng only shakes his head.
But his alpha is insistent. He draws Jiang Cheng’s hand away after a particularly harsh thrust, making Jiang Cheng cry out from pleasure. His body is a live wire, strung taut, responding to each snap of Wen Zhuliu’s hips with his own.
The pressure building in him explodes when Wen Zhuliu’s hand encircles Jiang Cheng’s manhood, making him lose control with a wordless wail. Not once has Wen Zhuliu touched him there to make him come, having trained well Jiang Cheng’s responses. But he only chuckles as he continues each stroke, hands wet with Jiang Cheng’s own slick. The feeling of being stimulated in both areas is almost too much for Jiang Cheng’s senses. He lets his nails drag down Wen Zhuliu’s back, moaning wantonly as he scrabbles for purchase.
He leans in for another kiss, and Jiang Cheng returns it, mouth open and helpless. The knot is pressing into him, so large and tight. Excitement thrums inside him, making him climax once more.
“You’re insatiable,” Wen Zhuliu whispers in his ear as he pours cum inside him, Jiang Cheng’s mind awash with pleasure. The frenzy of the heat only grows from there, making him beg shamelessly. His alpha is only happy to do as he asks. Jiang Cheng is knotted day and night, filled to the brim until he can take no more.
He doesn’t know how many days have passed, only that the heat doesn’t subside until his inner omega is full and sated.
Clarity returns to him after, and so does shame.
It isn’t long until he’s heavy with child. His stomach grows round, and Jiang Cheng feels conflicted with pride and disgust. To be forced to carry the seed of his parents’ murderer is a punishment more effective than any whip. Some days he can’t bear it, to have those who once served under his family see him shamed like this. He languishes inside his room, tears hot as he tries to assuage the desire that grows deeper in him.
Before, he’d stay and wait for Wen Zhuliu to come and claim him, furious in his complacency. But now he all but begs for his alpha, longing for his presence and more importantly, his knot. Jiang Cheng has become addicted to the taste of it. He is ruined forever.
Wen Zhuliu is patient with him, careful in his ministrations. Each time they mate Jiang Cheng feels closer to him, his heart softened by their familiarity and intimacy. Nowadays Wen Zhuliu lets him stay in his own chambers, keeping him comfortable and pampered in his own way. Regardless of the stoicism of his mate, Jiang Cheng can appreciate the unwavering quality of his devotion. There are alphas known for their cruelty. Perhaps, if it were someone like Wen Xu who had claimed him, Jiang Cheng would be in a less contented state.
An ugly expression often crosses Wen Chao’s face whenever he sees him. Jiang Cheng takes pains to keep out of his way, fearful of his moods. There’s a strange air nowadays, apprehensive and worrisome. More than once Jiang Cheng has heard him screaming at Wang Lingjiao; unusual, when he’s always treating her like a pampered pet. Has something happened?
There is little word that reaches his ears outside Lotus Pier. He knows that the massacre of his family has made a ripple of protests, but would it be enough? The Wens have burned down Cloud Recesses without much opposition. Has their goal to take hold of all the other Sects succeeded?
He’s crossing the hallways one day when he sees Wen Chao coming. He tries to turn towards the other direction, but it’s too late. Wen Chao comes bearing down on him, his smile ugly. “Jiang Wanyin,” he says. “My dog’s little bitch. How are you doing?”
Jiang Cheng says nothing, only bows his head.
“Nothing to say? Come on. Aren’t you well-trained enough?” He lifts Jiang Cheng’s face up by the chin. “Show some respect and greet your master.”
He grits his teeth. “I am well, Second Young Master Wen.”
“That’s better.” To his disgust, Wen Chao’s hand moves down to his chest until it finally lands on his stomach. He’s gotten plumper these days, but hardly enough to show signs of his pregnancy. Still, Wen Chao’s mouth twists to a sneer. “Look at you, all knocked up. Proud to be carrying our pups now? It’s good to know you can carry. Perhaps we can take you back to Qishan to be bred properly.”
Jiang Cheng shrinks in on himself. He’s only just begun to hope that somehow, there could be something good about this cruelty he’s living in; that Wen Zhuliu won’t abandon him. Wen Chao’s words are akin to being doused by cold water.
“Of course, your son is ours,” he says. They’d had a doctor come to determine the child’s sex - Wen Zhuliu had been pleased to know he carried his heir. “He’ll be raised to be a good Wen disciple. Perhaps if he’s strong enough, he can serve my family as well.”
Unexpectedly, Wen Zhuliu arrives at the scene, as if summoned by Jiang Cheng’s own discomfort. His eyes are dark as he catches sight of Jiang Cheng’s posture, and steps in between them.
Wen Chao’s expression twists further as he’s forced to let go. “And what do you think you’re doing?”
Wen Zhuliu’s expression is cold. “You are not to touch him.”
“Oh? And why not?” Wen Chao grits his teeth. “Don’t tell me you care about this useless bitch.”
Their voices are low, but the dangerous intent welling up from their auras are so strong that even Jiang Cheng can sense it. Soon enough, Wen disciples gather from both sides of the hallway, hands at their sword hilts.
Wen Zhuliu is unmoved by the display. “You told me to mark him.” His tone is sharp as steel. “He carries my son. I won’t let you hurt him.”
Wen Chao snarls at him. “You’ll disobey me?”
Wen Zhuliu doesn’t flinch. “Your father’s orders are to keep you from harm. The child does not pose any danger to you.”
Wen Chao sneers. “And how do you know that? He might take his mother’s side, and take up his sword against the Wens.”
“I am the father,” Wen Zhuliu snaps. “And the boy will obey me.”
“You - ”
“You may do whatever you wish, as always,” Wen Zhuliu says to the fuming Wen Chao. “But you will not harm what’s mine.” He doesn’t draw his sword on his master, but it’s a near thing. The atmosphere is tense. Everyone knows that Core Melting Hand is much stronger than Wen Chao. None of the Wen disciples are much fond of the second young master, either. Jiang Cheng has heard many of them grumbling against his unreasonable demands. Should a power struggle come down to it, most of them would not stand to defend Wen Chao.
Jiang Cheng turns away from the exchange. Wen Zhuliu steers him back to his own chambers, where Jiang Cheng collapses hopelessly onto his bed.
He shivers. “Will he take the baby away?” Even though the child is unborn, Jiang Cheng can already feel their connection.
“I won’t let him,” Wen Zhuliu tells him firmly. He presses his nose close to the mark bite, and Jiang Cheng feels his muscles relax. “Put your mind at ease, Jiang Wanyin.”
Strangely enough, Jiang Cheng believes him. He curls up into him, soaking up Wen Zhuliu’s warmth.
His alpha may not have been his choice, but he’s still his. The bond goes both ways, after all. Wen Zhuliu is obligated to protect him, to keep him safe from threats. And regardless of the bond, he knows his alpha is an honorable man who will keep his word. Jiang Cheng falls asleep to that comfort.
The following week, Wen Chao orders Wen Zhuliu away. “We will return to Nightless City by tomorrow,” he snaps, looking particularly vicious. “Pack your bags.” He sneers, one contemptuous look in Jiang Cheng’s direction. “The bitch stays here.”
Jiang Cheng’s heart contracts.
He’s read some of the letters left in their room, momentarily forgotten in their passions. There is unrest happening outside of Yunmeng; the other Sects are displeased with the QishanWen’s continued encroachment, and some demand justice for what has been done to the Jiangs. Jiang Cheng had read the words ‘Sunshot Campaign’ before he heard footsteps nearing his quarters, and he’d had to fold the letters away quickly, composing himself.
He wonders if it will succeed. QingheNie is said to be leading the charge, but with the GusuLan Sect in disarray and YunmengJiang destroyed, they will need the support of LanlingJin. The QishanWen Sect is large and far-reaching - without a combined effort of the other four Great Sects, it will be close to impossible. He fears that Qinghe may just end up following the footsteps of Yunmeng.
But if Wen Chao has been ordered to return to Qishan...things may be more dire than he thinks. Grimly, Jiang Cheng knows his fate hangs in the balance either way. Wen Zhuliu may protect him, but if he dies during the war then Jiang Cheng will be left an abandoned omega. And even if the Sunshot Campaign were to succeed, what is he to do? He cannot rebuild his sect without his core. His only hope is the son in his womb. He cannot die now.
Wang Lingjiao looks distraught at being left at Yunmeng. She’s to keep hold of the Supervisory Office, as per Wen Chao’s orders, with several Wen disciples along with her. She throws a particularly dark look at Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng only stares at her dully. She won’t hold back, he knows, and he’s surrounded by Wens who would happily slit his throat at his first convenience.
Wen Zhuliu’s face is pinched, but he cannot disobey direct orders. “You will keep safe,” Wen Zhuliu tells him, as he arranges his belongings. There is little that he takes; beyond his sword and some talismans, he leaves the rest to Jiang Cheng.
Jiang Cheng watches him pace the room with an impending sense of doom. “Wen Zhuliu.” He swallows and takes his alpha’s hand. Wen Zhuliu blinks, a strange expression crossing his face before smoothing into blankness.
They spend the evening together, Jiang Cheng crushed under the weight of Wen Zhuliu’s passion. It’s even more intense than their time in his heat, and Jiang Cheng wishes it would never end. He clings close to him, their legs intertwined, wishing there was a way to keep his alpha with him.
Morning dawns and Jiang Cheng wakes up from the fit of anxiety, seeing Wen Zhuliu already awake. Wordlessly he helps him prepare, tying his robes and braiding his hair. When he is done, Wen Zhuliu kisses him once on the lips, chaste and soft. Jiang Cheng stays still with his eyes closed, desperately wanting more but not daring to articulate it.
They walk to the docks together. The Wens will travel by sword, unlike how Jiangs would take their boats. Still, Jiang Cheng thinks he would have liked to see his alpha off in the same way, like how his mother would often do it for his father, regardless of any arguments they’ve had the day before. It was a duty Madame Yu had never forsaken, and she would stand there, watching the boat float out into the horizon until it was gone from sight.
Several Wens are already standing by the edge of the water, yawning and sluggish. Wen Zhuliu turns to him, expression grave. “Take care, Jiang Wanyin,” he says softly. And then, he leans in close.
“Your parents’ ashes are in an urn under the loose floorboard in your chambers,” Wen Zhuliu whispers. Jiang Cheng’s eyes go wide in shock. Wen Zhuliu pulls away abruptly, and heads off to join the assembled Wens.
He watches him turn away, and somehow, tears spring to his eyes. Besides him, he hears a snort.
“How touching,” Wang Lingjiao mocks. She turns to Wen Chao, who’s only arrived, but he spares her no similar display. He only walks on, and with one last sneer, unsheathes his sword and takes his leave. The rest of the Wens follow, and soon they are nothing but a mere dot on the horizon.
You promised. Jiang Cheng thinks, painfully, recalling the previous evening with stunning clarity. Wen Zhuliu had said he would return for him. He knows the words could have just been said in a fit of passion, but his alpha is rarely careless with his words. And yet...those parting words today, were they not as good as a farewell?
The minute Wen Chao is gone, Wang Lingjiao takes particular care in tormenting him. Rage at being left behind suffuses her every act. Jiang Cheng worries about the child he is carrying, taking to avoid her as much as possible.
That insufferable woman retaliates by torturing the other servants in Lotus Pier instead. Jiang Cheng is walking past the kitchens when he hears crying.
“Please,” the woman says, pleading. She’s lying on the ground, Wang Lingjiao pulling at her hair. Her face is shut in pain. Jiang Cheng’s heart stutters. “Please have mercy.”
Wang Lingjiao laughs coldly. “Mercy? On useless women like you? You’ve ruined my clothing!” She gestures at a stain on her robes with her other hand. “You’ve done this on purpose! I should have your face burned off for your insolence!”
The servant flinches, shivering. “No! Please! I didn’t!” The woman shakes her head, screaming. Wang Lingjiao only slaps her face.
“Get me a branding stick!” she demands to the one of the Wen disciples standing guard. Jiang Cheng’s heart lurches. She’d been the one to brand his own thigh, though the pain of the burn had mattered so little in those early days. He recalls how Wang Lingjiao had also attempted to brand that female Jin disciple in the cave in Dusk Creek Mountain.
Anger burns up in him. Before the Wen disciple can hand it over, Jiang Cheng steps in and grabs it forcefully.
Wang Lingjiao raises her head and sneers. “What do you think you’re doing?” It’s almost a mimicry of Wen Chao’s own tone. Jiang Cheng swallows a hysterical laugh, and stands his ground.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he returns. “If she’s made a mistake, then she will be punished. But only if she is truly proven guilty.”
Wang Lingjiao mouth’s twists. “And who are you to tell me what to do?”
“Lotus Pier belongs to the Jiangs,” he says frostily. “These people are under my protection. I decide their punishment, not you.”
She laughs. “So high and mighty now? You’re just a little bitch,” she spits, and raises her hand as if to strike him.
Jiang Cheng clenches his fists. “Maybe so,” he says. “But between the two of us, who’s carrying a Wen son?”
Wang Lingjiao’s hand freezes in mid-air.
Jiang Cheng smiles thinly at her. “I am Wen Zhuliu’s omega,” he says. “And if he learns that you’ve disrespected me then I assure you he will not be lenient. You may think little of him, but his surname is Wen, and he has claimed me as his own. He serves the main family, and has been recognized by Wen Ruohan himself. But you? You are a mere servant, clinging to a man’s temporary affections. Wen Chao will toss you away the minute he’s tired of you. In fact, isn’t that what he’s done right now?”
She gapes at him. “You dare -”
Coldly, he takes Wang Lingjiao’s wrist. “Hasn’t he left you here with little protection?” he mocks. “You think you can hold this Supervisory Office with your skill? Yunmeng is not impregnable, you know it yourself.” His grip tightens. Wang Lingjiao screeches in pain.
Her face is contorted with rage. “I should kill you!” She screams.
“If you kill me,” Jiang Cheng sneers, “then you seal your fate. My mate will hunt you down, for the crime of murdering his unborn child. You think he will forgive such a slight?” He raises his head, looking at the assembled Wen disciples. They avert their eyes, suddenly uneasy. Wen Chao is their master, undoubtedly so, but no one can deny Core Melting Hand’s strength. Jiang Cheng wouldn’t be surprised if they fear his alpha more.
He lets go of her hand. “I suggest you tread lightly from now on, Wang Lingjiao,” he says. “My servants and I will be treated with respect in these halls. If you ever lay a hand on me, I promise you, you will regret it all the days of your miserable life.”
She glares at him, angry and hateful, but she does not say another word. Jiang Cheng leaves the courtyard, his own hands shaking.
He has never felt more like himself than today. It is as if his mother had possessed him, given him courage he has long forgotten.
Somehow, his footsteps lead him back to Wen Zhuliu’s chambers. He hesitates at the doorway; the scent of his alpha still lingers until now. These days he’s taken to sleeping here instead of his own quarters. Unbidden, Jiang Cheng misses him.
A sense of foreboding builds up inside of him. He stumbles inside, clutching his stomach. A terrifying thought crosses his mind - what if he never sees Wen Zhuliu ever again?
Three weeks later, Wei Wuxian returns to Lotus Pier.