Jian began tidying up his workplace as soon as he finished reading the message. A visit from the Heavenly Sword Sect called for a great deal of preparation. Others of the Guo family would shoulder most of the work of preserving the family's reputation in the face of such an important guest, but Jian knew he still ought to make himself presentable. As soon as his workshop was squared away, he hurried back to his room.
Choosing his outfit was simple. He only owned a single silk shirt. Dyed a vivid green, it had been a gift from his father. Removing his work shirt and slipping the silk shirt over his head took no time at all. He retrieved the matching sash and tied it around his waist, feeling slightly awkward as the silk sleeves billowed with the motion. Looking down at his pants, he frowned, then shrugged. They were made of simple linen, but they were clean and free of holes.
Good enough.
He still had time to grab a bite to eat before their guests arrived, if he hurried. Jian headed from his room directly towards the kitchens.
The Guo family occupied a large compound in the heart of Bianjing Town. The family itself was quite large, and their collection of allies and employees even larger. It just wasn't practical for the whole extended family to get together for meals every day. Smaller groups of closer relatives generally ate together, but the kitchens also provided food to Guo family members on demand. Usually, Jian would grab a quick meal to eat at his workshop while he thought over his latest project. Today, he had weightier thoughts on his mind.
Much as he'd tried to distract himself by keeping busy, he found his thoughts drifting back to Meirong. He had spent years eagerly anticipating the day he could be free of their engagement and the shadow it cast over his life, but now that the day was upon him, he found himself feeling reluctant. He frowned, pushing the feeling away. It wasn't like he could do anything to change the inevitable course of events.
He was still brooding as his path took him past the sparring rings. Jian spared a glance to make sure that none of his more troublesome cousins were around, but otherwise paid the location no mind. Accordingly, he was rather startled when a flailing combatant was sent flying out of the ring, passing by close enough to force Jian to stop and watch him crash through the decorative hedge that surrounded the area.
Jian looked over to see who was still standing in the ring, then shook his head. He should have known.
Shan had been the only cultivator his own age who had come close to keeping up with Jian as he flew through Essence Gathering. The two of them had become rivals, then friends. Their friendship had survived Jian's discovery of his crippling body constitution, largely because Jian found it impossible to stay angry with him for any length of time.
Shan cut a striking figure. He was half a head taller than Jian, who himself was not short. Where Jian was lean and athletic, Shan was broad and powerful. His golden hair marked him as a member of the Tian family that had served the Guo for generations. As he stood with his training saber extended following that final strike, he looked like a forbidding avatar of war.
Then he spotted Jian, and the goofy grin on his face broke the illusion. Tossing the training saber aside, he bounded over to clap Jian on the shoulder.
"The man of the hour!" he exclaimed. "Are you excited?"
Jian cocked his head, looking at his friend with fresh eyes. For the last four years he had avoided talking about Meirong or his engagement, redirecting any conversation that threatened to broach the topic. He hadn't expected Shan to pick up on his discomfort and recognize how eager he was to be rid of the engagement. It really went to show that while Shan might have an open, straightforward personality, he wasn't stupid.
Jian took an extra moment to consider the question, then shook his head. "Relieved. Relieved that this engagement is finally ending."
Shan looked at him with wide eyes. "Little Rong is coming here for a wedding?"
And now Jian could look at his friend with the same old expectations as always. He should have known better than to imagine that Shan would think deeply about anything besides training and cultivation.
"No, you idiot," he said, punching Shan on the shoulder and bruising his knuckles, "she's coming here to cut ties."
"I'm an idiot?" Shan said, laughing. "Cut ties? We're talking about the little girl that used to follow you around everywhere."
Jian shook his head and started walking. Shan fell into step beside him.
It was true that he and Meirong had been thick as thieves, once upon a time, banding together with Lanfen to form an infamous trio of troublemakers. While Lanfen had styled herself the leader of their little group, Meirong had always clung more closely to him than to the older girl. Of course, that was back when he was the family's prodigy.
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"That was a long time ago."
"I remember she promised to work extra hard on cultivating," Shan said, "just so that she could catch up with you."
Jian stopped dead in his tracks, clenching his hands into fists. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to open his hands as he exhaled. He brushed a few non-existent wrinkles out of his shirt and started walking again. After a few steps he had caught back up to a sheepish looking Shan.
He remembered the day she had made that promise. She'd made him promise, too, that he wouldn't slack off, and together the two of them would race along the path of cultivation and explore all the forbidden areas surrounding the Empire together. She'd followed through on her promise, working hard and writing to him any time something troubled her. He'd been glad to help, glad to share his knowledge, until he'd learned that his days of advancing along the path of cultivation were over.
Not that his willingness to help had mattered, at that point. The challenges Meirong had been running into at the Body Tempering level were problems he had never encountered, and never would. How could he give her advice? He hadn't even read her last few letters.
"Obviously," Jian said, doing his best to keep his voice level, "she found some other form of motivation."
Shan cleared his throat, clearly a little embarrassed at having touched on such a sensitive topic. Not to mention that Jian was only stating an obvious fact. Meirong wouldn't have reached her current lofty status if she had limited herself to chasing after him.
"Well, even so," Shan said, "don't discount the power of love."
"Love?" Jian said, scoffing. "We're talking about marriage."
Marriage was an act that bound two families together, not just two people. The Wang family had deep roots in the capital. When they were at their lowest point and Jian at his highest, marriage between them had been possible. Now that Meirong's rise had restored much of the Wang's former glory and his own prospects had fallen off a cliff, a marriage didn't make any sense except as a punchline.
"Come now," Shan said, "don't try to tell me you feel nothing for her."
They arrived at the kitchens, sparing Jian from answering for a moment as he instead focused on obtaining dinner. The kitchens were a sprawling complex, reflecting the size and wealth of the family it served. Jian could have found a chef and demanded that they prepare a meal to his tastes, but he had no intention of wasting that much time. Not when there were perfectly good meat buns ready to hand, made for the kitchen workers to enjoy when they had a moment to spare. The simple, hearty fare was quite enough for him.
Jian took a bun from the tray and took a bite as he led the way back outside. He couldn't enjoy the taste of it as he found his thoughts drifting in response to Shan's question.
All the logical reasoning in the world couldn't stop the memories forcing their way into his mind's eye. Cleaning and bandaging a skinned knee after a little girl tried to follow him up a tree. Sneaking out to the sparring ring at night to teach her how to throw a punch before she was old enough to join the family's training. Watching a wild mass of red hair as she leaned out the window of her carriage and waved at him until she was completely out of sight.
Jian couldn't imagine a much better feeling than knowing he had the full measure of admiration and trust of someone he liked. He couldn't imagine a much worse feeling than knowing he had utterly failed to live up to those expectations. Even so, and even though he knew it was ridiculous, he still couldn't help but feel a faint protective urge stirring in the depths of his heart.
He shook his head and took another bite of the meat bun. The two of them soon reached one of the Guo family's gardens. There were no spiritual herbs here, only decorative flowers. It was a pleasant place to linger, and reasonably private.
Jian swallowed, cleared his throat, and turned to see Shan watching him expectantly. "How is your training going?"
Shan wavered with indecision a moment before grunting out a reply. "Well enough."
"You're adapted to the new strength?" Jian asked. Shan had recently finished tempering his muscles, advancing into the final stage of Body Tempering. The advance brought with it a great increase in strength, but it was notoriously difficult to learn how to harness that strength effectively.
"It's tricky. Especially trying to get my footwork right," Shan said. "I should be ready in time for the tournament."
Jian smiled. He was happy for his friend and happy that he was so easily diverted. On the rare occasion when one question about training wasn't enough to convince him to change the topic, two questions usually did the trick.
The Guo family held a tournament for its younger generation every year as part of its new year's celebrations. Everyone in the family and their allied families who was under twenty was eligible to enter. The prize money was generous, but the prestige that came with an impressive performance was a stronger lure for most of the competitors. Jian had never participated.
"You might win this year, then," Jian said. If Shan really could stabilize his foundation after finishing muscle tempering, he would at least enter as one of the favorites.
"I will win this year! I can feel it," Shan said, punching the air for emphasis. "This year Lanfen will finally put me in her eyes."
Jian was aware that, objectively speaking, Lanfen was one of the great objects of desire within Bianjing Town. She was a classic beauty, an accomplished cultivator, and possessed of an impeccable pedigree. Jian knew all that, but he also knew Lanfen too well to really understand the feelings of her suitors.
Out of all the men trying to catch Lanfen's eye, Shan's pursuit was more reasonable than most. There had been marriages between the Guo family and the Tian family in the past. None of the Guo had been quite so highly placed as Lanfen, but then none of the Tian had been quite so talented as Shan. The only reason Jian couldn't whole-heartedly support his friend's efforts was the tumult that would certainly occur when Shan's idealized vision of Lanfen's personality ran into the real thing.
Jian considered saying something. He, more than anybody, had received more instruction than he'd ever wanted on Lanfen's view of romance. If he relayed that advice on to Shan, it might help his suit. Or perhaps persuade him to drop it. After a moment's thought, Jian abandoned the idea. Some things a man could only learn for himself through experience. Instead, he simply reached up and patted Shan on the shoulder.
He was saved from the need to say anything further when the central bell rang out, alerting the whole compound. Their distinguished guests would be arriving soon.