Chapter Text
The sun reflected off the tranquil waters of Lotus Pier, turning the lake into a shimmering mirror of gold and jade. The lotus blossoms swayed gently with the breeze, their soft fragrance mixing with the crisp morning air. Wooden walkways stretched over the water, their polished surfaces warm under the sunlight as disciples moved hurriedly but quietly, careful not to disturb the fragile peace of the day.
Jiang Yanli sat at a low table, her tea still steaming in the porcelain cup between her delicate fingers. It was a normal day, peaceful in a way she had come to expect, the kind of moment she would've cherished if not for the words echoing in her mind.
A gentle breeze stirred the silken curtains of her room, and with it, a single piece of parchment, forgotten amidst the calm, slipped from the table’s edge. The crisp rustling of the paper drew her gaze downward, and for a moment, she only stared, as if hesitant to acknowledge it.
Her pale hand stretched out, fingers trembling slightly as she reached for it. The parchment felt strange beneath her fingertips—too smooth, too unblemished, as if untouched by time. It lacked the rough, fibrous texture of ordinary scrolls, the familiar scent of ink and incense that usually clung to written letters. Instead, it carried a faint metallic tang, something unsettlingly foreign.
The edges weren’t frayed, nor did they curl like aged paper. The ink, dark and sharp, didn't bleed into the parchment’s fibers but stood crisp and bold against the surface, unnaturally precise. If she hadn’t known better, she might thought it'd been freshly written. But something about it felt... wrong. Or rather, impossible.
Her fingers hovered over the unfamiliar script, her heart pounding. The handwriting—it wasn’t entirely foreign. Something about the strokes, the deliberate yet hurried way certain characters were formed, sent a shiver down her spine.
Then she read the first few lines.
A warning. A dire future laid out before her in words so certain, so precise, that she'd almost see it unfolding.
Her life was going to end, and it was none other than Wei Wuxian’s fault.
Yanli didn’t know who the author was, but something deep inside her, something instinctual, whispered that it must be true. A part of her rebelled against the idea—how could someone possibly know so much about the future? But another voice, cold and panicked, reminded her of her mother’s warnings.
Wei Wuxian will bring disaster to our doorstep.
Her mother had said it time and time again. His presence in the clan undermined everything they stood for. No one could stop him from following in his parents' footsteps.
Jiang Yanli swallowed hard, her hands tightening around the parchment. Could she trust this? Was it real?
Her heartbeat rising, she stood. She needed someone to tell her what to do—someone she could trust. But who? Who would believe her? Who wouldn’t dismiss her as paranoid?
For once, the uncomfortable thought of her engagement wasn’t the first thing on her mind. But if the letter was to be believed, then her future was secure, Jin Zixuan would marry her. She would have everything she had been promised since childhood.
That was enough.
With her mind made up, Jiang Yanli left her room, almost running down the hallway to find her younger brother.
Inside the Ancestral Hall, the scent of burning incense filled the air, thick and heavy. Wei Wuxian shifted on his knees, stretching his legs slightly to relieve the growing numbness. He'd lost count of how long he'd been there—long enough for the golden light of morning to turn into the deep orange of late afternoon.
It wasn’t the first time Madam Yu had punished him like this, and it wouldn’t be the last. His back still stung from the strikes of the discipline whip, but he had learned to ignore the pain, to pretend it didn’t bother him.
What bothered him more was the silence.
Lotus Pier was never truly quiet, there was always the distant chatter of disciples, the rhythmic splash of water against wooden pillars, the call of birds over the lake. But today, something felt… off.
A strange prickle ran down his spine.
Wei Wuxian turned his head slightly, glancing over his shoulder. The empty hall behind him was bathed in the dim glow of flickering lanterns, their shadows stretching across the wooden floor. Nothing seemed out of place, and yet…
His gaze lowered to the small altar in front of him, the names of past Jiang ancestors carved into the wooden plaques.
He had never been superstitious, but an uneasy feeling settled in his chest.
Like he was being watched.
Exhaling sharply, Wei Wuxian shook his head, forcing a grin onto his face. "A-Ying, you’re thinking too much," he muttered to himself, shifting again to get comfortable. "Madam Yu probably hit you a little too hard this time."
Still, as he lowered his head, a quiet thought whispered at the back of his mind.
Something has changed.
"Didi."
Without waiting for an answer, Jiang Yanli barged in after knocking twice on the door. The messy room wasn't a surprise, but the future Sect Leader of the Jiang Clan sitting on his bed with red eyes was.
"He did it again, Jiejie," Jiang Cheng mumbled, his voice thick with frustration. His tear-streaked face was blotchy, his fists clenched in his lap. "Why can’t I beat him? He’s always slacking, running around playing with the other disciples, but somehow he always wins." That wasn't uncommon. Ever since their father took Wei Wuxian in from the streets, Jiang Cheng had struggled with having competition. It wasn’t that he lacked talent, but he had been raised to be the best. Wei Wuxian—capable, brilliant, reckless—made that difficult.
Madam Yu never let them slack, comparing them to every member of the gentry, and they were never good enough in her eyes. Yanli was used to smoothing things over between her younger brothers, but now she had no reason to stop her didi vent.
Let him decompress, let him stew in his resentment. It would only serve her purpose.
"It's alright A-Cheng," The soothing words left her mouth as she stepped between his legs, caressing his head with a maternal touch. "Niang punished him in the Ancestral Hall."
Normally, those words were enough to calm him. But deep down, she knew she couldn’t keep repeating them, couldn’t keep hoping that his sense of injustice would fade when Wei Wuxian only kept growing stronger and better.
Even if the letter she received was a lie, Yanli needed to protect her brother's legacy, his birth right, his peace of mind. Not when her survival depended on his family and position, for him to renegotiate the conditions of her engagement. Or even better, not letting Wei Wuxian broke it on the first place.
Her survival depended on it. Their family’s stability depended on it. Jiang Cheng’s position was crucial—he needed to be strong enough to renegotiate the conditions of her engagement… or, better yet, to prevent Wei Wuxian from breaking it in the first place.
She couldn’t tell Jiang Cheng about the letter. Not yet. But as she sat beside him, letting him fume, an idea began to take shape.
Wei Wuxian would have to sacrifice himself in the near future.
He was the key to unlocking Jiang Cheng’s potential. The one who would ensure the strength of their family.
Even if it meant giving up his Golden Core again.
Everything was going to change. But she still had a few years to set her plan in motion.
Perhaps her father hadn’t known what he was doing when he brought the boy home.
But Jiang Yanli did.
She would use him and the knowledge she now had to keep their family safe.
A shield for her brother and the clan. A sword to fight for them.
A servant willing to sacrifice his life, body, and soul for their sake.
Jiang Yanli sat still, the letter pressing against her palm, its weight far heavier than it should be. The words refused to leave her mind, lingering like an echo she couldn’t ignore.
Wei Wuxian would bring ruin. Wei Wuxian would have to sacrifice himself.
She'd always known he was different—too reckless, too brilliant, too uncontrollable. A wildfire that couldn’t be tamed. And now, she had proof that one day, he would burn everything down. Unless she stopped it.
Her fingers tightened around the parchment, the smooth surface creasing under her grip. This knowledge was a gift. A warning. A chance to act before it was too late.
Beside her, Jiang Cheng was still grumbling, lost in his own frustration, unaware of how much had just changed. He didn’t need to know. Not yet.
Outside, the lake shimmered under the sun, the lotus blossoms swaying gently with the wind, as if nothing had changed. As if the future hadn’t already begun to shift. Jiang Yanli took a slow breath, slipping the letter into her sleeve.
She had time.
And she would make sure everything fell into place.