The charity school's inkstone smelled of crushed sugar. Xue Yang tucked the candy into his silk pouch, eyes lingering on the frost-edged woman in the courtyard.
"Lady Wei," Matron Ming dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, "The Chang Clan was dealt with as ordered. These orphans now sleep with full bellies."
Wei Xuan pressed a jade jar of moisturizing cream into the older woman's calloused hands. "For Zhiyan Pavilion's new branch in Liyang. Consider it market research."
——
Cloud Recesses' gravel path bit into Wei Wuxian's knees. Moonlight carved Lan Wangji's silhouette into marble as he approached.
"You're trembling."
"Not crying!" Wei Wuxian grinned up at his sister instead. Wei Xuan's blade hummed at her hip, its scabbard patterned with frost fractals.
"Time to leave the Jiangs."
——
The Unclean Realm's delegation arrived at dawn. Wei Xuan's voice cut through the conference hall's incense haze:
"Patriarch Jiang, breaking the Jin alliance is unwise." Her fingernails tapped an icy rhythm on the sandalwood table. "Gold feeds your disciples' swords. Tarnish their luster, and watch your clan's honor rust."
Jiang Fengmian's teacup clattered. The frost patterns creeping across its surface mirrored those on Wei Xuan's sleeves.
——
In the ancestral hall, Wei Wuxian burned three sticks of sandalwood incense. The Jiangs' lotus crest blurred behind rising smoke.
"Freedom has its price," Wei Xuan murmured, watching ash fall like dead fireflies.
Her brother's laughter carried autumn's brittleness. "Since when did you become so cynical?"
A snowflake landed on his unbowed neck. The first of the season.