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It is mid-summer when the war ends, the sun beating hot and heavy upon them as they make the long trek back to Yunmeng from the warfront. Safe towns that have viable inns for hosting even a portion of the Jiang contingent are few and far between, and as such, Jiang Cheng takes very little convincing to prompt a break in Yiling when they come across it during their travels.
It is, Jiang Yanli thinks as she sneaks out of the inn that night, a blessing that her brothers always seem to take her at her word. They ask no questions when she sighs and holds a hand to her forehead as soon as she catches sight of the outline of Yiling, and they do not suspect anything is amiss when she excuses herself early to bed.
Wen Qing’s Yiling post had been decommissioned a long while ago, of this Jiang Yanli is certain. And the letters that have found her across the varied battlefronts since have all been…cryptic, at best, with regards to their anonymous sender’s location. But she is confident in her readings of them, and if she is right, she will find what she’s looking for tonight.
Under the cover of night, Jiang Yanli finds herself on the outskirts of Yiling, standing in front of a small inconspicuous home. There is candlelight illuminating the main room inside, casting the shadow of a single person’s outline in the fabric window screens.
She knocks once, and the outline stills. A long moment passes where neither of them move, until Jiang Yanli moves to knock again. The door slides open with a soft, hesitant creak, and a figure stands silhouetted in the soft wash of candlelight. There is a pause, a breath held in anticipation. Then the figure steps forward, into the wan moonlight.
"Wen Qing," Jiang Yanli's voice breaks through the silence, her voice warm even as Wen Qing stares back at her, expression carefully guarded.
After a long moment, Wen Qing sighs, the corners of her mouth tugging up into what might be fondness or resignation—it is hard to tell in the pale light.
“It is too late for you to be wandering out on your own,” Wen Qing says, and Jiang Yanli simply smiles.
“May I come in?”
That Wen Qing lets her through the door is a good sign that tonight will work out the way Jiang Yanli hopes it will. The small note Wen Qing makes about her brother being asleep in the next room over adds to this - if Wen Ning is also here, safe and sound, Wen Qing will be much easier to convince.
An offer of tea and short, well-practiced pleasantries later, Jiang Yanli finds herself sitting on a worn mat at the edge of the home’s small kitchen with only a small kneeling table between them.
It is not long, then, before Wen Qing breaks the careful atmosphere settled over them.
“I know you have not come here to visit,” She says, as she pours herself another cup of tea, “Spare me the time of having to pull it from you.”
At this, Jiang Yanli lets out a soft, fond laugh. “Always straight to the point with you.”
Wen Qing hums, her gaze intent, as if attempting to see the core of Jiang Yanli’s very being.
“The war is over. My brothers and I are returning home,” Jiang Yanli begins, and she watches as Wen Qing’s hand stills on her cup, “Come with us.”
A long, heavy silence hangs between them, the only sound is the crackling of a burning candle and the soft whistling of wind outside. Jiang Yanli keeps her gaze steady on Wen Qing, not daring to break the silence. She watches as Wen Qing's expression flickers in the candlelight, the glimmering shadows painting an array of emotions across her face.
Finally, Wen Qing lets out a small sigh, setting her cup down with a gentle clink against the wooden table. She leans back on her heels, pressing her lips into a thin line as she meets Jiang Yanli's gaze.
“It is not so simple.” Wen Qing says.
Jiang Yanli hums, as if considering this, and then she reaches over the table to take Wen Qing’s hand in her own, “Perhaps it can be.”
The war has taken much from all of them. But even having suffered such a great loss, her brothers rarely deny her anything. If she asks for it, and it is within their power, Jiang Yanli will have what she wants.
And what she wants, now, is to see Wen Qing safe in her chambers in Lotus Pier.
It is the least she can do for all the kindness Wen Qing has shown her - for her shelter and her care after she and her brothers had lost everything, for her insight passed along in sparse unsigned letters delivered to Jiang Yanli’s healing tents on the warfront. But this, Jiang Yanli knows, is not what has brought her here tonight. No, it is something much more selfish than that.
She tightens her hand around Wen Qing’s, and leans further over the table, her gaze unwavering.
“Perhaps it will be.” Jiang Yanli says, and she lays Wen Qing’s hand on her chest, just above where her heart beats like a small caged bird, “I ask that you trust me, just once.”
Wen Qing stares at their intertwined hands, a mixture of emotions crossing her face. "Trust is a scarce commodity these days," she says softly, her voice barely more than a whisper in the quiet room. She is hesitant, but Jiang Yanli can see her softening as she turns the idea over in her head.
"But," Wen Qing continues, her voice steady as she twists her hand to intertwine their fingers, "As these times are unstable, it would be unwise to turn down such an offer, would it not? We are unmoored, and though we are hidden now, that may not always be the case," She raises her gaze then, her eyes shining with a mixture of understanding and something else.
"Yes," Jiang Yanli’s voice is soft against the hum of the night, a comforting murmur that threads through Wen Qing’s thoughts, tugging at the edges of her resolve.
Wen Qing’s gaze drops to focus on their hands once more, and then she closes her eyes for a long moment, “Very well, then.”
A spark of hope that ignites under the moonlight streaming through the open window, and Jiang Yanli can’t help the quiet anticipation that weaves it’s way into her chest, curling around her heart like a wayward sun-starved vine.