“Wow that’s a lot of white.” Leaning on a maple, doing his best to be quiet and unobtrusive and out of the way of all the suppressed panicking, Wei Wuxian watched the pomp and circumstances upriver. There were Heralds and Companions all over the place. There were priests of all colors of robes, cotton and linen and practical wool fluttering in the cold wind off the water, waving censers and holy texts. There were reams of gold embroidery, and glints of noon sun from the circlets of the Queen and her Consort, for what could be more important to a true ruler than making sure the center of her very capital was cleansed of resentful energy?
And in the middle of it all were three less than thrilled cultivators in Nie green and Lan white, trying to set up a good, stable formation for when – not if – the waterborne ghosts turned nasty.
“Is that – Bull Rushing?” Wen Ning peeked around the trunk of the tree beside him, shading his eyes with one hand, head tilted like one of the crows being suspiciously quiet in a nearby pine. “I thought that takes four….”
“Looks like Hanguang-jun’s been practicing with Kellen as a backup for qi flow,” Wei Wuxian reflected. “Or I hope he has… eh?”
One familiar priest dressed in quiet cream wool, looking uncertainly around, loosely followed by a gaggle of students in blue and hints of green-
And not all of the blue in the air was light off clothing. Or even visible, to most eyes.
“More air-yaojing,” Wen Ning said softly. “But if they go after magic….”
“Nie Huaisang just looks fluttery,” Wei Wuxian smiled. “When he’s interested in something – and he is interested in cultivating, with anything but the saber – you learn from people who love what they’re doing. You can’t help it.” Stepping out from behind the tree, he waved. “Hello!”
A/N: Warning, this chapter is going to take a long while. Work is exhausting, though I’m trying to get back on a regular schedule of writing.