«It's an endless night, It's a starless sky
It's a hell that I call home (hell that I call home)
It's a long goodbye on the other side
Of the only life I know»
Jiang Cheng - courtesy name Jiang Wanyin - is the youngest child and heir of Lotus Pier...
Everyone stared at the screen, searching for answers—anything that might hint at the future that could make two sect leaders look so shaken. Some were still turning over everything they had seen so far, weighing what it meant for each person in the room… and what it meant for the complicated ties between Lan Wangji, Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue, and the children Jiang Wanyin would one day bear.
“I will now be showing you some images,” Xie Lian announced. “And I will also be taking her with me.”
Before anyone could react, he lifted a hand. A burst of pale divine light filled the room— and Jiang Cheng vanished.
“A-Cheng!” Jiang Yanli cried, voice cracking as she shot to her feet.
She was not alone. Jiang Fengmian, Yu Ziyuan, and Wei Wuxian all rose in unison, fury radiating off them in waves. Even several elders from other sects stiffened, hands inching toward weapons or talismans.
“Where did you take her?” Wei Wuxian demanded, struggling not to let his core's energy spike.
“I have taken her to a different room,” Xie Lian said calmly—almost gently. But when he saw they didn’t understand, he continued, voice softer, heavier. “You will be shown things from now and from the future. And I can assure you… the girl will not want to witness this part.”
Those in the room who could not hide their emotions glanced around sharply—nervous, startled, afraid.
The ones who could maintain their composure did so with rigid posture and carefully blank expressions, but inside, every one of them wondered.
What could possibly be so terrible—or so personal—that a god deemed Jiang Cheng unfit to remain in the room?
Xie Lian raised his hand again. His eyes were sad, almost pitying.
“The first image,” he said, “will begin now.”
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
–A Member of a minor sect used this to describe Jiang Chang, she waseighteen
Yu Ziyuan’s eyes narrowed to slits as the words appeared on the screen—Filled with poison but blessed with beauty and rage— a stranger’s judgment of her daughter at only eighteen.
“Who does he think he is,” she asked, voice cold enough to freeze stone.
A tremor went through the room. Everyone felt the danger laced beneath her words—the kind that preceded storms and shattered swords.
“She,” Xie Lian corrected calmly.
“Pardon me?” Jiang Yanli spoke up before her mother could, staring at the god in disbelief. The idea that a woman would say such a thing about another woman—about A-Cheng, who already faced more scrutiny than most—was difficult to grasp.
Across the room, Wen Qing, Luo Qingyang, and Qin Su exchanged stunned looks. Women knew how hard the world was for them. Why would one tear another down so viciously?
