Where the Tea Wasn’t the Problem

The courtyard was quiet—bathed in warm afternoon light, the air rich with the scent of magnolia and freshly brewed tea. Gu Wenxin sat beneath the parasol tree she'd trimmed with trembling hands only a year ago. Today, those hands were steady. Her posture was graceful, her eyes calm… but no less sharp.

Across from her sat Nalan Yanran. Teacup in hand. Spine straight.

Poised.

Yet the tension clinging to her shoulders was unmistakable. Like a bowstring drawn, waiting to release.

No servants.

No Xiao Yan.

No audience.

Just the two women, at last, facing each other.

Gu Wenxin poured a second cup and set it before her.

> "So," she began, voice like aged wine, "you finally made good on your promise. Brought the tea. Wore soft colors. No armor, no shoulder spikes."

Yanran blinked—then let out a soft laugh. "You remembered?"

"I read that letter enough times to recite it backward. Your handwriting could make a scrollmaster weep."

Nalan Yanran lowered her gaze with a breath of humility. "I meant every word I wrote."

Gu Wenxin studied her, long and unblinking, before giving a slight nod. "I know."

She took a slow sip, then added, "More importantly, I heard what you said when those moss-eating elders tried twisting your visit into some clan-saving transaction."

Yanran's grip tightened slightly. "I wasn't here for them."

"That," Gu Wenxin said simply, "is why I approve."

Yanran blinked. "You… do?"

Gu Wenxin set her cup down, leaned forward just slightly. Her voice dropped lower.

> "Do you think I care whether my son is a Dou Fighter or a cripple? Whether he brings honor to the clan or vanishes from its records?"

> "This past year, he was mocked. Cast aside by children who once worshipped his shadow. But he endured. Quietly. Without complaint. That… is strength no cultivation realm measures."

Yanran's throat tightened.

Gu Wenxin's tone softened like petals falling into water.

> "And you… came. Not as Yunlan's heir. Not as a prodigy. Just as a girl who still believes in the boy behind the titles."

Yanran flushed—but didn't look away. "I told him I'd drag him back if I had to."

A pause.

Gu Wenxin's lips curved. "Then I suppose I won't need to throw another twig at him."

Yanran grinned. "Good. I was never sure if I was supposed to dodge or bow."

Laughter rose between them—soft, sincere, unguarded.

And in that moment, something quiet and unspoken settled.

A bond formed.

Gu Wenxin leaned back, fingers folding atop her knee.

> "You'll have a hard road, Yanran. The world doesn't look kindly on women who choose love over legacy."

"I'm not walking away," Yanran said. "I never planned to."

Gu Wenxin's smile reached her eyes.

> "Then welcome to the family… daughter-in-law."

Yanran nearly spilled her tea. "Too soon!"

"Too fast," she muttered, hiding behind her cup. "We've skipped at least five character development arcs."

More laughter.

---

They were still sipping quietly when—

Rustle.

From beyond the garden wall came the unmistakable sound of someone crashing through a flowerbed.

Yanran paused mid-sip.

Gu Wenxin arched an eyebrow.

Then—

> "Eeeek!"

A disheveled head popped up from the peonies, dirt-streaked and wide-eyed.

Xiao Ranyu.

"…Hi," he offered sheepishly.

Gu Wenxin's eyes narrowed. "Ranyu. What, precisely, are you doing in my begonias?"

"I—I was just taking a walk! Admiring the local flora. And the, uh… diplomatic discussions between maternal and prospective familial factions."

Yanran choked. "Prospective what?!"

Gu Wenxin smirked. "So—spying."

"I prefer the term culturally relevant reconnaissance."

"And what were you hoping to overhear?"

"Secrets. Drama. Possibly wedding plans. Certainly not tea and emotional maturity."

Just as he brushed petals from his collar—

> "Ranyu?" a voice called from the hedge. Calm. Stern. Familiar.

The gate creaked open.

In stepped Xiao Xun'er—hair gleaming in the light, posture neat, expression teetering between frown and worry.

"I told you not to vanish when I—"

She stopped.

Three pairs of eyes turned.

Gu Wenxin.

Nalan Yanran.

Xiao Ranyu.

Xun'er blinked, then bowed flawlessly. "Apologies. I was looking for… Xiao Ranyu."

Gu Wenxin raised a brow.

Nalan Yanran tilted her head. Interest gleamed like a sword half-drawn.

She had prepared for battle, not a family tea ceremony.

Ranyu muttered, "This isn't just any courtyard."

Xun'er frowned. "It's not?"

"…It's my mother's courtyard."

Pause.

Xun'er's face turned scarlet—tea leaves could've steeped in her blush.

"W-WHAT?!"

Gu Wenxin chuckled. "So you're the one who's been circling my youngest like a hawk pretending to be a butterfly."

"I—I—he's annoying! I mean young! I mean—he has potential—I didn't mean—!"

Yanran grinned. "Look at that. She's boiling. Someone pass the kettle."

"I AM NOT!"

Xiao Ranyu edged back. "Abort mission. We are under social fire!"

The teasing rolled in like thunderclouds:

Gu Wenxin: "How long have you two been training partners? Five years? In some provinces, that's called engagement."

Xun'er exploded. "WE! ARE! NOT!"

Ranyu groaned. "Even the koi pond won't wash this shame away."

Yanran: "Younger boy. Older girl. Secret courtyard meetings. Ranyu, you rogue."

Gu Wenxin added sweetly, "Xun'er, you have my blessing. He's stubborn, but I raised him with all his shots. Mostly."

"PLEASE STOP TALKING!" Xun'er cried, hands over her face.

---

Xiao Ranyu's Inner Monologue

> Laugh while you can.

One day… I'll rewrite this whole farce.

Win Yun Yun's heart.

Change the fate that shackled us all.

And you'll be the ones choking on tea.

…Sorry, third brother. Greatness demands sacrifices.

He sighed… and brushed a stubborn petal from his brow.

---

The sun slanted gold across the courtyard as the laughter calmed. Tea refilled. The air softened.

Then—

> "Say, Ranyu," Yanran asked lightly, "what kind of girls do you like?"

Xiao Xun'er froze mid-sip.

Gu Wenxin leaned forward. "Yes. Enlighten us. Your type?"

Xiao Ranyu tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm… I like girls who are quiet—but brave. Smart, but kind. Pretty, but not vain. Strong enough to fight beside me. Maybe a little older. Maybe a little dangerous."

Xun'er's hand froze mid-cup, her eyes flicking toward him—just once.

Then he ruined it.

"I like all kinds, honestly. Might just marry a few. I'll… figure it out as I go."

Clink.

Xun'er set her teacup down. Very gently.

Then stood.

"…I remembered I have plants to water."

Gu Wenxin: "Mm."

Yanran: "Of course."

Ranyu: "But you didn't finish your—was it the tea?"

Xun'er glanced once, the flicker in her eyes already fading.

> "It definitely wasn't the tea."

She bowed. Left without another word.

Only the women noticed the flicker of sadness in her eyes.

---

Ranyu stared after her. "She left kinda fast…"

Yanran: "Aunt Wenxin, did you hear something?"

Gu Wenxin, dry as winter bark: "No idea. Certainly not the sound of a heart being stepped on by a donkey."

Yanran turned. "You're a blockhead."

Gu Wenxin: "A socially unsupervised blockhead."

Ranyu: "WHAT DID I DO?!"

They answered by taking an arm each—then—

THUMP.

He landed outside the courtyard gate.

Voices echoed from inside:

> Yanran: "Stay out until you figure out what you said wrong!"

Gu Wenxin: "And write me an essay: Why Girls Are Not Sword Manuals You Can Collect."

Gu Wenxin (after a pause): "Use proper paragraph structure."

Xiao Ranyu lay on the grass, blinking at the clouds.

"…Was that romantic sabotage… or just spiritual punishment?"