aviansoph archive

fanwork page



[fic] Artifice and Affectation

20 October 2024

This fic is also on AO3, if you find it easier to read there

Fandom: TGCF
Focus: Ling Wen, Shi Qingxuan, Pei Ming
Setting: canon era
Length: 3,756 words

Themes:

everything is about gender, except gender which is about the stultifying never-changing nature of heaven; nobody’s explicitly trans in this, but there sure are a lot of trans themes and characters who I think are trans in this story, whether they know it about themselves or not

Summary:

Ling Wen had never bothered to attend the Festival of Female Gods before. She spent a lot of time in her female form and didn’t see what the big deal was. This year, Shi Qingxuan wouldn’t let Ling Wen skip attending.

Foreword:

thank you to verity for cheerleading and roland for betaing - your assistance helped this fic be its best self!


Fic:

Ling Wen had never bothered to attend the Festival of Female Gods before. She spent a lot of time in her female form and didn’t see what the big deal was. Besides, if she wanted to watch gods acting stupid around beautiful ladies, all she had to do was accompany Pei Ming on a visit to the mortal realm. The behaviour of gods around beautiful women was irritating to watch, whether the women were mortals or gods themselves.

This year, Shi Qingxuan wouldn’t let Ling Wen skip attending. “It’ll be fun, Ling-jie!” he wheedled. “The rest of the year I can only ever convince Ming-xiong to join me. This is the one night we all get to have fun together! Come on, don’t you want to see lao Pei as a woman, at least?”

Ling Wen did, she was willing to admit. Pei Ming stripped of his masculinity was a rare sight.

Shi Qingxuan cheered, then immediately pressed his luck. He could never help himself. “What are you going to wear, Ling-jie? You would look so good in a brighter colour! Of course you are always striking and impressive, but just think! The effect of a soft palette, in comparison with your usual look, would really make you stand out! And your skin is so beautifully clear...with a very cute blush, actually. You must let me do your makeup, anyone else would ruin the effect.”

“Absolutely not,” Ling Wen snapped. She could feel the heat of her blush on her cheeks. Shi Qingxuan certainly had an eye for a good outfit, but Ling Wen would be wearing her usual scholar’s robes, not whatever fashion Shi Qingxuan was trying to press on her. And he would not be touching her face.

Ling Wen had lived through enough expectations of appearance from Jing Wen.

Shi Qingxuan, undaunted, followed Ling Wen into her palace, chatting about ways that Ling Wen could add some interest to her usual look if she was going to be so stubborn. “A green belt, maybe, or a warm gold guan with jade decorations, some more jewellery, at least something, Ling-jie!”

“Why aren’t you bothering Lord Water Master about his outfit instead?” Ling Wen asked sharply. Shi Wudu never went to the Festival of Female Gods, which was a sore spot for Shi Qingxuan.

As intended, Shi Qingxuan subsided, his energy dampened. “Oh, you know ge won’t ever listen to me about the importance of participating in this festival,” he said with a strained smile. “And I’ve already told Ming-xiong exactly what he ought to wear, so he’s sorted. He always looks good, though, even when he doesn’t follow my advice. His taste is so developed!” Shi Qingxuan brightened again. “That’s why I came to help you! Your friends won’t be any good giving you advice on dressing for this kind of occasion, whereas I have plenty of practice.”

Well, that was certainly true. Shi Qingxuan was well practised both at giving unasked-for advice and at dressing as a woman.

By this point Ling Wen had led Shi Qingxuan to her favourite courtyard, with plum trees and a decorative pond. Shi Wudu thought the pond a ridiculous affectation, the water so tamed and lifeless, but Ling Wen liked to watch her golden koi complacently swim through the pond’s peaceful, bounded waters.

Shi Qingxuan didn’t even seem to notice the presence of the pond.

“At least tell me whether you plan to make even a single change from your usual look!” Shi Qingxuan begged. Ling Wen ignored him. Her assistants had set out a table for her by the pond, piled high with paperwork that needed addressing. She lowered herself down to sit at the table, arranging her clothing tidily about her, and picked up the nearest scroll. A report on the case of a yao causing problems by a village’s main well, which was dealt with recently by Pei Xiu. Ling Wen settled in to read. Shi Qingxuan would get bored and leave her be eventually.

Shi Qingxuan kept talking, but Ling Wen let herself focus in on her work until nothing existed for her but the papers on her desk and the notes she wrote. Shi Qingxuan was impetuous and pushy, but not a danger to her, not someone who required her to divide her attention and keep a wary eye out. When Ling Wen finally looked up from the bottom of the current stack of work, she was alone in the courtyard and the light was dimming.

Had the party started already? Most certainly. But Ling Wen wasn’t interested in appearing prompt and eager. She already had problems with other heavenly officials associating her too much with femininity. She would just put in a brief appearance, laugh at Pei-jie, pay her respects to the Heavenly Empress Jun Wu, and return to her palace. Tomorrow, Ling Wen’s desk would be drowning in reports from her middle court deputies with details on all the gossip, the worthwhile and the merely prurient. She didn’t need to witness the action for herself.

Standing carefully, Ling Wen stretched out her arms and legs, wrists and fingers. She was cramped up after spending hours sitting in one place. Too easy to forget about her body as she focused on her work. As if on cue, her oft-present migraine began to pound with higher intensity.

Maybe it would be better to stay home in her dark and quiet office, just Ling Wen and her scrolls.

Ling Wen pinched the bridge of her nose and looked into her pond. One of the fish, a golden koi with a smear of white along its dorsal fin, swam closer. Hoping for food. Well, it was out of luck. Ling Wen spun on the balls of her feet and glided indoors, calling softly for an assistant to bring her tea, made of fresh green buds. Sometimes tea helped.

The skill to make and drink tea properly was one Ling Wen had developed laboriously under the particular tastes of Jing Wen. Sometimes it was a peaceful and pleasant ritual, something she’d repurposed for herself after Jing Wen’s fall, but tonight Ling Wen didn’t have the patience to monitor water temperature and count out the times for a progression of steeps. She examined her clothing options as she drank. Each time she poured from the gaiwan into her tea cup, she knocked back the bitter, over-steeped results, cup after cup.

Wearing Bai Jin was one option. He would be delighted to accompany her tonight, but she would outshine all the others at this silly party if she allowed him to be her outfit. Ling Wen had no desire to encourage people to see her as a social threat.

Ah, why was she letting Shi Qingxuan get to her? She didn’t need to dress any differently for this festival than any other moderately formal occasion. Her nicer black robes with embroidered trim and a matching belt, a guan of jet, and she was ready.

The festival didn’t officially mandate a gathering; the core of the celebration was merely that on this day each year, a god’s followers would worship that god in their female form, no matter whether they were usually considered to be male or female. But many years ago a tradition began in heaven. If you wanted to spend time mingling with other gods on this day, just go to the palace of Li Jingwei. Li Jingwei would be sumptuously dressed in female clothing she only wore this one day a year, would be a gregarious and welcoming host, and would be entirely discreet. Soon it was established that if you didn’t attend these parties, it was a sign you were a nobody in heaven.

Li Jingwei had long since waned in power and become a nobody himself, but by that time the tradition was well established. The party merely moved from Li Jingwei’s palace to the palace of Ming Guang. Pei Ming had the resources to host – and he loved to admire pretty women, without caring to be too specific about the details.

Pei Ming really was hopeless. His behaviour with women would get him in trouble someday, and Ling Wen would be there to laugh.

Some gods had sufficient social clout to safely stay at home each year when the time came to be worshipped in female form for a day, and some gods didn’t care about their position in heaven’s social hierarchy. But everybody else had to at least put in a brief appearance. Even Jun Wu always attended, radiant in golden armour specifically fashioned to show off her shapely physique.

As Ling Wen walked up to lao Pei’s palace, the sound of high-pitched giggling and soft conversation floated to her on the night breeze. The laughter sounded false; forced. Gods who were born and raised male weren’t practiced at using the higher parts of their vocal registers, and many of them overdid it to the point of parody whenever they tried to sound feminine.

Why was she here again?

“Ling-jie!” Shi Qingxuan cheered. Shi Qingxuan split off from the crowd she was chatting with as soon as Ling Wen entered. “You made it! You look so good! Even if you didn’t let me help you,” she added reproachfully.

Shi Qingxuan looked comfortably resplendent, with a sparkle in her eye and a smile broadening her winsome face. She was dressed tonight in an ensemble that highlighted her youthful girlishness, light and elegant, covered with delicate embroidery in a design which matched the golden longevity locket around her neck.

“It was no trouble to choose my own outfit,” Ling Wen said. She felt exhausted already.

The group of gods Shi Qingxuan had been chatting with didn’t look like it held anyone Ling Wen personally knew or cared about. A bunch of nobodies trying to win favour from the Shi siblings through Shi Qingxuan, probably. Ling Wen had seen it before, many times over the years.

“You’re being no fun.” Shi Qingxuan pouted a little, cutely, looking up at Ling Wen with big eyes. She was very good at it. Ling Wen sighed.

“Where’s Pei-jie?”

“Oh!” Quickly brightening, Shi Qingxuan gestured vaguely behind herself. “I saw lao Pei over there talking with her descendant, Pei....Pei whatever it is.”

“Pei Xiu,” Ling Wen prompted.

“Right! Pei Xiu. The two Peis.” She laughed. “Have fun!” Shi Qingxuan winked and swanned back over to join her previous circle.

Ling Wen considered her lingering migraine, which the tea hadn’t reduced at all. The palace gardens, where the party was taking place, were tastefully lit, and nobody was being too raucous yet – but fireworks were likely to be put on display at some point. She hoped it would be after she left.

Well, she might as well get her prize for coming tonight. Ling Wen looked around. Where was Pei Ming?

When Ling Wen finally found Pei Ming, she was no longer talking to Pei Xiu, like Shi Qingxuan had seen, though of course Pei Xiu was still hovering anxiously just behind her venerated ancestor.

This one was not Ling Wen’s favourite of the various deputies Pei-jie had worked her way through over the centuries. Pei Xiu seemed to have no interest in having a personality of her own and it was irritating to watch her defer endlessly to Pei Ming. Pei-jie needed to be kept on her toes to keep her ego in check. But Pei Xiu would never talk back to her benefactress, the one who maintained her position as a middle court official. Pei Xiu was endlessly, painfully grateful. She needed to learn to develop a backbone.

Even worse than Pei Xiu, though: Pei Ming was talking with Jun Wu. Pei Ming was, in fact, flirting with Jun Wu.

Ling Wen’s first instinct was to turn right back around and find somewhere else to go at this joke of a party, but she was arrested by the sight of Pei Ming in her female form.

Pei Ming was always male for every other occasion; Ling Wen had never seen her like this before. Pei Ming made a strikingly handsome woman, Ling Wen was disappointed to discover.

“You would look so nice in a more dainty outfit,” Pei Ming was saying to Jun Wu with a smile. Ling Wen stayed where she was. She did not need to interrupt whatever was going to happen here.

Jun Wu looked the ideal of a martial empress, resplendent and shining and powerful. She blinked slowly, unimpressed. “Oh?” she said to Pei Ming, in a tone that did not welcome further comment.

Undeterred, Pei Ming continued. She leaned in closer to Jun Wu, her stance open and inviting. “For instance,” Pei Ming said, in a low, warm voice, “have you considered –”

Jun Wu smilingly interrupted Pei Ming. “It’s very kind of Ming Guang to consider my appearance, but I don’t think these ideas would present the correct image for this occasion. Has Ming Guang considered more dainty attire for herself instead?”

Pei Ming drew back, surprised. “Come now, my dear, wouldn’t that look a little foolish on me? You’re much more suited to it.” Pei Ming’s look for the evening was elegant, martial, and not feminine in the slightest. Not a traditional look for a female heavenly official, but Pei Ming evidently had no attachment to femininity for herself.

“Excuse me,” Jun Wu said graciously. “I am needed elsewhere. My compliments to you for the well hosted event.” She brushed a loose strand of hair from her face and glided away serenely. Pei Ming, put out, stared after her.

Before Pei Xiu could hurry back in, Ling Wen pounced on the opportunity. “Pei-jie is aiming high, I see,” she said conversationally as she walked up to Pei Ming, who stiffened in surprise before relaxing when she saw who it was. Ling Wen continued. “Too bad Jun Wu knows you too well. You’d better look elsewhere.” That last was said with an eyebrow raised and a tone inflected with sweetly false sympathy.

Pei Ming laughed, a hearty laugh that was entirely unlike the awkward high giggles Ling Wen had been hearing tonight from other heavenly officials. Behind her, Pei Xiu looked horrified. Poor girl, she still hadn’t gotten used to the kind of friendship Pei Ming had with Ling Wen and Shi Wudu.

“How good to see you, Ling Wen,” Pei Ming said. “What a surprise to see you here tonight! I’m glad my humble party tempted you out of your office.”

“It almost didn’t.”

“Ling Wen, Ling Wen, you need to learn to appreciate the finer things in life.” Pei Ming shook her head mournfully. “So many beautiful women here and you don’t want to spend time with any of them?”

“Don’t you think I’m spending time with a beautiful woman right now?” Ling Wen demanded, and was fascinated to see a slight pink spreading across Pei Ming’s cheeks as she spoke.

Silence between them stretched out for a long moment, Pei Ming not taking her turn in the back-and-forth of conversation. Could it be – lao Pei showing an actual vulnerability and emotion? Ling Wen wanted to know more. “Pei-jie, I can’t be the first person to call you a beautiful woman!”

Pei Ming laughed, but it came out awkwardly, remarkably unlike her previous open and unselfconscious laughter. “As long as the ladies like me, that’s what matters!” she said. She bowed to Ling Wen, a shallow and incomplete show of respect. “So I will thank Ling Wen for her insights and compliments.”

On the other side of Pei Ming, Pei Xiu looked like she wanted to be listening to any other conversation than this one. Behind Pei Xiu, a few other gods were walking by, taking tiny steps and holding each other’s arms and laughing with each other with high-pitched excitement. One of them had plans to hook up with a particular middle court official later in the evening, and her friends had a great deal of overly-invested curiosity.

Ling Wen sighed. Her head still ached. Pei Ming was acting oddly and she did not have the patience right now to dig out of Pei-jie whatever was going on.

This wasn’t the right environment to get Pei Ming really talking anyway. “Whatever you say, Pei-jie,” Ling Wen finally said – in a mocking tone, because she couldn’t help herself.

Pei Ming, determinedly superior, crossed her arms. The position accented her generous breasts, which Ling Wen’s eyes tracked down to. Presented with breasts like those, Ling Wen had an obligation to admire, even if the breasts happened to belong to Pei Ming.

Never mind. “I’m leaving now,” Ling Wen announced. Pei Ming protested: Ling Wen had just arrived, she hadn’t taken any refreshments yet, she ought to enjoy mingling with the other guests, surely she could stay until the fireworks display?

Ling Wen firmly declined.

The gardens were filling up with guests. Ling Wen’s arrival hadn’t been early, but even now the party continued to expand, people arriving in small groups of twos or threes, and an occasional cheerful pack descending upon the space all together.

As she made her way back towards the main entrance, Ling Wen was surrounded by elaborately dressed female heavenly officials, talking and posing and giggling, gesturing dramatically. She could hear snippets of irritating conversation and ridiculous compliments. They were all behaving as if the whole thing was an amusing step outside of reality.

Moonlight shining through the trees, music drifting on the wind, the cool of the night air on the face – the perfect atmosphere for a celebration. Ling Wen was in no mood to appreciate the ambience as she stepped over the threshold and back outside her friend’s palace.

Shi Qingxuan would be disappointed in Ling Wen, but Shi Qingxuan would be better off for some practice at not getting everything she wanted.

What a waste of time to have come here. Ling Wen could have been at home, alone, peacefully attending to her work, nobody making a mockery of what it meant to be a female heavenly official.

The guests at Pei Ming’s party, and Pei Ming herself, had fun playacting once a year. Tomorrow they would all go back to being men, carelessly overlooking Ling Wen and the few other female gods due to their gender.

Sometimes Ling Wen was tempted to switch to her male form full time and be done with the whole business.

She wouldn’t be the first god to make that choice.

How fast all the other gods could forget! The records contained in Ling Wen’s palace would astonish the whole heavens, if it ever became relevant information to share.

As Ling Wen turned down the magnificent avenues of heaven to return to her palace, the relative quiet and darkness she walked through was soothing. Nobody else was around. Either you were at Pei Ming’s party, or you were busy in the mortal realm, or you were a homebody tucked up in your own palace for a quiet night in.

A sudden patter of feet, and the clang of sword on sword, to Ling Wen’s left. She revised her opinion on the activity of the streets. Some idiots had gotten into a fight in the dark late hours.

As they came closer, the fighting figures resolved themselves into Generals Nan Yang and Xuan Zhen, shouting something at each other about the point, or lack thereof, of the Festival of Female Gods. Ling Wen sighed. Martial gods were all alike, insecure idiots who constantly needed to defend their masculinity, and these two more than most. Unsurprising that they didn’t attend Pei Ming’s party.

Nan Yang didn’t even notice Ling Wen passing by, focused as he was on his opponent, but Xuan Zhen’s gaze flickered towards her. More than most gods, he noticed the existence of people below him in the hierarchy; the attention unsettled Ling Wen, who was used to being complacently ignored except when needed.

Xuan Zhen’s attention was only on Ling Wen for a brief moment. Nan Yang called him a rude name, and he turned his full focus back to the fight.

Ling Wen had seen these two crossing swords endless times over the centuries, and she wasn’t sure why they even bothered anymore. What could they gain?

One of Ling Wen’s middle court officials, Ma Zhongfu, was an eager person who wished desperately to be a martial god despite having none of the qualifications. He had made a personal project of documenting every one of the fights between Xuan Zhen and Nan Yang, physical or verbal. Ling Wen doubted that the fight data would ever be useful, but the keeping of it would certainly infuriate the two generals if they ever found out. This was use enough to be worth keeping the information in her archive, and allowing Ma Zhongfu to maintain an ongoing record.

Ling Wen moved past tonight’s street-fight without turning her head. Let Xuan Zhen think she considered him and his opponent beneath her notice. She would pass on what she noticed of the fight to her obsessed little underling, who would be grateful for every detail.

When Ling Wen arrived back at her palace, she paused a moment at her threshold. Her head was throbbing and she was exhausted, but overhead the stars glittered beautifully in their endless slow predictable dance across the sky. Ling Wen leaned against her door and turned her face up to the stars.

Alone again. Ling Wen, supported by a palace full of knowledge, could do anything she wanted. But the heavens were what the heavens were, each god predictable and unchanging. Even a festival like the Festival of Female Gods wouldn’t alter any god’s course. Ling Wen, too, couldn’t be anything but herself.

Closing her eyes, Ling Wen pushed these thoughts aside. The drag of her heavy robes, the pinched tightness of her hair in its guan, the ache of her feet. She was here, a member of the upper court, trusted by all. She’d made it. No smugly superior male god could force her into anything she didn’t want to do.

Ling Wen flicked her eyes open once more, and pushed the door aside. She stepped over the threshold, disappearing into the inky blackness of her palace, the door shutting firmly behind her.

In her palace, surrounded by her records, Ling Wen could focus again, remember what really mattered. She didn’t need anybody. She wasn’t trapped here, like the koi in her pond.

Ling Wen had her own kind of power.


Comments:

I don't yet have commenting set up on my site so if you want to leave a comment, please go to the AO3 version of this fic.