It's when Jin Ling wanders that he might hear something... familiar. Or almost familiar. Cadences of a voice not speaking quite like Jin Guangyao, but with familiarity: toward the guest quarters of Gusu Lan, those courtyards to house the visitors of other sects who ranked high and were not simply attending for their finishing educations, that tradition restored after the war broke its back.

If he goes closer, he'll recognise some of the colours, the clothing, on these people who are as evidently dragons as Jingyi has been: two men, a woman, and a small child held in the woman's arms, tail drooping in their slumber.

The woman speaks, and the men listen, one of them stepping closer to stand at her shoulder and look down at the face of the sleeping child while the other man bows to them, indicating their rank being higher, their honours properly due, before he retreats.

"Ah-Xuan, she looks just like you when she sleeps."

"I sleep?"

Jiang Yanli, head turned to look up at her husband and father of all five of her children, smiles, laughing in a soft, warm way.

"More than I do, and that's good. You've needed it lately."