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rosethornewrites · 2 months ago

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Fic: the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break, ch. 25-6

Additional Tags: Pre-Slash, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Secrets, Crying, Masks, Soulmates, Truth, Self-Esteem Issues, Regret, It was supposed to be a one-shot, Fix-It, Eventual Relationships, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, wwx needs a hug, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Filial Piety, Handfasting, Phobias, Sleeping Together, Fear, Panic Attacks, Love Confessions, Getting Together, First Kiss, Kissing, Boys Kissing, Family, and they were married, Bathing/Washing, Hair Braiding, Hair Brushing, Feels, Sex Education, Implied Sexual Content, First Time, Aftercare, Morning After, Afterglow, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Scars, Eventual Happy Ending, Hand Jobs, Chronic Pain, Biting, Conversations, Self-Sacrifice, POV Third Person, POV Lan WangJi, Bugs & Insects, Adoption, Ancestors, Ancestor Veneration, Golden Core Reveal, Top Lan Wangji | Lan Zhan/Bottom Wei Wuxian | Wei Ying, First Time Blow Jobs, Multiple Orgasms, Switching, sex-related injury, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī Stays at the Burial Mounds, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī is a Wèi, Good Sibling Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Disability, Scheming Niè Huáisāng, Disabled Character, somnophilia

Summaries: The swearing of brotherhood and other fluff. Their guests leave, and they get started on the next phase of the plan.

Notes: See end of each chapter

AO3 links: 25 | 26

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

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While his husband and son sleep, Lan Wangji tidies the alcove, putting anything unnecessary into a qiankun pouch for storage. While true cleaning would be more involved, with walls and ceiling stone and the floor dirt-covered stone it is impractical at best. He then settles with another bundle of Wei Ying’s notes, deciphering the messy tangles of thought in rather the same way he tidies Wei Ying’s oft-tangled hair.

He knows Wei Qing expects that he stay close to support Wei Ying, and he’s rather relieved to have an excuse not to need to be present as Jin Zixuan is shown the evidence of his sect’s crimes, as well as the reasons Wei Ying wields resentful energy. Jiang Yanli’s husband is an honorable man, and will no doubt respond favorably, but he doesn’t want to see pity for Wei Ying, or have it directed somehow at him, as though his marriage and Wei Ying himself are somehow lesser for his husband’s suffering. It may well be different; he was stationed elsewhere during the war and thus has little personal knowledge of the Jin heir, but he well remembers the many slights against Wei Ying by ranking members of the Jin sect.

Lan Wangji knows the reactions—the way people look at him differently and Wei Ying’s own swirled mess of emotions about the decision to give Jiang Wanyin his core, is likely why his husband kept it secret. He can’t regret urging him to tell his brother, though, not with Wei Ying looking physically healthier than he has the entire time he’s been here, and that transformation in part because of it, but he wishes others would see Wei Ying for the wonder, the genius he is.

Wei Ying is the first to stir, snuffling a bit in his sleep, and Lan Wangji waits quietly for him to fully wake. When he does, his eyes search the alcove before settling on him, and Lan Wangji is pleased that his husband relaxes upon seeing him.

“You’re probably the only person who could decipher my terrible calligraphy,” Wei Ying says after a moment, his voice fond. “Even me—I think I’ve finished more of my projects because you rewrite my notes!”

While Wei Ying is correct, Lan Wangji knows he is distracting himself from A-Yuan from the way he glances at the boy, as though afraid they might wake him, and afraid that he’ll still be terrified when he wakes. In truth, he is as well, and he’s not certain they have the ability to help their son, short of simply being with him and helping him feel safe. Wei Qing, being a healer, may have more expertise to share later.

“You no longer fail to sleep and forget to eat. You needed balance,” Lan Wangji responds, allowing the distraction for the moment, “and I am happy to help my husband in any way.”

Wei Ying blushes, and he realizes his husband has caught on to his ploy of tiring him with sex to ensure he sleeps.

He is very happy to help him with that, to be fair, even if it wasn’t what he meant this time.

“You bully,” he murmurs, his face flushed fetchingly and what Lan Wangji hears is ‘I love you.’

He can see there are things Wei Ying can never bring himself to say, too affected by sentiment, but he knows anyway. Lan Wangji knows his husband likes to be cared for, that for him physical acts of affection are important, though the words are too much. He knows Wei Ying also likes to show love in this way, giving him what trinkets he can make himself, such as the carved bunny guan, but also with the nontraditional dowry of his talisman inventions, wanting him to feel his worth equivalent to Xiongzhang’s gift of money.

When Wei Ying beckons, Lan Wangji is happy to set aside the work he has done and join him and their son, aware that A-Yuan will likely be fragile when he wakes, that their presence may help him feel safe. Neither of them know how the boy will react, given his earlier terrified meltdown, or whether he can handle the sight of Jin Zixuan even without the zhushazhi.

In truth, Wei Ying also likely needs him, already frazzled as he was with being bared as he was, not only to those visiting the Burial Mounds, but also to all of the jianghu through the yuefu.

Lan Wangji can offer little more than his presence to his husband and son, and hopefully that is enough.

A-Yuan murmurs unintelligibly when Lan Wangji joins them, sandwiching him between them, his sleep momentarily disturbed by the movement, but he doesn’t stir immediately. While they wait, Wei Ying leans his head against his husband’s chest and whisper-babbles about new ideas for inventions, distracting himself as best he can, and Lan Wangji is happy to listen.

Eventually their son wakes, letting out a sound of protest at leaving slumber and burrowing adorably into the area between them. He flails as he wakes enough to remember the circumstances under which he fell asleep, crying about the bad man.

“I’m here, Baobei, you’re safe, I promise,” Wei Ying murmurs, stroking his hair comfortingly. “And your baba won’t let anything happen either. That’s Guma’s husband, remember, the good one I told you about?”

The look A-Yuan gives them is full of doubt, and then he scrambles toward the end of the bed.

“Guma and Popo and Gugu and Bobo—” he rambles, clearly afraid for their safety before pitching off the bed, kept from hitting the hard floor only by Lan Wangji’s quick reflexes.

“Bobo will protect them, and Qing-jie has needles,” Wei Ying tells him, not able to help an involuntary shudder. “No one can beat her and her needles, and I pity the fool who tries.”

A-Yuan still looks uncertain, and Lan Wangji lifts him into his arms.

“We will join everyone shortly, after we straighten your clothing and hair, and you will see they are safe, A-Yuan,” he says, keeping his tone calm and measured.

The boy considers that before nodding—he still looks worried, but he allows them to tidy his hair and put him in new robes, these more formal than the disciple robes, more ornate in a way that seems appropriate for the sworn siblinghood that will hopefully occur.

“He listens to you more than me!” Wei Ying exclaims, looking oddly delighted.

Wei Ying nearly leaves the alcove in his underrobes, stopped only by Lan Wangji, and they find his prior robes marred by snot from A-Yuan’s earlier meltdown. His husband points out he is also similarly afflicted, and they both change, Lan Wangji donning a soft blue robe from the qiankun pouch Xiongzhang brought, while Wei Ying selects another robe Jiang Wanyin sent from his wardrobe, a black robe with purple accents that make it appear as though it shimmers in the dim light of the cave. They tidy each other’s hair, Lan Wangji gently combing Wei Ying’s to some semblance of smooth after his nap, A-Yuan helpfully pointing out places it’s mussed. Wei Ying sighs when he straightens his crown, and Lan Wangji recognizes that this is a day where the hair sits heavy on his head and he would be more comfortable in a braid.

“I will braid your hair tonight,” he murmurs, and Wei Ying pulls him close to share a kiss.

When they rejoin the others in the main hall, they find them all waiting, the positive atmosphere implying Jin Zixuan’s answer, and Lan Wangji lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The swearing of siblinghood will take place shortly, offering Wei Ying and the people here more protection.

A-Yuan hides behind them, peering out at Jin Zixuan suspiciously, and it’s clear the man can tell the boy is still frightened of him and is unsure of what to do; were they in Yiling market, he could do as Lan Wangji had and buy him toys, but the Burial Mounds don’t offer such luxuries. He would recommend such a recourse, and has no doubt Jin Zixuan will send many toys for A-Yuan if he thinks it would help.

Jin Zixuan generally looks overwhelmed, and he’s not quite able to look at Wei Ying, which is preferable to looking at him with pity—his husband does not regret giving Jiang Wanyin his jindan, but he doesn’t like to be seen as piteous, even as he suffers still.

Nie Huaisang takes it upon himself to greet A-Yuan and give him another fan, distracting him by telling him about the motif, and then he manages to coax the boy to sit near him and his brother, who immediately sets the boy on his lap.

“Wei-xiong, Wei-xiong, your shijie brought her whole wedding banquet for later!” the Nie heir exclaims once A-Yuan is settled, ever the one for distraction.

Jiang Yanli giggles at Wei Ying’s incredulous expression.

“It’s not the banquet itself, but I cooked the same dishes for all of you so you can celebrate with A-Xuan and me. It just wasn’t right without my Xianxian.”

Though nothing can make up for missing the wedding, Lan Wangji can see how overcome his husband is by her attempt to bring the wedding feast here to the Burial Mounds.

Jiang Yanli comes to Wei Ying and hugs him, tweaking his nose in a way that makes him laugh.

“Let’s do the ceremony, and then you must call me Jiejie,” she says. “Wei Qing will be Dajie.”

Wei Qing nods in acknowledgement, clearly trying not to smile at their interaction and failing, then tweaks her own brother’s nose almost experimentally, laughing as he blinks, startled.

“It will be a chore to look after our collective didimen,” she says in a voice of exaggerated long-suffering, and Jiang Yanli giggles.

“And yet a fulfilling one,” she adds with a smile, her eyes twinkling even in the dim light. “This meimei will seek to learn from her jiejie.”

Wei Qing can’t hold back a chuckle, looking surprised at herself, to the amusement of Wei Ying.

“Wangji’s sworn siblings are, of course, mine as well,” Xiongzhang announces.

To Lan Wangji’s surprise and relief, Nie Mingjue agrees.

“A-Sang’s as well. You may call me Dage.”

“And me, Erge. We cannot speak for A-Yao on the matter...”

An uncomfortable silence falls, the reminder that Jin Guangyao may be complicit in the treatment of the former Wen. Jin Zixuan looks particularly unsettled, and Lan Wangji has the uncomfortable feeling he knows the identity of the smiling man that one of the remnants mentioned as having taken people who never returned. He hopes the man was doing the right thing, but he’s learned not to assume the best of people.

Nie Huaisang clears his throat and gestures to the decor, as though to remind them of the reason for their gathering. By this time, the new Wei clan has trickled in to serve as witnesses, tired from their day in the fields but also likely from reliving the trauma of the camps for Jin Zixuan, and there isn’t room for concern about Jin Guangyao.

While they no longer need the harvest, the idea of wasting the food is an anathema after going without for so long, and so they will cultivate this crop and discuss the future afterward. The radishes can be given to the needy in Yiling, if nothing else.

When Popo arrives, A-Yuan leaves the safety of Nie Mingjue’s lap to run to and cling to her, clearly still affected by his own reliving of trauma. She smiles sadly and sits down with the boy, letting him climb into her lap.

The ceremony is made elegant by the bunting and newly-hung lanterns, otherwise a simple swearing to the heavens and earth to honor and cherish each other as siblings, never to be rent asunder. As they bow, Lan Wangji is filled with relief that they have finally reached this moment, thankful for the protection it grants Wei Ying, the family it gives him.

Afterward Jin Zixuan approaches, his expression troubled. He seems very aware of A-Yuan’s eyes on him, staring from Popo’s lap as suspiciously as a toddler can manage.

“I will quietly seek records on the disposition of the other remnants, and look for ways to help. I hope A-Yao isn’t involved, but he likely feels a debt to our father, though he should have been taken in to begin with. I’ll do what I can to find out more.”

Wei Ying takes a breath before he responds, aware of how valuable that help will be.

“Just be careful. I don’t want Jiejie to become a widow. She… she needs you, too.”

Jin Zixuan nods, his expression making it clear he knows what sort of viper pit his sect is. Lan Wangji hopes he can navigate the murky waters successfully.

“A-Li and I have something to ask of you later, privately,” he says after a long pause, his eyes seeking his wife, who nods.

Wei Ying looks perplexed at what they might want, but he just nods, and Jin Zixuan takes it as a dismissal.

The conversation is awkward, but Jin Zixuan is earnest and so is Wei Ying, both wanting good outcomes. Given their past interactions, the stilted awkwardness is a welcome change compared to coming to blows.

Jiang Yanli enlists several people to help with bringing out the food, including a massive tureen of lotus root and pork rib soup that only Wei Ning is able to carry. The meal is a combination of the umami richness of Lanling cuisine with the spicy dishes of Yunmeng, and Lan Wangji can’t deny the aroma is mouthwatering. He can see from where he stands several dishes hued red that he knows to avoid, but is sure Wei Ying will enjoy, including re gan mian (hot dry noodles). Other dishes include shuijing zhouzi (stewed pork hock), whole Peking duck, and desserts like sweet doufunao (tofu brains) and basi pingguo (toffee apple fritters), among traditional wedding fare like cold jellyfish salad, roast suckling pork, whole steamed fish in soya gravy, peach sweet buns, and hot red bean soup with lotus seeds. Rather than serve the food in courses, Jiang Yanli has set the food out, the hot food on talisman-warmed platters, for people to serve themselves.

“Thank you for bearing witness. It’s been a difficult day for the Wei clan, and I believe they should eat first,” Jiang Yanli announces.

No one protests, and the refugees do so shyly, nervously, under the eyes of the gentry.

The swearing ceremony and the path to it has impacted them perhaps more than anyone but Wei Ying, Lan Wangji realizes. They’ve had to reveal their painful experiences, and they have gone from facing certain death, either from malnutrition or an eventual attack, to being tenuously protected via a sworn brotherhood with the sole man who sought to protect them, a home to be found at Lotus Pier in the near future, and full bellies. Given those selfsame sects involved in the brotherhood were complicit in their near-extermination, including himself, allowing them to eat first was the very least they could do.

He wonders if Jiang Yanli has also realized this or if she acts from instinctive kindness.

“Eat with Baba and A-Die,” A-Yuan insists, drawing Lan Wangji from his thoughts with a tug to his sleeve.

“She said Wei, and you’re still family,” Popo explains, taking Wei Ying’s arm before turning to Lan Wangji. “And you count, too—you married in.”

Lan Wangji can’t be certain whether he should be embarrassed as Xiongzhang fails to hold back a chuckle, but he’s oddly reminded of his mother’s gentle teasing and so he feels only a wave of fondness for his family, old and new, gathered here in a place of death that his husband carved life into.

Notes:

“To fail to sleep and forget to eat” is a chengyu about being focused on something to the exclusion of all else. Didimen is the plural of didi. Yes, there’s a reference to Mr. T. I’ve been referred to an outpatient long Covid unit, appointment in September because they’re packed all the way out. They’ll likely work to rule anything else out. But the timeline fits, so I might have an explanation, however unpleasant it may be. Today is my birthday. I’m 41 now. I had this done yesterday but decided to post it as a birthday gift to myself. In comments, please let me know what you like about this fic, if you don’t mind. Glossary: a-die - dad baba - dad baobei - baby bobo - father’s older brother dajie - eldest sister didimen - younger brothers gugu - aunt guma - father’s older sister jianghu - cultivation world jie/jiejie - older sister jindan - golden core meimei - younger sister popo - grandmother shijie - martial older sister xiong - brother xiongzhang - older brother yuefu - a style of poetry zhushazhi - cinnabar dot on the forehead

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The banquet has long since wound down, having ended with the rest of Jifu’s fruit wine consumed, mellowing the atmosphere nicely. Most of the Wei clan have started cleaning up and readying for sleep. Dusk has fallen, and someone has lit the red lanterns near the living area, casting a soft glow on the Burial Mounds settlement. The air has a hint of chill in it and the smell of coming dew.

Nie Huaisang, when they left the great hall, was arguing that the bunting should be left up to lighten the atmosphere, and Wei Qing looked rather resigned to it—A-Yuan has fallen sound asleep on a piece of bunting, and so it was a losing argument; his timely exhaustion is the only reason they were able to leave without him panicking.

The five of them—Wei Ying, Jiang Yanli, Jin Zixuan, Jiang Wanyin, and Lan Wangji—gather in Jifu’s old hut for this conversation, where Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan will sleep, the only quarters available that don’t involve sleeping on the stone floor of the great hall with the other visitors.

As it turns out, Jiang Yanli, with support of Jin Zixuan and apparently by the suggestion of Jiang Wanyin, wants to request that Wei Ying name his coming wai sheng, an honor he’s clearly not expecting.

“I wanted to ask you when we last came to Yiling, but there wasn’t the opportunity,” she says, watching him with soft eyes.

Wei Ying rallies quickly and immediately identifies the Jin’s next generational name Ru. He considers, brushing at his nose with his forefinger as he does, taking the request seriously.

“How about Rulan?” he finally suggests, then hurries to clarify when Jiang Wanyin protests. “Not that lan, A-Cheng. Lan as in the gentleman of flowers, the orchid. After all, any son of Shi— ah, Jiejie’s is bound to be a refined young man.”

“Rulan,” Jiang Yanli says, tasting the name. “Jin Rulan. It’s perfect, A-Xian.”

“I agree,” Jin Zixuan adds. “It’s regal.”

“It’s okay, but of course you’d name him after your husband,” Jiang Wanyin grouses, ready to dodge when Wei Ying punches at his arm, blushing.

Jiang Yanli chides them gently and they take on the countenance of scolded children.

Wei Ying’s sister is clearly tired from travel and the banquet, and so they excuse themselves quickly to let her rest, assuring her that she needn’t help clean up from the banquet and swearing ceremonies, leaving her to the care of her husband.

By the time they return to the hall, Nie Huaisang has won the argument with Wei Qing, the bunting to stay at least until they’ve all moved to Lotus Pier. The Nie heir’s bedding is opulent, something Lan Wangji didn’t see the night before, and he can only again wonder about his spy ring, or if he may have corresponded with someone among the newly-renamed Wei or the people of Yiling somehow. Their other guests have largely made do with simple bedrolls, Xiongzhang’s the same as his own.

Jiang Wanyin breaks from them to speak with Wei Qing, and they help Popo move A-Yuan to her rooms for the night. He blessedly doesn’t stir. With the night winding down, their guests settled, nothing else is needed from them.

Lan Wangji steers Wei Ying toward the cave and their alcove, noting the signs he is exhausted—a fine tremor in his shoulder blades and drooping eyelids. It has again been an emotional day, one that had required his husband to engage with their guests and accept that others were taking control to help. Letting them take it, and what that help entails, has not been easy for Wei Ying.

He is unsurprised when Wei Ying falls asleep in the bath, the warmth seeping into him and making him drowse. Once he has soaked with the sachet, Lan Wangji lifts him from the tub and dresses him in a simple underrobe before tucking him in and joining him in the bed for a much-needed rest, hai shi upon them.

“Do you think this will work?” Wei Ying asks in a whisper, having stirred. “The poem, the brotherhood?”

Wei Ying sounds worried, and Lan Wangji pauses to consider.

“Mn. We have allies. All four sects, if you include Jin Zixuan.”

That receives an amused snort, then a more thoughtful noise.

“Jin Guangshan is going to be pissed… which could backfire if we’re not careful.”

Lan Wangji remembers the plan to ply Wei Qing’s trade and feed the street children, and has to admit that will be one way in which they are vulnerable. She will need protection away from the warded settlement, which will mean Wei Ying and Lan Wangji will spend their time in Yiling with her. A-Yuan as well, he suspects, as the boy is likely to become more clingy after his reaction to the zhushazhi. He cannot predict the future, but hopefully they can protect their own until they are safely in Lotus Pier.

“We will take care,” he assures his husband.

Wei Ying hums in response, already slipping back into sleep, hopefully reassured. Lan Wangji pulls him close, kissing him chastely and tucking him against his side.

Where Wei Ying was all angles when Lan Wangji first arrived, now he is softer, having gained precious weight, his bones no longer prominent. He is healthier, and Lan Wangji will do whatever is necessary to ensure he stays that way.

The next morning he wakes his husband in the best way possible, bringing him to completion with his mouth. Wei Ying returns the favor and makes a crass joke about breakfast, and Lan Wangji’s ears burn at the idea—far from finding it offensive; he finds it entirely too thought-provoking. They lie idly together for a period of time before joining the outside world, enjoying the peace of their alcove.

Their guests filter out a few hours apart after a breakfast comprised of actual rice congee, instead of the cheaper millet, and with leftover food from the banquet repurposed as toppings. They gather in the great hall afterward as their guests prepare to leave, their departures staggered to prevent suspicion.

Jiang Wanyin leaves first with two more refugees disguised as Jiang disciples. The uncle with the broken leg is one of them, as Wei Qing hopes being away from the Burial Mounds will hasten his recovery from the necessary rebreaking. The other is the woman with the peony branded on her shoulder.

The Nie leave without much fanfare, though Nie Huaisang promises tearfully that he’ll get the yuefu out as soon as possible.

“You deserve a better reputation, Wuxian-xiong,” he says, clapping his arm companionably.

They’ve decided to refer to each other not with titles, but with the honorifics xiong to refer to an older brother and di to refer to the younger, with Wei Ning being Ning-di to everyone and Jin Zixuan being Zixuan-xiong to everyone except Wei Qing and Jiang Yanli.

Lan Wangji fully intends to continue calling his husband Wei Ying, while Wei Ying will undoubtedly still call him Lan Zhan or Lan-er-gege. Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan will continue referring to each other as A-Xuan and A-Li. Jiang Yanli also intends to keep calling her brothers A-Xian and A-Cheng. Meanwhile, Wei Qing and Jiang Yanli are Qing-jie and Yanli-jie to most of them, with Wei Qing using Yanli-mei.

Likely it would be simpler to use dage, erge, etc., but those are already being used by the Venerated Triad, and they know the Auspicious Eight needs to be distinct.

Being called Wangji-xiong or Wangji-di will take a little getting used to, but it isn’t a complex system.

“You have the support of the Nie, Wei Wuxian,” Nie Mingjue states, and Wei Ying bows gratefully.

Xiongzhang leaves with the promise to schedule night hunts to the Burial Mounds with the Nie and the delivery of supplies.

Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli are the last to depart.

A-Yuan has spent the morning eying Jin Zixuan distrustfully, as though waiting for the zhushazhi to reappear. They are all at a loss for how to remedy the situation.

Eventually, as they near the entrance to the Burial Mounds, the Jin heir removes the tassel from Suihua and holds it out to A-Yuan, stoking his curiosity enough that he takes it and then retreats to hide behind Wei Ying’s leg before examining it.

“Soon your guma will have a baby,” Jin Zixuan tells the boy. “He’ll be your tangdi. Can I trust you to keep that safe for him until he is born?”

The idea of more family seems to help, and A-Yuan nods after only a little hesitation.

“For Tangdi and Guma,” he says, shaking the tassel and watching it sparkle in the sun.

Lan Wangji has to admit it’s a brilliant strategy, giving A-Yuan a job and the promise of a cousin, along with the bauble itself. Wei Ying helps the boy attach the tassel to his belt next to his clarity bell, and the boy continues to play with it.

“Thank you for taking care of that for your guzhang and tangdi,” Jiang Yanli says to him, bending before the boy. “His name will be Jin Ling, courtesy name Rulan, and he’ll be happy to have you as his biaoge, A-Yuan.”

A-Yuan hugs her when prompted, then clings to Wei Ying’s leg as they watch the two step into the carriage and the carriage fade into the distance.

By the time they return to the settlement, lunch has been prepared, with Wei Ning having repurposed more leftovers into an array of xian bing, baozi, and zongzi. A-Yuan is less interested in the food than the tassel at his waist, but they manage to get him to eat with Popo’s help.

The day passes quickly, Wei Ying falling asleep to musical acupuncture treatment and napping with A-Yuan, both of them exhausted. A-Yuan in particular is fussy before he sleeps, eventually falling asleep with his fingers in his mouth, which Lan Wangji remedies afterward.

“Do you think becoming ba xiongdi will work?” Wei Qing asks, unknowingly echoing Wei Ying.

“Those who have sworn brotherhood are likely to honor it,” Lan Wangji says, “but the reaction of Lanling Jin is unpredictable.”

Wei Qing nods, her brow furrowed as she watches A-Yuan and Wei Ying sleep.

“We will need to begin fulfilling the yuefu,” he tells her, and she nods. “Wei Ying will need to grow lotuses.”

She snorts.

“He’ll manage. I’ll need to put together supplies for a clinic in town.”

“And you will need protection while you do,” Lan Wangji points out, and her lips twist in distaste.

“You and Wei Wuxian will need to adopt the street kids anyway, so I’m sure you’ll be in town with me when I go,” she says with a sigh, heading for her medical alcove. “Hopefully the Jin don’t act against us, but we’ll keep aware.”

It takes several days to prepare and make plans. They decide on baozi for the street kids, something that doesn’t require dishes, unlike Wei Ying’s idea of soup. He had to concede that the need for dishes limited them, but argued successfully for sweet zongzi in addition to the baozi, on the grounds that they would be a nice treat.

Wei Qing was hopeful she could examine the kids as they came to treat any injuries or maladies, but the first order of business was finding and leasing an appropriate stall.

Fortunately, when it is made clear she intends to treat and feed people for free, space is made in a small booth for a very small price by the Yiling magistrate. He is thrilled to have the famous doctor back in Yiling, as she previously treated patients for free if they braved the Wen sect to reach her. He even tries to offer the former supervisory office, which is a better place for them than the Burial Mounds, but it has no defenses and they regretfully decline.

If they can convince Jiang Wanyin—Wanyin-di if he had to in polite company, though fortunately it would have the benefit of irking the other man—to provide disciples for defense, they may revisit that, but it’s likely better to simply retreat slowly to Lotus Pier.

Wei Ying does not prove easy to wake early to go to Yiling, and Lan Wangji resorts to waking him carnally, which is quite effective. It takes little time to clean up.

Lan Wangji dons the blue robes he arrived in, and Wei Ying wears a black robe that shimmers purple in the sun. They debated wearing more nondescript robes, but decided on more opulent ones since they weren’t sneaking around or trying to hide their identities. Wei Qing is wearing a dress in Jiang blue and the comb Jiang Wanyin gave her is in her bun. Wei Ning is wearing the nicer robes Nie Huaisang gave him—they intend to get him another nice set or two in town—and aside from his pallor and black veins he looks as though he could be alive, his hair properly in its crown.

The preparation of food took place the evening before by Wei Ning and several aunties and uncles, who are happy with the prospect of helping children, even as they also need help. With the help of a qiankun pouch, they’re ready to be cooked up later. Wei Qing also enlisted the help of the aunties and uncles making several medicines she knew would be requested, with ingredients tucked away for medicines that could hopefully be made on-site. They even have a hand painted sign with both the character for doctor and the yin/yang symbol so those who cannot read will know the booth has a doctor.

They don’t like the idea of leaving the Burial Mounds unprotected, but Wei Ying has spent the last few days adding wards and maze arrays, as well as a talisman to alert him if the wards go down so they can rush back, and so it is as safe as it can be. Hopefully the Jin are too busy choking on their own opulence to notice.

A-Yuan insists on coming, refusing to let his fathers go away without him. Lan Wangji can see it is a losing battle, as the boy seemed primed to throw a temper tantrum at the idea. Wei Ying also seems to recognize that, and given his reaction to Jin Zixuan, it seems prudent to assuage him.

“He needs reassurance and will reassure the people of Yiling,” Wei Qing says with a shrug when they tell her. “They all know who I am, and whose company I keep. Time to rehabilitate your image, and if A-Yuan can help, so be it.”

They take him back to the cave to change him into nicer robes, and then start the trip to Yiling.

Wei Ying and A-Yuan ride in the cart pushed by Wei Ning on the way, as part of the plan for the day is to purchase some items needed to make the rest of their stay in Burial Mounds more comfortable, now that they can afford them, including talisman paper for Wei Ying, ingredients and supplies for medicines, cooking utensils, and other sundries.

“I want to cook… to cook a wider variety of food,” he said when the list was compiled, arguing for cooking utensils, and Wei Qing wrote it down immediately.

Lan Wangji agrees with her decision, and not only because it will expand their diets, something that will benefit Wei Ying. Wei Ning enjoys cooking and he deserves the enjoyment. He feels no small manner of gratitude to the man for all he does around the settlement and how he has helped Wei Ying, and he is happy to be his sworn brother.

When they arrive at the booth, almost a hut with no walls, a small throng of people are already waiting, word of mouth having already spread, and the croud breaks into murmurs. Bits of rumor, wondering which is the Yiling Patriarch, the Ghost General, who is the child? Wei Ying doesn’t react to their curious gazes, ignoring them.

Wei Qing gets to work treating the patients, introducing herself as Wei Qing, to ensure it is known she is no longer Wen. Wei Ning sets up the sign and starts a fire in the little hearth to get the food cooking. Wei Ying and Lan Wangji attend to the list, but keep the booth in view in case of problems, cautious. A-Yuan comes with them, holding their hands securely even when they come to a toy stand, clingy even as they get him several toys, whether because of the aftermath of Jin Zixuan or because he picks up on their worry.

They manage to find at least some of their purchases within view of the booth, but the rest will wait until afterward now that A-Yuan has toys to distract him the rest of the day.

Only past the shichen of the snake, when they eat some of the baozi and zongzi themselves, does the first likely street kid show up, which makes a morbid amount of sense.

“We’re new, and every street kid has heard of the stranger with poisoned food,” Wei Ying explains softly, and a chill runs through Lan Wangji at the idea of that being a risk, one his husband has faced.

The child thanks Wei Ning solemnly and keeps close to the booth while he eats, watching warily around, then disappears once the food is eaten, not even thinking to ask for more. Wei Ying watches the space the boy was in with a sad expression, and Lan Wangji takes his hand to bring him back to the present.

“It will take time, but we will wait,” he says, and is given a breathtaking smile in return, full of love and appreciation and gratitude. Of hope and happiness.

There is not much Lan Wangji won’t do to protect that smile, one not long ago he feared he’d lost.

Notes:

After I posted the last chapter, I wound up in the hospital the next day with pancreatitis caused by my gallbladder. I was admitted and had my gallbladder removed. Went home, the incision got infected, wound up back in the hospital. Never got to celebrate my birthday and spent a large portion of June in the hospital. I’m completely healed now, though! No, Wei Ning isn’t xiao didi, as that’s slang for penis. This is why they decided not to do the titles. According to my research, the yin/yang was a symbol of medicine because it was about balance and good health is about achieving various balances in traditional Chinese medicine. The shichen of the snake is the 9-11 shichen, so past that would be the shichen of the horse, as each shichen is associated with the animals of the zodiac. baozi = stuffed buns ba xiongdi = sworn brothers biaoge = cousin (mom’s brother’s son, elder) hai shi = 9-11pm guma = father’s older sister guzhang = father’s sister’s husband jiejie = older sister jifu = fourth uncle (季父) mei = little sister popo = grandmother shichen = 2 hour period tangdi = cousin (dad’s sister’s son, younger) wai sheng = sister’s son xian bing = stuffed pancakes xiong = older brother zhushazhi = the cinnabar mark on the Jins’ foreheads zongzi = sticky rice dumplings

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sassybluee · 1 month ago

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Chapters: 10/10

Words: 39,548

Fandom: 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian

Additional Tags: Canon - Modao Zushi & The Untamed Combination, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cursed Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, War Prize Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Yiling Laozu Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Trans Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Arranged Marriage, Canon-Typical Violence, Whipping, Minor Character Death, Strap-Ons, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering

Summary:

When he was born, it was said that Lan Wangji would grow up to be "so beautiful that no one could look at him." After killing a fellow disciple with a mere look, he is forced into a life of seclusion, with only a veil to grant him some freedom.

After the Cloud Recesses are attacked by Wen forces, Lan Wangji is unexpectedly taken prisoner. Alone and injured, he must rely on the part of himself he fears the most.

Then, word spreads of a dangerous man in Yiling who is impossible to kill...

My @bottomjibigbang fic is finally here! I can’t believe I can share it all with you now! I had a lot of fun writing this fic, and I hope you enjoy it.

Featuring art by @aoi-hagane, embedded in the fic and viewable here.

#bottomji #lan wangji #cql fic #mdzs fic #warprize lwj #trans wwx #my fic

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agoodboysforeverhole · 2 months ago

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🍉xiyao gotcha for gaza🍉

 Prompt: Modern AU: JGY and LXC are both seeing other people (named characters or not, but no characters bashing ofc) but end up sleeping together very enthusiastically when the occasion presents itself. Come morning JGY is fretting, not out of guilt but rather worrying about work and social life complications if the news get out. LXC in the meantime shows zero regret, because being with A-Yao is something he'd wanted for ages. The tone is up to the writer (comedic, gritty, angsty) but ideally with xiyao endgame. (if NSFW, I love me some power bottom JGY!)  Thirty-Five Adequate Years by real_ghost

 Summary: Lan Wangji is suspecting a university janitor (Meng Yao) of charging students for writing their papers. Lan Xichen is deeply impressed with Meng Yao's abilities. He is also closeted and engaged.

 Fandom: MDZS, CQL Pairing: Lan Xichen / Meng Yao Rating: Explicit Tags: Modern AU, University Setting, Illegal Activities, Infidelity, Cheating, Mutual Pining, Gay Sex, Power Bottom Meng Yao, Unprotected Sex Words: 7791

#mdzs #xiyao #xiyaogotcha4gaza #fanfic #cql fic

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disastermages · 3 months ago

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Draped in Black and Dripping With Love Ch. 8

[read it on ao3]

Lan Zhan’s family members aren’t especially loud, it’s just that there are so many of them and his uncle’s house feels smaller and smaller with every guest that walks through the door. He tried his best, he really did, but he still waits until no one is standing over him, asking about his grades or telling him how big he’s gotten to duck underneath a table.

He won’t stay long. Uncle will be upset with him if he hides for too long, so Lan Zhan only means to hide for a moment, until he feels ready to come out again.

The tablecloth rustles and sways as his relatives walk by, murmuring to each other or chuckling lightly. It’s the laughter that makes him gather his legs in his arms and press them against his chest, as if he could still shrink himself into something that can’t be seen.

What were they laughing at? Were they laughing at his mother? Were they standing over her casket and clucking their tongues? Lan Zhan had been to see her more times than he can count, but he’d shied away when his father drifted into the room, a soulless look in his eyes. The whole room had gone quiet then, the air sucked out of it, and Lan Zhan had let himself be driven away from his mother’s side. His father stood at her head, looking down at her and not seeing either of his sons.

Lan Huan tried to catch him, he even whispered his name, but Lan Zhan’s stomach was already churning, acid was already rising in his throat, but all three bathrooms were already occupied. Underneath a table was the only place he could go as heat began to prick at his eyes.

A whimper, a squeak of a sob shakes out of Lan Zhan as he rests his forehead on his arm, hating the texture of his suit jacket. Uncle tried to get him something different, another kind of fabric, but his father had insisted, his voice and eyes getting sharp.

His mother never looked at him like that, she never spoke to him like that either, not even when she had to scold him or correct him for doing something wrong. Lan Zhan isn’t sure when he started to rock himself, but he can’t make himself stop now as he tries hard to choke down the tears as they come.

He wants his mother.

He wishes it was his father.

Lan Zhan knows that it’s wrong to wish for such a thing, that he’d be punished if he breathed even a word of it to a single person, he knows that it’s unfilial, but he cannot help it. He cannot stop himself, even as he manages to stop another hiccup as it tries to force its way up. He needs to get up, he needs to sneak out from underneath the table and find his brother, or his uncle, but not his father, but the room has gone quiet again. They would notice him sneaking out now.

Lan Zhan doesn’t want to, but he has to. Pushing himself onto his hands and knees, Lan Zhan moves to crawl out from the side of the table, but the tablecloth is lifting up from the other side and an older woman is crawling under the table with him. Her silk, wide legged trousers make the movement easier, easier than it would be for all the other aunties who are wearing dresses.

She doesn’t look angry when she rolls herself onto her bottom, her head ducking just a little. “Zhan’er, did you come here to hide too?” The auntie drops her voice to a conspirator’s whisper, a calm smile spreading across her face. She doesn’t reach out to pat the top of his head or to pinch his cheeks like the other aunties had, she doesn’t reach out to touch him at all, she simply waits for his answer while arranging her legs until they’re crossed on top of each other.

Lan Zhan doesn’t remember her name. He doesn’t remember meeting her when his uncle had brought him and his brother to receive all the guests.

Wordlessly, Lan Zhan nods his head and settles back onto his knees. Would it be rude to leave? Would it be more rude to stay when this auntie had come to hide, just like he had? His uncle had never said anything about the etiquette of hiding under a table with another person. He and Lan Huan were always very polite, that’s what older people always told Lan Zhan’s uncle.

Lan Zhan shifts his weight awkwardly from knee to knee, looking away from the auntie in front of him. His fingers twist into the fabric of his slacks, only to let go almost automatically. He hates this material. It feels bad no matter how he tries to touch it.

“Are grownups allowed to hide under tables?” Lan Zhan asks the question carefully, looking up at the woman to gauge her reaction. Most adults didn’t like being called out, Lan Zhan knows that from experience, but the auntie’s shoulders shake with laughter that she can’t let out. Her dark hair falls over one shoulder as she leans forward, her elbows on her knees.

“No one is supposed to hide under tables.” The auntie answers, her voice thick with faux seriousness, “The family has given up on me, though, they say arguing with Auntie Yi is like arguing with a brick wall.”

Auntie Yi. Lan Yi. The name sounds familiar for some reason, but Lan Zhan can’t remember why right now.

“I need to go back out.” Lan Zhan says quietly, but he doesn’t move, “They’ll come look for me if I don’t, and then Uncle will punish me.” And Lan Huan would look at him with a mixture of pity and sympathy, and maybe a little envy. It’s always easier for Lan Zhan to disappear, he wasn’t born first. “Father will be angry.”

The smile drops off of Lan Yi’s face when Lan Zhan says that, her fingers twitching and then pressing together. A long time ago, Lan Zhan heard other adults whispering about his father, about his fickleness, about the mistakes he’d made, but they’d gone quiet the second they saw Lan Zhan watching them. They always stopped whispering whenever they caught Lan Zhan looking at them. It never felt fair.

“Will you only be in trouble if they find you under a table?” Lan Yi asks suddenly. She forces her face to soften, adults do that a lot when they talk to him. Lan Zhan isn’t sure why.

“I’m not supposed to go anywhere by myself, I’m supposed to have an adult or A-Huan.” Saying it aloud only makes Lan Zhan feel like a baby, too young to be left on his own. For some reason, that makes Auntie Yi’s smile come back, it makes it look real before she gets onto her own hands and knees to crawl out from under the table. She doesn’t even look to see if there’s anyone around. She doesn’t have to, Lan Zhan realizes, watching her slip out and hold the tablecloth up for him.

“Auntie Yi is an adult.” Lan Yi declares, straightening her back and letting it pop. “Zhan’er won’t get in trouble as long as he’s with an adult.” Not a single person gives them a second glance as Lan Yi holds out her hand for Lan Zhan to take, but her touch is cold. It’s almost cold enough to hurt, but Lan Zhan forces himself to hold onto her as she navigates them through the crowd. No one tries to stop them, but more than a few of them shiver as the two of them pass.

Lan Huan is trapped in a cluster of people, standing between their father and their uncle and Lan Zhan waves as Lan Yi leads him through an open door and down the wooden steps. If they started looking for him, Lan Huan would tell them that Lan Zhan was with an auntie, he might even remember Auntie Yi’s name.

Lan Zhan might still get in trouble, but the consequences wouldn’t be as bad as they would be if he wandered off on his own.

Lan Yi leads him far away from the constant low buzzing of his mother’s funeral, into the dense forest that surrounds his home, until they come to stand in front of a rockface. A secretive smile crawls onto Lan Yi’s face as she drops into a squat before Lan Zhan, her fingers undoing the knot at the back of her head to untie her headband. “Does ZhanZhan’er want to see why we still wear our headbands sometimes?”

Hundreds of years ago, Lan Qiren’s voice sounds in Lan Zhan’s mind now, they wore their headbands every single day of their lives, but now, they only wear them for special occasions. For first nighthunts. For weddings. For funerals. For cultivation certification ceremonies. Those were the examples that his uncle had given him, but he still nods silently when Lan Yi asks.

Lan Yi drapes her headband over a tree branch carefully before she makes a show of patting the stone again and again. She watches Lan Zhan out of the corner of her eye and he blinks up at her, waiting for something to happen. Only when she’s sure he’s interested does she coax him forward.

He lets her guide his hand to press against the rock, but to his surprise, Lan Zhan’s fingers sink into the stone. A cold breeze nips at his fingertips and Lan Zhan pulls his hand back and looks at Lan Yi. She’d let go of him to retie her headband, but once it’s in place, she holds her hand out to him again. “I think there’s something you’ll like within the cave, Zhan’er, would you like to see it?”

For a moment, Lan Zhan hesitates, he can neither nod nor shake his head, but he still raises his hand and takes hold of Lan Yi’s hand, letting her lead him through the mouth of the cave.

He wakes up before he gets to see what waits for him, but Lan Zhan already knows. He can still remember the night of his mother’s funeral. He knows that despite the insistence of his uncle, his brother, and his father that Aunt Yi was long dead, that she took him to see the rabbits in the ice cave.

He still remembers her ice cold touch growing colder and colder as she led him down.

But those memories don’t help him as he flicks through page after page of information. His cousin had sent everything he could find pertaining to Hanguang-jun and the Yiling Patriarch, separately and together. Even things that contain the barest mention of either of them ended up in the compressed folder and Lan Zhan can only blame himself, he should have been more specific.

He’s read through far too many conflicting accounts of the Yiling Patriarch selling radishes and eating virgins to fully believe either of them anymore. It’s true that the Yiling Patriarch tried to establish a small farm within the Burial Mounds after he’d settled there with surviving members of a forgotten clan, but whether or not he sold radishes or potatoes on the streets of Yiling is still debated by long winded scholars.

Lan Zhan swipes through again and again, skimming and moving on until he sees something that forces him to swipe backwards, his grip on the tablet in his hands tipping for just a moment in his haste.

The calligraphy is old and faded, but it’s still carefully painted enough that Lan Zhan can understand it with enough trial and error and guesswork. The report, written by Hanguang-jun himself, details a mission to the Burial Mounds. The intention was to watch from a distance, but the Yiling Patriarch, referred to by courtesy name, caught him on his way. Lan Zhan expects to read about a fight, about blows being exchanged on a busy city street, but all he finds is a recounting of a meeting between Hanguang-jun and Wei Wuxian.

There’d been a discussion, a nearly peaceful one at that, and then Hanguang-jun returned to the Burial Mounds with the Yiling Patriarch, responding to a distress signal relating to the Ghost General.

Hanguang-jun documents that he believes Wei Wuxian can control the resentful energy, but not without bringing harm to himself. What follows is Hanguang-jun’s signature, his own courtesy name that’s been obscured through time and reorganization.

There’s more, scattered journal entries with Wei Wuxian’s birth name blotted out or eaten by moths, poems of mourning that make Lan Zhan’s chest feel as if it could crack in half, and finally a photo of a long dead, but preserved peony. Lan Zhan reaches out to touch it, to feel the crumbling petals before he can think to stop himself, only for the pounding of his own heart in his ears to stop him.

Memories that don’t feel like his own swirl through his mind quickly, too quickly for Lan Zhan to focus on a single one. All at once, he feels indignant, he feels butterflies in his stomach for the first time, he feels the need to scold Wei Ying and to order him to piss off, he feels the give of Wei Ying’s flesh between his teeth as he bites down out of sheer embarrassment, he feels as if Wei Ying has fallen off the face of the planet, worry rising like bile in his throat as Lan Zhan presses the heels of his hands against his eyes.

The tablet clatters onto the kitchen table. Lan Zhan is grateful enough that it doesn’t land on the floor as the world tilts and the memories rush over him like a tidal wave. He doesn’t know what they mean, he isn’t sure he’ll ever know what they mean, but he still forces himself to breathe in, cold air rushing against his face as he forces his hands away.

Wei Ying’s ring still sits on his hand, his right ring finger, and when Lan Zhan twists it, he feels the worst parts of the headache begin to subside.

Things have been better between them lately. Wei Ying doesn’t slink around the house, hiding in corners to speak with the Yiling Patriarch, at least, as far as Lan Zhan knows, he doesn’t. More than once now, Wei Ying had let him help with easing spirits in the house onwards. The spirit of a sobbing woman Lan Zhan had found hiding in the corner of a room in the far part of the house, two ghost children who insisted on running up and down the stairs until they were forced to replay their deaths, even the spirit of an older man who spread the smell of wine through the whole house.

Lan Zhan used to blame that smell on Wei Ying and he’d been all but forced to acknowledge and admit his mistake, but Wei Ying refused to let him apologize, even as a scolded blush rose on Lan Zhan’s cheeks.

Only the Yiling Patriarch, only Wei Wuxian, and the spirits under his control avoid Lan Zhan now, though he still catches him lurking within the shadows, his glowing eyes sharp and full of rage and resentment. Lan Zhan stared him down once, meeting his eyes and refusing to let himself shrink back out of weariness or fear.

When Lan Zhan blinked, the Yiling Patriarch was gone and he was alone in the hallway. The Yiling Patriarch had even taken the persistent smell of decay with him.

He knows that the ring is becoming a crutch, that it will not always protect him, that whatever spell or methods Wei Ying had used to enchant it would wear down over time, but Lan Zhan cannot make himself take it off, even when he leaves the house, even when he and Wei Ying are alone together.

They don’t sleep with a pillow between them anymore. They sleep with Wei Ying curled around him from behind, holding onto Lan Zhan like an overly warm octopus, or they sleep with Lan Zhan’s face tucked into the crook of Wei Ying’s neck, their arms draped over each other.

But they’ve gone no further than they did that night in the woods. Their hands wander over each other, Wei Ying watches Lan Zhan with unconcealed hunger in his eyes, and Lan Zhan lets himself wonder what it would be like to have his mouth on Wei Ying, to let his teeth scrape against his chest, his stomach, his thighs, but Lan Zhan hasn’t been able to bring himself to take it any further. Whether or not Wei Ying lets disappointment or frustration show is something Lan Zhan can’t think about, even if a tiny, miniscule part of himself wishes it would.

Without a single touch from him, the tablet screen brightens and Lan Zhan feels his eyes widen. He’d left it on the photo of the preserved peony, but something unseen had changed the scan on the screen, something had flipped through until something else stared up at Lan Zhan, the blue glow of the tablet making a knot form in his throat.

It takes him too long to realize what he’s looking at, it takes him a moment longer to realize who Lan Zhan is, and why his name appears next to that of Wei Wuxian. The marriage record stares up at Lan Zhan indifferently. The birth names of both of them are on the page, Lan Wangji, Lan Zhan, second son of Gusu Lan, Hanguang-jun, and then, Wei Wuxian, Wei Ying of Yunmeng Jiang.

Lan Zhan’s hands shake as he takes up the tablet again. The dates are wrong, Wei Wuxian would have been dead, and his family never practiced ghost marriages, let alone marrying their second heir off to someone like the Yiling Patriarch. The Yiling Patriarch was a pariah, a heretic. Lan Zhan has to look at the marriage record again and again, turning the display off and then back on again to make sure his mind isn’t being played with.

The scent of rot and decay chokes Lan Zhan’s lungs as he stands up, the dining chair falling over and clattering onto the floor.

He whirls around, but the Yiling Patriarch doesn’t do a single thing beyond pawing at the tablet, his touch never landing and his fingers slipping through it like water. For the first time, Lan Zhan doesn’t see rage on his face, he doesn’t even see resentment, the only thing there is confusion, even the red glow of his eyes has faded. It leaves Lan Zhan staring into eyes he thought belonged to his Wei Ying and his Wei Ying alone.

Panic sets into the Yiling Patriarch’s eyes, into Wei Wuxian’s eyes as he looks between Lan Zhan and the screen. He tries to speak, but the only sound that comes is the groaning and creaking of the house around them, pipes rattle in the walls and the lights flicker around them. Lan Zhan tries to open his mouth to tell Wei Wuxian to stop, to calm him. It feels like second nature to do, as if it’s been ingrained into his basest instincts, but the Yiling Patriarch is backing away from him, sinking and shrinking into the shadows while he covers his face with his hands.

Lan Zhan can do nothing but watch as he melts into the shadows, until he watches those shadows seep into the walls and disappear completely. Only when the Yiling Patriarch is gone can Lan Zhan move again, his legs suddenly feeling weak underneath him.

Before he can collapse onto the floor, the chair he’d been sitting in rights itself and slides underneath him, catching him. Lan Zhan isn’t sure if the Yiling Patriarch did it, but he’s grateful for it. It makes it easier to lower his head until his cheek rests against the smooth wood, though it isn’t as cold as he’d like it to be.

He can hear Wei Ying shouting for him before he ever comes into the room, but he can’t make himself raise his head or answer him, not until the smell of Wei Ying’s cologne fills his lungs, replacing the clinging stench of decay the Yiling Patriarch had brought with him.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan finally answers as Wei Ying comes to stand in front of the table, his eyes wild with worry, “You should seek out the Yiling Patriarch. Something has happened.” The explanation is too simple, Lan Zhan knows that he should continue, but Wei Ying puts his hands on him as he rounds the table and kneels in front of him. Warm fingers brush Lan Wangj’s hair away from his face, but Lan Zhan doesn’t shrink away from them despite the heat outside.

Even as his eyes grow heavy and every last bit of energy seems to be sucked out of him, Lan Zhan can’t bring himself to spurn Wei Ying’s touch.

The world around him goes black and it isn’t fair.

#wangxian #cql #cql fic #mdzs fic #mdzs #lan wangji #lan zhan #lwj #wei wuxian #wei ying #wwx #modern au #modern with magic au #sometimes lwj meets nice ghosts #it isnt very often #but it happens

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wayofcloudbrain · 11 days ago

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Fic Promo: Just The Way You Are by real_ghost and wayofcloudbrain

Fandom: MDZS/The Untamed Relationship(s): Lan Xichen/Meng Yao (main pairing) Lan Xichen/various other male characters (casual), Meng Yao/Nie Mingjue (past), Lan Xichen/Nie Mingjue (past), many many background pairings Rating: E Wordcount: 85k and counting Status: posting in progress

🌇 alternate universe: modern setting (but it’s actually an alternate universe) 🌇 slowburn: tfw you’ve found the man of your dreams but you’re both messed up and your timing sucks 🌇 pining (and also sleeping around) while cohabitating 🌇 come for the xiyao, stay for the epic sprawl of sideplots and background characters (we love everyone so everyone is here)

Summary:

Yes. Yes, A-Yao is staying in his ex’s best friend’s apartment while said best friend is on an impromptu skiing trip with said ex because said ex needs to clear his thick fucking head. No, Mingjue doesn’t know that A-Yao is crashing at Xichen’s and ideally he will never find out. In the wake of a break-up that affects more than only the ex-boyfriends, Lan Xichen revaluates his life choices and is thrown headfirst into an identity crisis. In his utter lack of direction, he unsuccessfully tries to distract himself with dating of varying degrees of seriousness. Meanwhile, Meng Yao – recently hired as tech mogul Wen Ruohan’s personal assistant at Nevernight Games – is planning to pull himself up by a pair of bootstraps that he is pretty sure he’ll have to shoplift first. On this small artificial island in the Pacific Ocean, everybody knows everybody and everybody’s gotta go through it. It’s a whole mess.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26602150/chapters/64860505

Main story of JTWYA-Verse (see series for many more extras and oneshot spin-offs)

#mdzs fanfic #mdzs fic #the untamed fic #cql fic #xiyao #Lan Xichen x Jin Guangyao #Lan Xichen x Meng Yao #modern AU fanfic #mdzs #cql #the untamed

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zingularitae · 8 months ago

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fandom: cql / mdzs

pairing: wangxian

tags: morally grey characters, questions of purity politics and fanatism, modern with magic AU, hurt/comfort , enemies to lovers, wound tending, fluff and angst in equal measure, but mostly fluff and plot, long lost confessions.

characters: the whole gang is here in some capacity!

summary:

Lan Wangji has gone missing. The enemy has lost one of its princes. You’d think the Yilling Laozu would be thrilled to hear that his mortal enemy is no longer a threat… so why is he tearing the town apart trying to locate him?

the one where lan zhan was never wei ying's enemy but it was simpler to pretend he was and now everything changes in a single day

you can read it here and retweet it here

#halo writes #mdzs #cql #mdzs fic #cql fic #wangxian #fanfiction #please share and read i'm really happy with this #went out of my comfort zone and actually produced something with a plot

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rose-and-thorn-fanfics · 6 months ago

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"The Vanity Of Virtues" A CQL (Xue Yang x Fem! OC) Fanfic: Part 1

Lan Qiān Qiān had run away from her problems. Or, at least she had thought that was the case when she snuck out of Gusu and abandoned the Lan Clan and its many strict rules. 'No one will look for me. No one will miss me, anyway.' She thought, the sadness of failure settling into her bones as she wandered the streets of a town in the lush mountains to the south of Gusu. It was lightly raining, and the people in the market place hurried their transactions so they could return home before dusk. It became apparent that Lan Qiān Qiān was being followed. Her keen ears had been trained to recognize this, and she subtly dropped her hand to her side so it hung loosely next to her sword (which she called "Misfortune").

She turned around suddenly, coming face to face with a richly dressed young man, who she had seen a lot around that town. "You're following me. Why?"

"Is a man of my stature not supposed to take interest in such a beautiful girl?" The man spoke confidently.

Qiān Qiān scoffed. 'The audacity of this man. Its his first time speaking to me and he says this?' She frowned. "Your flattery falls on deaf ears. I'm not interested in aristocrats who follow around girls without dignity." Lan Qiān Qiān said sternly. It felt refreshing being able to speak her mind now that she had left the Lan Clan.

The man advanced. "Maybe I can teach you to appreciate me through other means. Would that interest you?" The man spat.

Qiān Qiān shivered, becoming aware that the other merchants and customers in the outdoor market had gone inside. It was just her and this ugly rich asshole who didn't look like he'd take no for an answer. She gripped her sword, and yet the man didn't seem at all threatened by this gesture. "Don't come any closer!" Qiān Qiān unsheathed her sword.

The man laughed, and approached her anyway. He went to bat the handle of the sword away with one of his hands, using the other to stroke her face.

'That's it.' Lan Qiān Qiān thought, boiling with anger. Faster than her racing heart, she spun away, and slashed the sword across the mans legs, so his knees buckled and he shouted in agonizing pain, collapsing on the ground. Her rage still filled her every breath, as flashbacks filled her head to when she was a child. How she had hated being beautiful, the way her wishes were disregarded. The way men had approached her... She slashed her sword again, this time completely slitting the mans neck. Blood spirted out and stained her blue Lan Clan robes, and she spat at him with distain. The town's guards came into view, marching around the corner. Realizing her situation, Lan Qiān Qiān made a run for it, tears welling up in her eyes as she used her cultivator skills that she had learned to set up a small temporary invisible barrier that halted the guards and delayed their pursuit.

She sprinted to the stables and climbed on a horse, spurring it forward and out of the town's back gate. She knew the energy barrier she had created would only last a few minutes longer. As she rode the horse into the darkness of the mountains, she wondered why she didn't feel guilt of any sort. Qiān Qiān had always assumed that if she were to let her temper get the best of her, the first person she'd kill would leave her riddled with regret. Instead, she felt something different. Almost... satisfying. She shook her head. It was wrong. It must be wrong, to feel this way.

Hours passed and the horse Lan Qiān Qiān chose was getting tired. She kept an eye out for another town, but instead only found a cave that appeared to be some sort of makeshift shelter. Wood boards patched up holes in the ceiling as she entered, but there was no sign of anyone . A hole in the ground served as a fire pit that had gone out many days ago. She hitched the horse to sharp rock, exhausted from the travel. Slowly but surely, Lan Qiān Qiān drifted off to sleep to the sound of water dripping into a puddle of the cave's floor.

The sun peaked through the cracks and opening of the cave, and Qiān Qiān's eyes fluttered open. She bolter upright, seeing someone sitting across from her, staring at her intently. She unsheathed her sword, but immediately after took note of this man's appearance. "You're injured!" She gasped, seeing the long gash in his midriff that he was clutching. His clothes were soaked in blood, but his dark eyes were shining with amusement.

"You're a long way from Gusu," He observed, glancing up at her headband.

"Aren't you in pain?" Qiān Qiān stuttered, flustered by the devious way he was grinning. This man was staining the floor with blood yet seemed un- phased by it. In fact, he was more interested in small talk.

"A little, maybe." He shrugged.

Qiān Qiān shook her head, starting to panic over his injury. He may be a stranger, but he didn't seem like he would do much in his current state. She took off the outer layer of her robes, tearing off a shred and advancing towards him.

"Mmm. Not so fast, sweetheart." The handsome man backed away gripping a knife with his other (partially gloved) hand. "I'll need a name before I let you closer."

She sighed. "Fine. My name is Lan Qiān Qiān. I'm only telling you that because I highly doubt you'd be the sort to go running to Gusu telling Lan Xichen of my crimes."

"Well then, you can come closer. I'm Xue Yang." He said in an alarmingly charismatic tone, taking in her appearance with more interest. He set aside the knife, and beckoned Qiān Qiān to come closer. She cautiously took a seat by his side, gently tying the long shred of her robe around his waist. She felt very aware of the her proximity to this "Xue Yang".

"This should stop the bleeding for now." She said, tightening the cloth until it was just right.

"Qiān Qiān. Your name suits you." He said, suddenly gripping her arm. "That's enough tightening. Its fine now." Xue Yang winced.

She sat back down, carefully leaning against the wall next to him. "The blood on your clothes," she whispered after a few minutes of silence. "Its not all your blood, is it?"

Xue Yang laughed lightly. "Of course not. I'd be embarrassed if it was." He turned towards Qiān Qiān. "You said you committed crimes. I love a good confession. If you tell me who you killed, I'll tell you about my latest murders."

Lan Qiān Qiān's eyes widened, and she whipped her head towards him with shock. "You can't just say stuff like that!"

"Why not?" Xue Yang asked, genuinely curious. "You know I'm not wrong. I can tell a killer when I see one."

"You say that with pride. Don't you feel remorse?" She whispered, planting her face in her hands with distress. Mixed feelings coursed through her like lightning.

"No. Do you feel remorse?" Xue Yang asked.

Lan Qiān Qiān paused for a long time, face still in her hands. "I.... guess I don't.... either."

She felt Xue Yang's hand placed lightly on her shoulder. "Thats what I like to hear."

She looked up at him, and almost immediately blushed. Just the way he looked at her made her feel guilty. Absolutely sinful. And her thoughts... well, they were far from pure.

Thanks so much for reading Part One!!! Like, comment, and reblog if you want a sooner part two!

#fanfic #mdzs fanfiction #xue yang #xue yang x OC #fem! OC #MDZS #mdzs fanfic #the untamed fic #xue yang fanfic #writing #cql fic #cql fanfic

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haruhar-u · 7 months ago

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I’m Tired Of Always Chasin’, Chasin’ After You

-1117 words

Xiyao modern au, hurt no comfort

AO3 upload

TWS: breakups, overall angst, cursing

A/N: they may be out of character as this is my first time writing for this fandom

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･

Lan Xichen was always slow to anger. He always had control over his temper. Whenever pissed, he always would remove himself from the situation; making sure to take a breath of fresh air. The only time he remembers actually losing it was at his brother’s husband but those two are happily married now and recently adopted a son. However, his boyfriend, Jin Guangyao, was close to pushing him over. He slept in his office instead of coming back to their shared apartment at night. The actions he took in his plot to climb the ranks at his company hurt everyone Jin Guangyao Yao was close to. His brother, father, mentor, and friends all cut ties with him. The only one who didn’t was Lan Xichen.

Xichen wanted to give his A-Yao a chance, really he really did. However, the trust that was the glue between the two was weakening to the point where it might as well have fully dissolved into nothing. Was there really nothing between the two left? Xichen didn’t want to believe that. Surely the blossoms of his love for A-Yao were still in full bloom and hadn't withered and expired yet.

He invited A-Yao out to their favourite cafe. It was where they had their first date and where A-Yao asked him out before that. It was a high tea place with exquisite china cups and teapots. On the platter placed in the middle of the table, there was an assortment of different cakes, macaroons, and other small baked goods.

Xichen was surprised that this date could even happen. A-Yao was so concerned with his job that they had to reschedule multiple times because he worked too late or took on another project, pushing their date further and further back. Sometimes he even forgot to show up, leaving Xichen at the place alone. They were only able to go out today because Xichen quite literally chased after him to remind him. Xichen had this thought that occasionally popped into his mind. What if A-Yao didn’t give a fuck about their relationship anymore. Xichen knew this was an intrusive thought and tried to push it away.

“What’s been keeping you busy?” Xichen asked him.

“I’ve received an anonymous letter detailing Qin Su.” A-Yao replied, cutting a piece of cake on his plate.

“A letter? About your assistant?”

“Former assistant, and no, not completely ” A-Yao corrected. Former? He fired her? A-Yao loved his assistant and would always sing praise about her over text, phone, and in person to Xichen. Why would he fire her?

“Not completely?” Xichen asks, confused.

Complete and utter silence from A-Yao.

“Please answer me.”

“They threatened me. They told me that all my secrets would be released unless I fired A-su.” He muttered, avoiding eye contact with Xichen. “They wanted her fired because they felt I only hired her because of nepotism.”

Xichen let out a sigh of disappointment. “A-Yao, what if they didn’t even have your secrets? Then, you just hurt your sister for nothing.”

“Babe, I had no choice! What if they did know? Then what would I have done if they were released?”

“Did you want to fire her?”

“No! Like I said, I didn't really have a choice. Maybe they were right, maybe it was nepotism.”

“How could you not have a choice. She was your assistant, a part of your branch at work. Besides, if you felt it was nepotism, why would you hire her in the first place?” Xichen scolded

“I-I was pressured into it by my father a few years ago.”

Xichen settled down. “I see.”

“I was just scared this person would just reveal the fact that I got my father and brother fired just last year..”

“You what?”

A-Yao looks him dead in the eye, pleadingly his voice shaking. “I-I felt I had to. But, babe, you don’t have to worry. You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

Xichen snaps at him, standing up and putting his hands down on the table, gaining attention from everyone else around. “You said you loved her. You say you love me, but how do I know that? How do I know you’re not just using me?! I just wish you’d thought things through before I you know, fell in love with you?” Fuck. Xichen can’t take that back. He does admit that he wanted to confront him about that. Not like that, though. He wanted to ask him about his worries, have A-Yao comfort him, and then tell him it’s okay and he won’t have to worry. Xichen fucked that up. That won’t ever happen. Especially considering Meng Yao’s reaction. His eyes widen, he mumbles something that looks somewhat like an apology, rummages through his wallet, leaves money to pay, and then he runs. Xichen felt he should chase after him and say he’s sorry, so he’s not the one who got away. But he can’t. He feels glued to his seat.

After a while and a very concerned waiter who went by the name Wen Ning from his name tag asking if he’s okay, Xichen decides he’ll go home, apologize to Meng Yao, and maybe they can move past this like nothing happened? He leaves money to pay for his portion of the bill and spends what feels like forever on public transit.

Once he unlocks the door, His apartment looks more desolate, as if something were missing. The grey colour palette looks more hostile. It reminded him of when he and A-Yao discussed painting the walls and agreed their landlord would have their heads. He walks into their bedroom when he finally notices it:All of A-Yao’s stuff is just gone, as if it were reduced to nothing by ashes. He found a note tied to a bouquet of hyacinths and rue...hyacinths and rue? Xichen wasn’t very well versed in flower language; that’s something he’d have to ask his brother-in-law about. He decided to read the note.

To my dearest Xichen,

I really cherished every moment we spent together. However, I realized I really treated you like shit. As if I didn’t give a fuck about you and as if I was only using you for protection against my father and for your status as a Lan. Towards the end of our relationship, I couldn’t give you what you deserved, and I didn’t communicate well enough with you. I want you to know I really give a fuck about you. I love you, and for that reason, I’m killing our relationship. Despite you telling me you’d die for me at one point, I feel you’re better off without me. I bid you well, my love.

With regret,

Jin Guangyao

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youhideastar · 4 months ago

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Fic: Rule of Law

The Untamed / Gen w/background Wangxian / ~2400 words

Canon compliant, takes place between the second-to-last and last episodes of the drama; LWJ and LJY-centric; Lan Wangji's decision to accept the Chief Cultivator position is something that can actually be so personal 🥺

Lan Jingyi shuffles into the office looking as if he’s eaten something unpleasant. “Hanguang-jun,” he says, with some trepidation. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but… I think what the cultivation world needs is a—a code of rules. Written down.”

Read Rule of Law on AO3!

#my fic #the untamed #cql #cql fic

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petirrojo57 · 5 months ago

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I’ve spent far too much time watching the bts of The Untamed and a couple of things leapt out at me (the most visually gratifying one being that Xiao Zhan is omnipresent and fun to watch), but the other is that there are two guys who are camera stand-ins for Xiao Zhan and Wang Yibo so lights can be adjusted, primarily, but also for scenes in which the action’s focused on Wei Ying and only the shoulder and/or hands of Lan Zhan are in the shot. (In WYB’s case, he’s got a body double and a guqin-playing double.) And not to put too fine a point on it, but let’s just say that no one would ever mistake those guys even in a dark alley for the two actors!)

That got me thinking of a potential AU (take the idea & run with it if you’re a writer, but please no RPF) in which actors Wei Ying and Lan Zhan get cast in a live action of their favorite novel (as Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji) and the guy playing Su Minshan (Su She, of course) is hired as Lan Zhan’s stand-in and is given the teeny role of Su Minshan as a favor to someone. Su She is eaten up with jealousy of how Lan Zhan gets all the glory and gets to look at Wei Ying all day. He starts fantasizing how much better he would be as HGJ and starts over-inserting himself when he’s body-doubling and only a should/backside is needed. Things snowball from there.

Do I know who would play the double for Wei Ying? Nope, don’t care because he’s of so little use because WY is always in the shot that he’s probably filling in as extras in 20 different scenes and is invisible in all of them. (Sorry to that guy.) That’s just how cdramas go 🤷‍♀️

#mdzs meta #the untamed #cql fic #modern mdzs #drama in a drama #MDZS au #it’s always su she

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woshinilaoniang · 4 days ago

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something I wrote years ago and posted on another forum, re-posting for fun

The post is in Chinese and I was practicing, after too many years of not having written anything in the language.

（我已经好多年没有用中文发表文章了，句子也许不通，错别字也多，请读者多多包函！）

总有一个念头，想把《魔道》编成现代剧情：

蓝氏、金氏、温氏、江氏、聂氏，都是家族企业。魏无羡本是江氏集团总裁的贴身助手之子，年幼时父母身亡后由江总裁江枫眠领养，与江家姐弟一同长大。

后来在求学与其他成长经历中，结识了蓝二哥哥以及其他家族的子弟。小说里发声的情节，都可以编出和现代相映版本的。

魏无羡在这个版本里，是一名电脑奇才，常用这方面的才华去解决问题，还是个技术高明的黑客。

温氏为了称霸商界，用尽伎俩打压其他家族。经过了种种事物，逐渐害得江家破产，家破人亡。魏无羡为了报仇，用了他的黑客绝技把温氏集团搞垮。 “陈情”并是他专用的一架电脑，而“阴虎符”便是相当于电脑病毒之类的程序。

事后其他家氏集团便对魏无羡存有余悸，而他依旧护着温家老弱，因此如原著里相同理由叛出江家，被众家”围剿”，把他的身份、身价、以及所有个人资料都不是删除就是改成涉嫌他为恐布份子，终于被关进高戒备监狱，永不超生。而蓝二也因为当时卧藏了他一时，便有了案底。没有人知道高戒备监狱的所在，蓝忘机为了寻找魏无羡，这些年都在用互连网络搜寻关于此人的动静。

魏婴被关了十几年，忽然在一次偶然机会便为自己打造了新的身份，离开高戒监狱，准备过着无忧无虑的生活。出来不久在互联网上的活动被现在已是蓝氏集团老二的蓝二发现，终于找到他。两人相认后聂氏集团总裁聂明玦突然惨死，但死前留下一些线索，两人并携手查案。

后来的事情都可以编出和现代相映版本的。

有没有人想把它变成剧本或同人小说？

#cql fanfic #mdzs #mdzs fandom #cql #cql fic #mdzs fanfiction

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rosethornewrites · 15 days ago

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Fic: the gentle light that strays and vanishes and returns, ch. 1

Characters: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Lan Yuan | Lan Sizhui

Additional Tags: POV Third Person, POV Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, Grief/Mourning, Anger, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin & Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Reconciliation, Snark, Regret, Past Character Death, Podfic Welcome

Summary: Jiang Cheng stalks to the dock when a disciple informs him of an approaching boat. He's had them on the lookout ever since Lan Wangji's passive aggressive letter arrived… Or Wei Wuxian comes home.

Notes: See end

AO3 link

Part 4 of the try to praise the mutilated world series. (https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711984)

-----------

Jiang Cheng stalks to the dock when a disciple informs him of an approaching boat. He’s had them on the lookout ever since Lan Wangji’s passive aggressive letter arrived.

As if it wasn’t bad enough learning he’d hated Wei Wuxian for no reason for sixteen years due to a petty bastard’s machinations, he’d had him ripped away again by Lan Wangji.

Whose letter had informed him that he would be bringing Wei Wuxian to Lotus Pier to pay his respects to Jiang Yanli. And that they would stay at a local inn if necessary to avoid “infringing on the hospitality of the Jiang sect.”

The entire missive reeked of Lan Wangji’s grievance toward him over Wei Wuxian’s death, and somehow managed to imply that he was inhospitable and would refuse Wei Wuxian.

To hell with that.

Jiang Cheng had ordered that no inns around Lotus Pier take them, and had prepared one of the more opulent rooms for Lan Wangji, befitting his station as Chief Cultivator. And he’d had Wei Wuxian’s old rooms aired out and furnished with fresh linens and sundries.

He ignored the fact that Wei Wuxian’s quarters had been largely untouched, waiting for him, in the sixteen years he’d been dead; Jiang Cheng hadn’t had the heart to touch it. He polished Suibian until it practically glowed and placed it on an ornate sword rack decorated with carved lotuses next to the bed with a second slot for Chenqing, filled the wardrobe with dark clothing with embroidered lotuses, every article with purple in it, to make it clear where he belonged—even if they’d fucking eloped the last time they were here, he was of Yunmeng Jiang, dammit.

And hanging from Suibian’s hilt, Wei Wuxian’s clarity bell.

So he stands at the dock, his feet itching with the urge to stomp, Sandu clenched in a fist at his side, willing Zidian to be still despite his fury.

The boat pulls up and a disciple gets off first, one of the Lan brats Jin Ling was friends with—the one that got seasick, judging from the green tint to his face. But the youth turns back to the boat to help someone out.

Wei Wuxian looks awful—pale, dark circles under his eyes, too thin. It brings Jiang Cheng back to meeting him in Yiling with A-Jie before her marriage, seeing how thin he was and wanting to do something about it, but what? And then the next time had been at Nightless City, and he’d hung from Hanguang-Jun’s grip like a limp doll, his face like a ghost, smiling at him with bloody teeth, as though trusting him to end it, and he couldn’t, but he’d wound up doing it anyway and Wei Wuxian doesn’t even blame him, just expects to be turned away and it was his fault.

It’s almost a relief that they’re paying attention to his brother as he stumbles on the pier, giving him time to breathe, to collect the tatters of his calm.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t look any less like shit when he’s on the dock, and watching him try to smile is a special sort of hell now that he knows what his brother hides under his smiles. Jiang Cheng wants to throttle him until he’s honest about what he’s feeling, but he holds himself back, clenching his fist again to let the metal of Zidian cut into his fingers and ground him.

But he doesn’t know what to say, and he has to say something now that they’re here, to welcome them. To welcome him home.

So of course “You look like shit, Wei Wuxian,” is what comes out of his mouth instead.

Wei Wuxian’s smile does a weird thing where it turns more genuine and almost fond, and Jiang Cheng is even less sure what to do with that.

Lan Wangji keeps him steady when he sways, and when they approach he can see details he missed at a distance—his eyes lined red and bloodshot, his face not as thin as Jiang Cheng first thought. Maybe that’s just the ghost of his own memory, haunting him.

He fucking hates it.

Many thoughts run through his head; at the fore is that separating them would be cruel—Lan Wangji is the most disheveled he’s seen him since the war. While the man has been a petty asshole to him (and Jiang Cheng can no longer consider it unwarranted with everything revealed in Nie Huaisang’s machinations), he won’t respond in kind.

Especially not with Wei Wuxian looking so damn fragile.

“The kid can stay in your old room,” he manages.

He’s not prepared for the raw emotion on the kid’s face, or sure where it comes from.

“Ah, little radish,” Wei Wuxian murmurs, only audible because they’ve moved off the dock. “You can see where your Xian-gege grew up.”

Well, isn’t this a night of revelations?

Jiang Cheng forces himself to keep walking, even as pieces of a puzzle slide together in his mind.

The Lan is the kid from Burial Mounds. The one that hugged his leg the one time he visited. The one he’d assumed died with the rest, the Jin just tasteful enough not to hang the body of a dead child with the rest.

The one he hadn’t dared give another thought to with dead siblings and an orphaned nephew to raise, terrified of the road those thoughts might take—that he’d lost another family member, another nephew.

Instead, he poured everything he had into raising Jin Ling, into strengthening Yunmeng Jiang until he was certain no one could ever raze it again, and then strengthening it some more.

It’s appropriate for the kid to stay in Wei Wuxian’s old room now. If Jiang Cheng had raised him, that’s where he would have lived, his right after his adoptive father’s death. Instead, he was raised by Lan Wangji, and it rankles him to have reason to approve of the man who’s hated him for sixteen years.

Hate he won’t let himself consider, for fear he’ll realize he deserves it.

“A small repast is waiting in the main hall,” he finds himself saying, leading the way into Lotus Pier. “And then you can settle into your quarters before dinner.”

That would give the servants time to move the sword rack with Suibian and the robes from the wardrobe into the quarters Wei Wuxian would now share with Lan Wangji. It wasn’t as poignant a message as his room, and it implied acceptance of the Chief Cultivator as his…

For a moment he imagines calling Lan Wangji saozi, but he prefers living. He has no idea what he’d call him. Xiongfu?

No, he’s not going to think about this right now.

The steps of his guests are fading behind him, so he stops, flagging one of the servants to issue his orders.

Oh, gods, he’s going to have to walk them both to their quarters after tea, his brother and his brother’s whatever. Jiang Cheng will look like a coward, or the gesture ingenuine, if he sends servants to guide them. Knowing Wei Wuxian and his well-established and infuriating lack of self-worth—he gave him his core and it makes him want to scream—it would absolutely be interpreted as the latter.

But the footsteps are closer now, so he forces himself to start walking, only this time at a slower pace. He doesn’t dare look behind him, not when his brother is taking in Lotus Pier, this time without the threat of Jin Guangyao’s machinations to distract him.

Jiang Cheng has lived with the ghosts of memories of this place before the war for sixteen years. Wei Wuxian’s experiencing them for perhaps the first time, at least since A-Jie…

Oh.

Lan Wangji’s demands in his letter suddenly make so much more sense. With A-Jie’s birthday in a few days, of course Wei Wuxian is a fucking mess.

Jiang Cheng pointedly refuses to remember the agony of that first year. A Wei Wuxian unable to hide his hurts and accepting of help demonstrates it well enough.

At least dinner won’t include lotus root and pork rib soup. He was being petty when he nixed that from the dinner plans, and he’d argued with himself over it, but now he’s glad he did, after all.

Jiang Cheng has no illusions that he can avoid Wei Wuxian’s grief, but now that he gets what’s going on, he’d prefer not to have his brother break down on his first night back.

A-Jie’s birthday means Jin Ling will be coming, as well, and maybe his presence will help somehow.

Honestly, how did he not make the connection before now? He should have anticipated this.

Fuck, he should’ve been the one to invite Wei Wuxian home, but he’s been too busy definitely refusing to wallow that he just didn’t even think about A-Jie’s birthday. He’s sure it would’ve hit him like a ton of bricks when Jin Ling shows up tomorrow, and then he’d decidedly refuse to cry over forgetting, pretending his tears are from missing her only. But it doesn’t change the fact that he forgot, and on what was, to his idiot brother, the first birthday without her.

Worse, some milestones have already passed, and more will be coming up, and if he knows Wei Wuxian, he’s suffered silently through them and would have continued to do so if not for Lan Wangji’s interference.

He’s going to come out of this appreciating that stone-faced bastard, isn’t he?

Thankfully, they reach the main hall before he can go further down that tangle of thought, though he’s sure it’ll come back to torment him later.

For the repast, Jiang Cheng made sure to include the spicy fish balls from a market stall he knows Wei Wuxian likes—extra spicy, of course, so much so that the stall popo, who’s been there since they were kids, gave him a knowing look and approving nod. He even got enough bland snacks, like lotus seed buns, to satisfy Lan Wangji’s palate. He didn’t expect the kid, and doesn’t know his preferences anyway, but there are plenty of snacks available to choose from. There is also, of course, lotus tea and Hefeng wine, just to show Wei Wuxian his creation is still made at Lotus Pier, still valued.

Jiang Cheng was being petty when he included it, but he’s glad he did when Wei Wuxian’s expression shifts from that empty smile to something more real, a sort of touched nostalgia that brings him back to the day that idiot came up with the idea after using a lotus leaf as cup for his wine.

He realizes he needs to go through the annual sales records since Wei Wuxian’s fake defection and calculate his share of the profits, along with the sales of all his talismans—he’ll be damned if his brother lives off his husband’s purse strings when he’s brought in so much money to Lotus Pier even in death.

Even in death, he’d ensured Yunmeng Jiang would prosper, with both jindan and his inventions.

He needs a drink, just thinking about Wei Wuxian’s death, the hole it left in him and how angry he was at missing him, anger he didn’t deserve then and absolutely doesn’t now.

Wei Wuxian warns the Lan kid about the spicy fish balls, and the boy tries some anyway, sending himself into a coughing fit.

“Aiya, A-Yuan, you didn’t have to taste them if you don’t like spice,” his brother says, laughing.

“It reminds me of your cooking, A-Die,” the teen teases when he’s cleared his palate with something sweet.

Ah, hell, he’s going to have to respect Lan Wangji saving the kid, isn’t he, his brother’s son.

Thankfully the repast’s awkward silence is filled by Wei Wuxian talking to his son and… again, whatever Lan Wangji is. Jiang Cheng won’t accept they’re married—not when Wei Wuxian deserves an opulent wedding—even if they bowed to his parents. Wei Wuxian is getting married at Lotus Pier properly, with all the fanfare of Jie’s wedding, and far more tasteful because it’s not the Jin. He’ll fucking insist if he has to.

If nothing else, Lan Wangji will agree with him that Wei Wuxian deserves a beautiful wedding, and he doesn’t feel some sort of vindication that the man would basically have to, if he knows what’s good for him. He might fight over holding it at Lotus Pier, but dammit, Jiang Cheng never took Wei Wuxian off the Jiang clan roster, and he’d only let someone else have the title of da-shixiong reluctantly.

Just like they planned A-Jie’s wedding when they were kids, Jiang Cheng and A-Jie planned Wei Wuxian’s. And maybe those documents with the plans hadn’t survived the Wen, but they were still in Jiang Cheng’s head and he would see them implemented. He’d swear to A-Jie if he had to.

He realizes with a carefully-repressed jolt that his guests have not eaten in some time, meaning it is time to let them rest before dinner and specifically to save Wei Wuxian from having to find more to talk about in the silence, and clears his throat.

“I’ll see you to your rooms, then.”

————

I finally have a diagnosis. Multisystem long covid. It’s what I expected, but finally diagnosed. So it’s more a relief than anything. My doctor is affiliated with one of fifteen long covid centers in the US that is studying it, so I’ll have access to clinical trials and such. It’s not a great diagnosis, but it’s an answer.

This is going to be several chapters. We’ll see what it demands. This has been sitting in my files, largely written, and I realized I could give myself permission for it to be multiple chapters.

Thanks again to adrian_kres for the beta!

a-die = dad

da-shixiong = eldest martial brother, or head disciple

Hefeng liquor = lotus breeze liquor

popo = grandmother

saozi = sister in law

xiongfu = not an actual word but breaks down to brother’s husband

16 notes · View notes