#against the very rude (and regrettably powerful) jgs

[carolyncaves]

Hello again everyone, and welcome to Wei Wuxian goes to Gusu, Part Two. Also, the Untamed Spring Fest is long over, but this is my belated entry for Days 24-26: Gentle, Harmony, and Nest, which rounds out the complete set. 4913 words, golden core angst continued, copious tenderness also continued, vague mental illness plus thoughts of death/dying (it’s still wwx), wangxian vibes intensify (it’s still lwj), lxc is around too, minor caretaking, numerous rabbits

part one | also on ao3

Wei Wuxian awoke, and he had so little idea where he was or why that for a second it could have been before, and all of it – Lotus Pier and that mountain in Yiling and the Burial Mounds – could have all been a long, fading dream.

He was empty, though. He didn’t even have to reach for it – it was a conspicuous scoured ache. He was in Gusu, crumpled in failure. It was inescapably real.

Wei Wuxian hadn’t slept well in weeks, so he was both surprised and unsurprised he’d dropped off so early and still made it well past sunrise. And that Lan Zhan hadn’t awoken him, even though the day would have started long ago for the inhabitants of Cloud Recesses.

There was movement in the jingshi – Lan Zhan had been at his desk, reading something, but he’d noticed Wei Wuxian was awake and had risen to come over to him. Wei Wuxian rolled blearily out of the bed. He blinked in the sun-washed light of the dwelling.

They were alone – Lan Xichen wasn’t waiting for him too. Suibian was still in the sword stand, though Bichen was now at its master’s side. The table held one person’s breakfast, kept warm with a talisman.

He was a little dazed that Lan Zhan hadn't berated him or, he didn't know, the sky hadn’t fallen down around him now that he'd revealed the truth to someone. To be honest the shock might have been making him a little woozy. That was what he felt – light and otherwise empty.

He was very fortunate, then, that Lan Zhan had arranged this meal for him – generous and formal, as if he were a guest visiting with honor – and didn't seem to be asking anything of him in exchange for eating it.

Lan Zhan sat down at the table with Wei Wuxian, even though he had obviously eaten hours ago. Lan Zhan poured chili oil in his porridge and set it in front of him. Lan Zhan made him a second cup of tea when he finished his first. Lan Zhan did not speak – there was, of course, no talking during meals at Cloud Recesses. For once, Wei Wuxian was happy to keep that rule.

It was only when he was finished, and they had sat there in silence long enough that it was clearly ‘after breakfast’, that Lan Zhan spoke. “How?”

That was a short and nonspecific question, so Wei Wuxian answered it as shortly and nonspecifically as possible – after Jiang Cheng’s core was crushed by Wen Zhuliu, Wei Wuxian had discovered a way to give him his own, and he had fooled Jiang Cheng by going about it a roundabout way but was diverted by Wen Chao before he could rejoin him.

If he was lucky, he would never be forced to give more detail than that.

Wei Wuxian had not been lucky for a long, long while.

Still, for now, Lan Zhan only nodded. He’d probably spent half the night going over everything Jiang Cheng had said to him while they were searching for Wei Wuxian together. He’d just needed Wei Wuxian’s version of the story to fill in the gaps.

The silence stretched again. Wei Wuxian didn’t want to volunteer anything to fill it.

“Jiang Wanyin is a fool,” Lan Zhan said.

That was so far down on the list of things Wei Wuxian had expected to be confronted with that he hadn’t even managed to reach it yet. “What do you mean?”

"He knows his core was destroyed. He had it magically restored, though an opaque machination of yours, and when you reappeared afterward you were wielding demonic cultivation and refused to use your sword." Lan Zhan's cup hit the table hard, for him anyway. "Can Sandu Shengshou not add to two?"

Wei Wuxian let out a laugh despite himself, at Lan Zhan’s protective grouchiness, but he quickly sobered. "I told him something wholeheartedly and he believed his shixiong. Is that really his fault?"

Lan Zhan looked lost at him. "Very well. You are also ridiculous. Do you prefer that?"

"You're right. We deserve each other. I mean Jiang Cheng and me.” Wei Wuxian certainly didn’t deserve Lan Zhan. Something occurred to him, and he put forward a sudden burst of energy, leaning forward to argue his case. “Lan Zhan, my three month absence and the flute and the ghosts were very distracting! I think you should give me some credit! It’s only because I so convincingly threw up so much smoke – quite literally, I might add – that Jiang Cheng was fooled!”

Lan Zhan didn’t take the bait. He continued looking upset, and not riled at all.

Wei Wuxian did not have the appetite to play upbeat forever. “Lan Zhan,” he tried to wheedle, but it came out more morosely than he’d intended.

Lan Zhan winced as if struck. Wei Wuxian did not want to do that to Lan Zhan. Before he could think of a way to make it better, Lan Zhan had risen. “Come,” he ordered.

“Where are we going?”

“Come.” When Wei Wuxian still didn’t manage to move right away, Lan Zhan added, “Somewhere simple. Come.”

Wei Wuxian didn't like that he'd needed to be told that. But it did help for him to know. He went.

The paths of Cloud Recesses were not crowded. Most likely everyone was engaged in their daily study or tasks, and Wei Wuxian suddenly wondered what it had taken for Lan Zhan to be with him. He has sect duties to attend to, Lan Xichen had said to Jiang Cheng. He has been tasked with repairing the sect’s scriptures, he’d told Wei Wuxian. Lan Zhan hadn’t been permitted to come to Yunmeng, or otherwise Wei Wuxian was now quite certain he would have. But here he was now, leading Wei Wuxian up the back mountain in the middle of the day, apparently uncaring if anyone saw them or not.

He didn’t know how to ask that, though. He couldn’t say ‘Lan Zhan, are you making trouble for yourself by seeing to me?’ He didn’t know what he would do if the answer was yes.

He would have to insist on returning to Lotus Pier immediately. He would have to endure the sword flight back.

He was selfish. He didn’t ask so he wouldn’t have to do those things. Not yet.

Lan Zhan took him to the hidden clearing where the bunnies lived.

At the sight of the soft, white creatures, Lan Zhan’s secret flock, Wei Wuxian felt a thickness in his throat that completely eliminated any possibility of speaking. He merely looked at Lan Zhan with what felt like a pinched and desperate expression and hoped his question would be conveyed.

Lan Zhan guided him with small touches to sit down on a low stone. Then he bent down and carefully scooped one of the rabbits into his arms, and settled it in Wei Wuxian’s lap.

Wei Wuxian cupped it, warm body and soft fur, with both hands – the reflexive response to a small animal. “Lan Zhan?” he managed. He stroked his hand down its back, rubbed the downy spot behind its ears.

“I find them soothing,” Lan Zhan said, in a small voice. “I hoped …” He looked away, like he was ashamed.

A traitorous tear finally escaped Wei Wuxian’s eyes, which meant several more sympathizers followed. “They’re marvelous, Lan Zhan. Thank you very much.” He hugged the bunny close against him – gently, of course, but holding that living, beating thing to his cold, still center.

Lan Zhan immediately turned and started to collect more rabbits for Wei Wuxian.

He ferried them in ones and twos over to him, and when they began to overflow from Wei Wuxian’s lap – which didn’t take long – he coaxed Wei Wuxian down off the rock and into the grass and lay more bunnies alongside him. Once he’d apparently decided the supply at hand was adequate, he settled himself directly next to Wei Wuxian and put his arm once more around his back.

Wei Wuxian had no objection to this touch – it was more pleasing than any or even all of the rabbits, as lovely as they were. But it was uncommon – he hoarded his memories of Lan Zhan’s contact as preciously as any stones – and as he sat limply, three rabbits resting in the circle of his own arms, he couldn’t help but wonder at it. “Lan Zhan, why do you keep petting me like I’m one of these bunnies. Are you trying to soothe yourself?”

No sooner did the words leave Wei Wuxian’s mouth than he realized of course he was. Lan Zhan was plainly beside himself, to anyone who knew him at all.

“I’m okay, Lan Zhan. It’s only a little spilled milk.” He let his mind wander down a wistful trail. “It’s natural for you to be disappointed our epic rivalry in cultivation is ruined.”

“You are not. It is not.” Lan Zhan took an almost-unsteady breath. “I am not.”

“I wouldn’t have taken you for the type to try to avoid competition, but I suppose I won’t hold it against you,” Wei Wuxian continued. He was parrying, saying bald and callous things so he could avoid thinking about the raw ones, but Lan Zhan was growing only palpably more distressed. Wei Wuxian had to stop.

“I’m sorry,” he said, before he could think about it. “I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

Lan Zhan’s arm squeezed him fervently, but he didn’t speak. He was waiting for him to elaborate. Maybe he meant 'about what?'. Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but think it would be more reasonable if he meant 'what were you not wrong about?'

“When I said it wasn’t your concern. When I called you ruthless, and accused you of not cherishing our relationship." When Wei Wuxian had spoken those words the first time, they’d felt true – he’d been an angry sort of terrified Lan Zhan would press further and intrude on the ways he was compensating for the things he now lacked. Repeating them now, in the gentle respite of Gusu’s hospitality and Lan Zhan’s literal embrace, they tasted like ash on his tongue. "I’m sorry I called you Hanguang Jun. I was trying to make you mad at me, saying hurtful things on purpose. I know … I know you …" Care seemed paltry, next to everything Lan Zhan did and was. Wei Wuxian couldn’t find anything better.

Lan Zhan’s free hand circled his bicep, slow and barely restrained. A silent I do.

“Me, too. Lan Zhan. I’m sorry.”

“There is no need,” Lan Zhan said, “so long as you stay.”

Wei Wuxian let himself absorb that for a moment. The benediction that Lan Zhan would forgive him. But … "I can't stay forever, can I? I will eventually have to go back to Lotus Pier, and attend cultivation conferences, and rejoin the world." Wei Wuxian made himself smile ruefully. "Tempting as it might be, I can't hide here in Cloud Recesses forever, kept like another of these rabbits."

Lan Zhan didn’t dispute his comment directly. That meant he knew Wei Wuxian was right and he didn't like it. "We have time."

Wei Wuxian didn’t know if there was enough time in the world. He didn’t know what difference time would make. He didn’t voice that, though. He was done arguing with Lan Zhan.

“Is there anything else I need to apologize for? My brain is a leaky sieve these days, Lan Zhan – have I done anything else cruel to you for which I need to repent?” It was hard to understand now how he’d been so sharp with Lan Zhan, who had taken it all from him and only returned stiff, anxious concern.

There was a hesitation. Lan Zhan asked quietly, “What was your intention?”

“Hm?”

“It was only by chance you were thrown into the Burial Mounds and forged your tool and the yin tiger amulet. You would not accept my help – you would not have sought it out. Did you intend to wield the raw yin iron from the start? When you came down from the mountain after the removal of your core, what was your intention?”

Wei Wuxian stared at Lan Zhan’s knee long enough that Lan Zhan shifted forward and captured Wei Wuxian’s eyes. Wei Wuxian sighed. He knew he would not like the answer. "I thought probably I would die quickly in battle, and then the secret would go to my grave.”

Wei Wuxian had been right. Lan Zhan's expression at that was ... agonized wasn't a wrong word. Considering how Lan Zhan had reacted to the revelation about his core, considering how he'd been treating him... he couldn't imagine how Lan Zhan would have received his death. How stricken he would have been.

"Fortunately, I met Wen Chao,” Wei Wuxian said, which was a truly bizarre sentiment considering what had followed.

“Your golden core is gone, and your body and temperament are being devoured by resentful energy,” Lan Zhan said mournfully. “It is not fortunate.”

“I’m here, Lan Zhan. That’s fortunate enough.” One of the rabbits reached its snout under his cupped hand, sniffing inquisitively. Wei Wuxian felt himself smile. He lay his hand over its eyes, blinding it momentarily, but then in payment he dutifully stroked its fur. “The wicked tricks aren’t really so bad, are they? Didn’t they save us from Wen Ruohan?”

“You saved us,” Lan Zhan agreed slowly, like he didn’t quite see the correlation. Wei Wuxian didn’t know that he understood his skepticism – Lan Zhan had been discussing the price, so Wei Wuxian was reminding him of what it purchased. Lan Zhan elaborated. “It’s not whether they are valuable, or right or wrong. Your use of them is harmful to your wellbeing.”

Wei Wuxian thought about the powerful tearing energy that flowed through him when he played Chenqing. He thought about all the blood he’d spit into the soil of the Burial Mounds when he’d made it. He thought about how he felt empty and tired all the time, and how even now he couldn’t be completely sure where the absence of his core ended and the disintegration of the black smoke began. He thought about how it didn’t matter – now they were one and the same – and how nothing mattered, and how everything mattered but he was powerless to change any of it. He thought about anger – at the Wens, at Lan Zhan, at Jiang Cheng, at the war council led by Nie Mingjie, at everything – and how even that now seemed distant and beyond his reach. He’d felt a burst of it when Lan Xichen tried to persuade him to pick up the sword. It had flagged quickly, and now numbness and an almost pathetic gratitude and affection for Lan Zhan were all that remained of him.

“You could play Clarity for me,” Wei Wuxian said. “Actually, Zewu Jun mentioned you’d been studying other scores. You can play whatever you think is suitable.”

Lan Zhan looked deep into Wei Wuxian’s face. Wei Wuxian didn’t know if he hadn’t been expecting that out of him, or if he thought it was rich for Wei Wuxian to be asking for it now, after refusing so many times – but at length, Wei Wuxian could swear he could see tears in his eyes. “Some of the scores are experimental,” Lan Zhan said. “I have tested them, but please note their effects.” Then he turned in place so he was angled away from Wei Wuxian and conjured his guqin.

In this way, his back to him, Lan Zhan managed to play without leaving the thin bubble of air heated by their mutual warmth. Their shoulders even touched. Wei Wuxian tried not to lean on him. He didn't want to add any more weight, push Lan Zhan more out of his regular alignment than he already was.

Then again, what was the point of him being here? How could he let Lan Zhan help him without letting himself impose?

He couldn't, then. He couldn’t be selfish any longer.

But Lan Zhan wanted him to.

It was a tangle in Wei Wuxian's head. He couldn’t parse it, didn’t have the will, so he just sat there and let the music wash over him, let Lan Zhan play until he was done, and then obeyed when Lan Zhan suggested they go back.

When they returned to the jingshi, Lan Xichen was waiting for them.

///

Lan Wangji observed the way Wei Ying’s demeanor closed in on itself again when he caught sight of Xichen. It was dismaying, but in a distant way – compared to all that had already dismayed him, it was nothing, and as long as Wei Ying remained here, it had no real significance.

Of course, that second thing relied on Xichen’s support.

“I’ve ordered tea to share, if there’s no problem, Wangji.”

He was giving Lan Wangji the option to defer if he still wished to, as he had last night. Lan Wangji could admit it was tempting – there was a part of him that wanted to wrap his hands around Wei Ying alone together in the jingshi and hold him until those tight shutters unfurled themselves again. But they would need to give some account to Xichen sooner or later, and Wei Ying was in a calm state. There would be nothing to gain by delaying.

They sat down at the table and were served. Wei Ying made a few frivolous comments, a thin but genuine attempt at normalcy, and Xichen responded with good nature, but the unignorable topic hung in the air. When the chatter lapsed, Lan Wangji tracked Xichen’s eyes around the jingshi. They stilled on the sword rack – on Suibian, set obviously to the side.

Xichen drew a breath.

“No more,” Lan Wangji said.

“Wangji?”

“We should talk no more about the sword. It's irrelevant.”

Lan Xichen looked concernedly at Lan Wangji, and Lan Wangji stared steadily back.

“It’s a serious departure.”

“Xiongzhang, we must achieve harmony in the cultivation world over Wei Ying’s new style of cultivation." He didn't address Xichen's comment about the sword directly at all.

The crease deepened in Lan Xichen's brow. "That's a tall order.” He surely also had reservations about whether it was a correct course at all. “Are you certain this is the best way to proceed, Wangji? Is there no other solution that’s being abandoned too quickly?”

“No.” Lan Wangji understood now that Wei Ying had been shattered beyond repair, and any other solutions had been shattered with him. There was a narrow path before them, and danger lapped on either side. But if it were possible to see Wei Ying to the other side of it, to avoid suppression by the various sects on one hand and annihilation by his own cultivation on the other, Lan Wangji would see it done.

Xichen’s gaze slid over to Wei Ying – who watched his teacup firmly. “Well … if Wei-gongzi continues to be inflexible, I suppose it is the immediate remedy.”

He had the wrong ideas. Lan Wangji did not correct him.

///

Wei Wuxian did not contribute much to the conversation, but neither Lan Zhan nor Lan Xichen seemed to expect him to. They determined the main obstacle would be Jin Guangshan – and that tipping the scales away from him would be a matter of ten thousand small words instead of a few big, bold ones.

“Sect Leader Jin will not easily let the matter of Wei-gongzi’s amulet go,” Lan Xichen pointed out, mildly as anything.

He was right. That settled like a lead ball in Wei Wuxian’s stomach, but hard problems were not solved in a day.

They also determined – and got Wei Wuxian to agree – he would stay for now, and they would revisit the matter in two weeks and not before. This felt strangely as though Wei Wuxian had been about to go under the sword and he’d gotten a reprieve. It didn’t matter that it was temporary, and all together brief. It felt infinite in comparison to the smother of expectation, and suddenly he could breathe.

He spent the afternoon intermittently walking the circumference of the jingshi’s garden and being in nature, trying and mostly failing to read a few of the books Lan Zhan had brought from the library pavilion he thought might interest him (“Only if you are looking for something to occupy yourself,” Lan Zhan had stressed), listening to another round of Lan Zhan’s healing music, and working fixatedly but not very fruitfully on the design of a talisman. He ended up sitting with his knees in his chest in the circle of Lan Zhan's arms – limp with what he had finally accepted was exhaustion. When night fell, Lan Zhan opened the jingshi's doors and they sat close beside each other on the threshold of the porch, looking up at the stars.

In that beautiful, settled silence, Wei Wuxian eventually said, “I don't know what to say to Jiang Chang.”

“You will be here for at least two weeks,” Lan Zhan replied. “Perhaps much longer.”

“I know, but eventually I’m going to have to go back, and I don’t know what to say to Jiang Cheng.”

“We have time to consider it. That and other things.” Lan Zhan shifted his hand ever so slightly where it rested on his knee. Almost as if he wanted to do something with it. “You must be careful with your use of demonic cultivation. It would be best if you allow other people to act whenever possible, and only use the amulet when there is no alternative.”

“That’s a nice idea, Lan Zhan, but it’s hard when I can’t justify it. Not also using the sword, if it means I can’t do all the things I used to.”

He could only do it if he had someone beside him who knew, who could compensate and step in. But the only person who knew, and who could know, was Lan Zhan.

"I cannot leave Cloud Recesses,” Lan Zhan murmured. “Uncle has forbidden me." Then, he immediately countered with, "I will ask Xiongzhang to intercede with him. He has already been convinced to have you here and to allow me to spend time assisting you. We will tell him …”

"Lan Zhan, you don't have to do that."

"I would not be doing it because I have to.”

Wei Wuxian lay his hand over Lan Zhan’s. He curled his fingers around it, loosely. “I know. I just mean it would be hard for you, too. When you can’t justify it.” There should be no reason Wei Wuxian needed a guard and companion, so it would be impossible to explain to anyone – Lan Qiren, Lan Xichen, Jiang Cheng and Shijie, the whole cultivation world – why Lan Zhan would remain at Wei Wuxian’s side.

It was a nice thought, just an impractical one.

Lan Zhan must’ve agreed with him, because he didn’t dispute this. Instead he finally asked, “Was it painful?”

Wei Wuxian often avoided thinking about it, but when pressed, one thing he remembered was the messy nest Wen Ning had made out of his outer robe to cushion Wei Wuxian’s head. Wei Wuxian had tried to refuse him, claiming it would get dirty. “Use mine,” he'd offered.

“You’ll be cold, Wei-gongzi,” Wen Ning had replied. “From the ground.”

“Won't you then, from the air?” He'd given a thin laugh. “I don't think my being cold or warm is going to matter much.”

Wen Ning had just looked at him mournfully.

He also remembered screaming.

"It wasn't that bad,” was what Wei Wuxian said. “I was unconscious for the worst of it. Mostly just a little sore when I woke up.”

Lan Zhan gave him a long look. Maybe that was too unbelievable – that something so hard would be so easy. "I thought you were telling the truth."

"It doesn't matter now, does it?”

“It matters.”

“But Lan Zhan, don't you … Aren’t you upset enough? I don't want to torture you with the details."

“Wei Ying. It matters.” There was a lengthy pause. “Does it hurt still?” Lan Zhan asked, so quiet it was barely there. Having the core be gone, he surely meant.

Hurt was the wrong word.

When Wen Qing began the procedure in earnest, he’d felt his life leaving him. He’d known his heart would falter and stop by the end of it. He was feeling its last weak beats, drawing his last plaintive breaths, and his throat had tightened in mortal panic.

He lived on, of course, but afterwards he’d still known he was dying – could feel his body slowing down and drying up without the bright warm thing that powered it. He’d been prepared for that possibility from the beginning. He understood it, that his dying body was going to ache and shrivel around him. He’d just needed it to get him down the mountain, get him back to Jiang Cheng, ideally get him in front of an enemy sword so there wouldn’t be any questions about it. As the days passed, it seemed like it might.

The days had turned into weeks. Yiling Tea House had turned into the Burial Mounds. That empty, dead feeling never went away. Wei Wuxian just realized he wasn’t actually going to die from it.

That had been surprisingly hard to deal with.

Wei Wuxian slowly bent forward until he was crumpled against Lan Zhan's chest. Lan Zhan put his arms around him immediately – the embroidered fabric of his robes rich against Wei Wuxian’s cheek, the drape of his sleeve enshrouding him.

“No, it’s just gone now.” The words felt thick in his throat, so he repeated them. "Lan Zhan, it's gone."

Lan Zhan’s lips pressed against the crown of his head. “Wei Ying,” he said, in a tone of voice that sounded like ‘I am here’ and ‘that means nothing’ all at once. Wei Wuxian dug his fingers desperately into Lan Zhan’s robes. He could do nothing, certainly, but it didn’t mean nothing. For him to give up the past day for Wei Wuxian meant something. And the next two weeks, that meant something, too.

Wei Wuxian would try to absorb as much of that meaning as he could, funnel it into that empty space inside him. He would use it for fuel, when it was over. He could perhaps push himself very far on it. He slumped against Lan Zhan’s warm chest and willed it to seep into him.

Lan Zhan stroked his hair – slowly, lightly, the same quiet way he spoke. Lan Zhan wiped dry the intermittent tears that slid silently down one side of Wei Wuxian’s face – those on the other side just seeped into his robe. Lan Zhan hummed to him, a song he’d heard only once before, drifting in and out of consciousness in a dismal cave.

Wei Wuxian’s whole world was the expansion and contraction of his chest. They sat under the light of the scattered infinite stars.

Eventually, after the heavens had turned quite a ways above them, Lan Zhan gathered Wei Wuxian up and took him to bed – settled him down on the edge of it, removed his ribbon and combed down his hair, coaxed off his clothes and dressed him in one of his own sleeping robes. He lay him down and arranged the blanket over him, the way he’d done the previous night.

This time, though, once Lan Zhan had made himself ready for sleep, he got in and joined him. Lay right next to him in the bed, not even a hint of modesty or hesitation, tangling their knees and tucking Wei Wuxian’s head beneath his chin so every inch of them was close.

“Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan asked – and it meant Is this all right? Lan Zhan obviously expected it would be, since he’d gone on and done it first, but he was giving Wei Wuxian the opportunity to voice the contrary.

Wei Wuxian wouldn’t have known he wanted it, but it turned out Lan Zhan was quicker than him, at least when it came to these things, because he did. He pressed his cheek into the warm skin of Lan Zhan’s neck and snaked his arm around his waist. “Lan Zhan.”

That night sleep went back to eluding him, spent hours standing ruthlessly out of reach – but instead of being alone in the darkness with his sharpest thoughts, he had Lan Zhan’s precious weight for company.

///

“Xiongzhang,” Lan Wangji said, on the porch of the hanshi. “What about a marriage?”

Lan Wangji had appeared at his brother’s door so early Xichen was still in his sleeping attire, but he still invited Lan Wangji inside and gave the inquiry due consideration. “Certainly Jin Guangshan would be appeased, or at the very least distracted, if the Jiang sect would agree to form that alliance. But Jiang-guniang has already indicated no quite publicly, at the victory banquet, so it will be some time before the matter could be reopened. Besides, I thought we agreed it was unwise to let Sect Leader Jin consolidate power unilaterally.”

“Not a marriage for Jiang Yanli. Or the Jin sect.”

Wei Ying had gone far astray, nearly to the point of catastrophe, but Lan Wangji now realized he had also been in error. He had been overly fixated on getting Wei Wuxian to come to Gusu.

The best solution, the only lasting one, was for him to go to Lotus Pier.

part three