#but thats bc ao3 requires a title and i was listening to hopeless wanderer while i wrote this the first time lmao

[disastermages]

Part 3 of the au where Xiao Xingchen raises Wei Wuxian

--

“Are you really going to let him name his sword “Whatever?”” Song Zichen asks, coming to stand beside Xiao Xingchen and letting their shoulders brush together as he nods ahead to where Wei Ying stands with Baoshan Sanren. She’d pulled him away as soon as she’d deemed the sword gifting ceremony over with, ordering both Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen to leave her alone with her grandson for a few minutes.

Chuckling, Xiao Xingchen shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning into Song Zichen’s space just a little bit. “Suibian is A-Ying’s sword, I couldn’t deny him whatever name he wanted to give it even if I wanted to.” Song Zichen laughs fondly at that, already far too used to Wei Ying and the way he did things.

Both he and Song Zichen had stood in the places of Wei Ying’s parents, kneeling down behind him as Baoshan Sanren held the sword in her hands, covered in a white cloth until she’d spoken his courtesy name and asked him to take the sword up in his own hands. He’d barely been able to sit still while they waited and Xiao Xingchen remembers the feeling well. Cangse had been the only one sitting behind him then, snickering as she sent jolts of spiritual energy up his back to make sitting still even harder.

A glare from Baoshan Sanren had been the only thing that could make her stop, and even then he’d known she was still smiling.

Distantly, Xiao Xingchen wonders if his sister would have minded that they’d stood in for her and Wei Changze, his face pulling into something thoughtful. He’d been so surprised that Song Zichen had been allowed to join them on the mountain that he’d just gone wherever Baoshan Sanren had told him to go.

“Bring your young man up with you, A-Chen.” She’d said, her eyes scanning over the three of them as they stood at the base of the mountain, ignoring the way they’d gawked at her and then each other as she turned and walked past the barrier that separated her from the rest of the world. Song Zichen had been prepared to wait at the base of the mountain for them and camp until they came back down.

“What are you thinking about?” Song Zichen asks, snapping Xiao Xingchen out of his thoughts with a gentle voice, bringing him back to the present.

Shaking his head, Xiao Xingchen swallows down what his grandmaster extending her invitation to Song Zichen could mean. “I’m only thinking about what my Shijie would think of this.” He means all of it, that Wei Ying was old enough to have his own sword, that they’d been allowed back onto the mountain for the ceremony, that the second they’d reached the summit, Xiao Xingchen had been drafted into putting the finishing touches onto everything.

Baoshan Sanren had said it was because he was the one who knew Wei Ying best, but the way she’d pulled Song Zichen away hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Song Zichen seems to take his words seriously though, his eyes on Wei Ying as he speaks. “From what I’ve heard, I think she’d be thrilled about the name of his sword.” Xiao Xingchen smiles at that, he could almost hear Cangse’s laughter. She would have loved the name Wei Ying picked, but then again, she would have loved any name that he could have chosen. “She might’ve been disappointed that the ceremony went so smoothly, though.”

Xiao Xingchen actually laughs at that, brushing his shoulder against Song Zichen’s now, because he was allowed to. When Wei Ying had been young enough to want them for bedtime stories, Song Zichen had overheard enough tales about Cangse to know that she was more than all the rumors of a powerful rogue cultivator had built her up to be.

“What did you talk about with Grandmaster?” Xiao Xingchen asks quietly, eyes narrowing for only a moment as he watches Baoshan Sanren call her own sword, though he relaxes when he sees her kneel down so Wei Ying could look at it, his hand reaching out experimentally at first, but then more firmly when she nods approvingly.

He can feel Song Zichen tense beside him before he relaxes again, “I thought you might’ve noticed that.” There’s a nervousness to Song Zichen’s voice as he speaks, his own eyes staring far beyond where Baoshan Sanren stood with Wei Ying. “She asked me what my intentions with you were.” There was more, Xiao Xingchen knew that much, his grandmaster wasn’t one to mince words and he could hardly imagine her pulling Song Zichen away just to ask him such a simple question.

It must show on his face, because Song Zichen clears his throat and starts to speak again, “And then she asked me if we’d taken our bows yet.” This time, Xiao Xingchen nearly drops Shuanghua.

It was indeed just like Baoshan Sanren to say what she meant and ask the questions that mattered, but not like this. There’s already an apology on Xiao Xingchen’s tongue when Song Zichen stops him.

“She said we could do them here, if we wanted.” There’s a hopefulness on Song Zichen’s face as he speaks now, though the nervousness hasn’t completely left his eyes. “I told her I would mention it to you before I could give her an answer.” Xiao Xingchen’s mouth hangs open now, regaining his grip on Shuanghua as he turns his head to look at his grandmaster again, this time she’s looking back at him.

“Tell me what you’re thinking?” Song Zichen had taken his hand, Xiao Xingchen notices, a rare burst of affection right out in the open, and it only makes Xiao Xingchen’s throat feel tighter.

“Alright.” Xiao Xingchen says finally, the smile coming back to his face as he laces his fingers between Song Zichen’s.

They would tell Wei Ying together, Xiao Xingchen decides quickly, he already called Song Zichen Uncle, it would only make sense.

The next time Xiao Xingchen looks up, Wei Ying is running back towards him and Baoshan Sanren trails behind him, a satisfied smile on her face as she watches Wei Ying crash into Xiao Xingchen and wrap his arms around him tightly.

“Don’t run with your sword.” Song Zichen says, his voice faux scolding as he taps Fuxue’s hilt against Suibian’s, but the smile hasn't dropped off his face either.

~

“This is from a batch my granddaughter made before she left for Qishan, it should cure any minor illness he managed to catch in the rain.” The old woman says as she holds the bottle out to Xiao Xingchen. The liquid inside the bottle was dark and viscous, but if it could break Wei Ying’s fever, Xiao Xingchen would do everything he could to get him to take it.

“Thank you, Madam Wen.” Xiao Xingchen says, reaching for his money pouch when Mrs. Wen holds a hand up to stop him, her face serious.

“Dafan Wens believe in repaying every kindness, Daozhang. If it hadn’t been for the three of you, those spirits would have become a bigger problem, I will not accept payment when the debt is ours.”

Truthfully, they hadn’t intended to stay in Dafan Mountain as long as they had, they’d only come to take care of the beasts’ spirits that were stirring up trouble, but the mountain’s weather had been rainy and cold, and Wei Ying had fallen far more ill than Xiao Xingchen had ever seen him.

Something catches in Xiao Xingchen’s throat when he speaks again, pulling his arms into a circle as he bows. “Thank you again, Madam Wen, I’ll make sure he takes it.”

When she senses that he won’t argue with her any longer, Madam Wen smiles, her face becoming far more gentle. “Call me Granny, everyone does.”

Xiao Xingchen makes his way out of the apothecary after that, hurrying to the house the Wens had put them up in since their arrival. Maybe Wei Ying’s fever had broken in the few minutes Xiao Xingchen had been gone, maybe he was sitting up in the bed and telling Song Lan that he didn’t need to rest anymore, that he felt fine. Xiao Xingchen could hope.

Those hopes are dashed the second he walks through the door and he sees Song Lan wring out a towel before he places it over Wei Ying’s forehead again.

“Has he ever gotten sick like this?” Song Lan asks, helping Xiao Xingchen prop Wei Ying up long enough to pour the medicine down his throat before they lay him back down again. Wei Ying doesn’t fight them, he doesn’t even argue or complain about the taste of the medicine, he just tries to turn in the direction of familiar hands.

“Never like this.” Xiao Xingchen says gravely, stroking back hair that had gone frizzy with sweat. Wei Ying had only just stopped shivering a few hours before Xiao Xingchen had gone to the apothecary, it hadn’t been much progress, but it had been better than nothing. “He’d gotten sick a few times after I’d found him, but it wasn’t ever anything like this.”

All of Wei Ying’s illnesses before had been few and far between, a cold or a stomach flu, a bout of seasickness the first time Xiao Xingchen had ever taken him somewhere by boat, but they’d all been simple things that he knew how to remedy himself.

When Xiao Xingchen dares to look up from Wei Ying’s face, Song Lan’s mouth is pressed into a stubborn frown.

“What are you thinking?” Xiao Xingchen asks his husband, his hand moving to squeeze Wei Ying’s shoulder when he whimpers.

Finally, after a few beats of silence, Song Lan moves to sit on the edge of the bed on the opposite side of Xiao Xingchen, fingers plucking at a loose string on the quilt. “Do you remember seeing any of the spirits touch him?”

Xiao Xingchen goes still as he thinks. The beasts’ spirits had been more aggressive than usual, charging at them in death when they’d been passive in life, any one of them could have been touched by one of the spirits in the fight. “Do you think he might have been?” Xiao Xingchen asks, reaching out for Wei Ying’s golden core with his own spiritual energy. It was there, strong and vibrant as it had always been, but between the illness and the medicine, it had become sluggish and slow to respond.

“They taught us at the temple that certain spirits could drain someone of their health without the victim being aware of it right away.” Song Lan explains, his eyes heavy on Xiao Xingchen’s as he speaks. “The victims almost always recover, but the process is slower or faster depending on their core’s strength.”

Xiao Xingchen was aware of such spirits, he’d put plenty of them down, but he’d never been affected by them. Xiao Xingchen swallows thickly as he replaces the towel on his nephew’s forehead. He could remember seeing Wei Ying blocking the spirits with Suibian, but he hadn’t been able to give his full attention when he’d been fighting two at a time himself.

“If we knew for sure, there would be more we could do for him.” Xiao Xingchen says. It was such an obvious statement, but how could they know? Wei Ying bore no curse mark, Xiao Xingchen had checked for that early on, when Wei Ying’s skin had become pale and his eyes had gone glassy.

“We’ll do what we can right now, Xingchen.” Song Lan says quietly, his hand on his shoulder, though his eyes haven’t left Wei Ying’s face.

Reaching back, Xiao Xingchen holds onto Song Lan’s hand tightly.

“Go to sleep, I’ll sit with him tonight.” Song Lan’s voice is soft at his back as Xiao Xingchen kneels at Wei Ying’s bedside. They had barely been able to get him to stay awake long enough to get enough dinner in him to balance out the medicine, Xiao Xingchen couldn’t leave.

When he turns to look at him, Song Lan’s hair is down, and he’s already in his sleeping robe, though he holds Xiao Xingchen’s in his hand. He smiles as he shakes his head, resting his cheek against the mattress as he holds back a yawn. “I’ll stay up with him tonight, you can do it tomorrow.”

Whether or not Wei Ying was miraculously feeling better by tomorrow was still up in the air, though Xiao Xingchen hoped.

For a moment, it looked as though Song Lan were about to argue with him, but then he’s kneeling down next to him, setting the sleeping robe down between them. “Wake me up in a few hours?” He asks, eyes darting up to Wei Ying’s sleeping face and Xiao Xingchen nods, dropping a hand onto his husband’s knee before he stands up again.

It must be close to midnight when Xiao Xingchen wakes up, he hadn’t even realized he’d nodded off until he could hear Wei Ying calling his name.

“Uncle Xiao,” Wei Ying calls, sounding and looking like he was four years old again, rather than the eleven year old he’d grown into.

“A-Ying,” Xiao Xingchen answers, his heart hammering in his chest as he tucks a lock of stray hair behind Wei Ying’s ear. “A-Ying, you’re awake.” Seeing his nephew awake and mostly aware was the biggest relief Xiao Xingchen had felt in the last three days. He nearly stands up to go and wake Song Lan, but Wei Ying stops him by tugging on his robes.

“Uncle Xiao. what did my mom look like?” Xiao Xingchen’s eyebrows knit together as he kneels down again, his hand grabbing for Wei Ying’s in the darkness.

“You don’t remember?” Xiao Xingchen asks before he can stop himself. If Wei Ying couldn’t remember on his own, he wouldn’t be asking him, but Wei Ying only shakes his head against his pillow in response, pleading eyes glued to Xiao Xingchen’s face.

“You have her nose.” Xiao Xingchen says after a few moments of silence, trying to recall specific details about his sister’s face after he’d gone so long without having to think about it. The simple answer brings a tired smile to Wei Ying’s face, though, and that’s more than enough to make Xiao Xingchen continue.

He lists every feature of his sister’s that he could see on Wei Ying’s face, from the way they both laughed to how it seemed as though Wei Ying would inherit her cheekbones after all.

“You’re going to be tall like your father, though, your mother had always been short.” Xiao Xingchen says finally, holding his hand to just below his shoulder. Wei Ying was already tall for his age, Granny Wen’s grandson had only come up to his chin when they’d met them at the entrance of the village.

Wei Ying had already fallen asleep again by the time Xiao Xingchen looks up from where he’d been kneeling, and slowly, gently, he presses his hand against Wei Ying’s forehead, the tension seeping out of his shoulders immediately when he doesn’t feel the heat that had been there for days now.

His knees argue and ache as Xiao Xingchen moves to stand up, but he ignores them as he grabs his sleeping robe from where Song Lan had left it, slipping out of his regular robes and into the garment almost as soon as he’s inside the bedroom he and Song Lan had taken for themselves.

“A-Ying’s fever has broken.” Xiao Xingchen half whispers, putting a hand onto Song Lan’s shoulder to keep from startling him as he slips into bed behind him. Married or not, it wasn’t wise or kind to sneak up on a fellow cultivator.

Song Lan rolls onto his back then, one arm coming to wrap around Xiao Xingchen’s shoulders and pull him closer. “You were supposed to wake me.” Song Lan says, sleepiness covering every bit of accusation his voice tried to hold, and Xiao Xingchen knows that he’s not too far off from falling asleep himself.

“I tried, but he had questions about Cangse.” Xiao Xingchen answers honestly, yawning and laying his head on Song Lan’s shoulder as his eyes get heavier, his hand finding it’s usual spot on his chest.

“Mm.” Is the only answer that comes in the darkness.

~

“Why’re we going to Lotus Pier?” Wei Ying asks, turning and walking backwards until he nearly trips over a rock on the path, though his eyes still look back to his uncle.

“I don’t know.” Xiao Xingchen answers honestly, “Sect Leader Jiang’s letter only requested that we come.” Jiang Fengmian had been someone to Wei Changze, Xiao Xingchen was sure of that much, though he wasn’t sure of the exact nature of their relationship after Cangse had turned down his marriage proposals.

Xiao Xingchen hadn’t told Wei Ying those stories yet, he’d been waiting until he was older and ready to understand the gravity of adult relationships.

With a look shared between them, Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan walk forward and flank Wei Ying on either side. “You’re going to have to be on your best behavior while we’re there, A-Ying, no tricks and no pranks.” As much as he wants to smile at his nephew, Xiao Xingchen knows he can’t, there would be too many opportunities for Wei Ying to make trouble in Lotus Pier.

“Uncle Song already told me to behave!” Wei Ying says, trying but failing to hide the rolling of his eyes. Puberty hadn’t been the torture he’d been promised, but it had certainly been an experience so far.

“Promise us, A-Xian.” Song Lan chides, tapping the pommel of Fuxue against the top of Wei Ying’s head.

Wei Ying promises his best behavior after more prodding, but not without pouting, and Xiao Xingchen finally allows himself to smile at his nephew’s antics. It was easier to make him promise now than it would’ve been when they reached Yunmeng.

It takes them all of two days to arrive in Lotus Pier, but they’re admitted without question when they give their names to the guards at the gates, each of them bowing to them as they pass.

A quick look passes between Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan but they say nothing as the three of them are led into the main hall. Xiao Xingchen nudges Wei Ying behind them the closer they get to the Lotus Throne. Jiang Fengmian sits alone.

Jiang Fengmian’s face is kind, Xiao Xingchen notices as they bow to him, their swords outstretched before them, a careful smile of his own in response to it as they come back up. “Sect Leader Jiang, these rogue cultivators thank you for your invitation.” Xiao Xingchen speaks clearly, watching Wei Ying out of the corner of his eye. He almost completely misses Jiang Fengmian rising up from the throne, though the movement snaps his attention back immediately.

“The pleasure is mine, Daozhang.” Jiang Fengmian answers, stepping down from the raised platform and coming to stand a few feet in front of Xiao Xingchen.

“How may we assist the Jiang sect?” Xiao Xingchen was better at handling sect leaders than Cangse had been, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it anymore than she had.

To his surprise, Jiang Fengmian chuckles almost sheepishly. “I’m afraid I haven’t summoned you all here for your aid, though from the stories I hear, such help is hard to come by.” Xiao Xingchen’s eyes are careful now, narrowed as he watches Jiang Fengmian pace in the distance he’d left between them.

“Wei Changze was my dearest friend and sworn brother.” Jiang Fengmian says finally, honestly, though it doesn’t completely do away with the tension in Xiao Xingchen’s shoulders, honesty didn’t promise altruism. “For many years, I was under the assumption that their son had passed with both he and Cangse Sanren, but a few months ago, I came to understand that such rumors were false.”

As Jiang Fengmian speaks, Xiao Xingchen can hear the slightest intake of breath behind him, though Wei Ying does nothing else.

“Bringing you all here under false pretenses wasn’t my intention, my only hope was to meet my brother’s son.” To his credit, Jiang Fengmian truly does look remorseful, and though he doesn’t want it to, Xiao Xingchen can feel his resolve soften.

“A-Ying, come here.” Xiao Xingchen says softly, standing up straight. Jiang Fengmian was still taller than him, but that quickly lost all meaning as his nephew came to stand next to him, their arms brushing.

“Sect Leader Jiang, please allow me to introduce my nephew, Wei Ying, courtesy name Wuxian.” Normally, Xiao Xingchen would step back and allow Wei Ying to finish introducing himself, but he doesn’t move, even as Wei Ying bows again.

“Wei Wuxian? You are Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Fengmian speaks as if he believes he’s seen an old friend on the street, and over Wei Ying’s shoulder, Xiao Xingchen looks over at Song Lan. Song Lan only smiles at him quickly and moves half a step closer to them. It was enough.

“I have a son only a few days younger than you,” Xiao Xingchen hears Jiang Fengmian say, his eyebrows raising involuntarily. “I think the two of you will get along well.”

Wei Ying could make friends anywhere he goes, Xiao Xingchen wants to point out.