#the yunmeng people were betting when they were getting together

[mxtxfanatic]

Hm, I know I said at least in my first reading of mdzs that I felt like Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were actually friends as kids, I would like to remind folks that the catastrophic breakdown of their friendship was not because of some misplaced care but because Jiang Cheng is a stagnant character whose whole role in the story is to be the one who never learns, changes, and grows past his insecurities and resentments. They were always going to fall out with each other, even if the Sunshot Campaign never happened, even if the Wen Clan didn’t exist as a subjugating force terrorizing the other clans, because no matter how much Jiang Cheng cares about anyone, he will always place his personal resentments first.

I’m so serious: reread the pre-fall of Lotus Pier parts of the novel (flashback extras included), and tell me how many times Jiang Cheng says something genuinely nice about or to the benefit of Wei Wuxian without prompting. Point to me places where Jiang Cheng puts himself on the line for Wei Wuxian that is not him distracting the Wen. Compare the number of unambiguously positive interactions they have to the number of interactions they have in total, and I bet you’ll see that the positives are laughingly scant. Most every interaction they have together, Jiang Cheng is being a negative nancy. He’s the type of friend who, if you said “Today is a good day!” would snidely respond back, “What’s so good about?” before loudly complaining about what a nuisance your happiness is. Jiang Cheng is the type of friend that tells you that everyone else hates you because you’re so annoying, and you need to do something about that because he also finds you annoying so you should be lucky he “puts up with” you. And all of this negativity can be directly traced back to the resentment Jiang Cheng feels caused by his own mother projecting her insecurities onto him. Jiang Cheng, who cannot grow, learn, or change, is unable to extract his own self from his mother’s insecurities, ending up inheriting them as his own, instead.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like teen!Jiang Cheng is some irredeemable monster (that is reserved for his adult self), but Wei Wuxian already shows signs of being tired of his attitude as kids. He snaps at Jiang Cheng rudeness in the lotus pod seeds extra. He constantly admonishes Jiang Cheng about his blatant disregard for the lives and safety of other people. Most of the time, Wei Wuxian won’t even engage in the petty little remarks that Jiang Cheng makes, just treating it like nobody had spoken at all. The only times Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian move as a unit is when they have a common enemy—like Jin Zixuan—but without that, they are only held together by the fact that…they’ve been friends for a long time.

And this kinda leads me back to the point about the yunmeng friendship not being able to withstand the test of time even without an outside conflict: I would place the point of no return for their relationship at Wei Wuxian killing the xuanwu of slaughter, not at the fall of Lotus Pier. Wei Wuxian is one of two individuals that killed a mythological bloodthirsty creature responsible for hundreds of deaths, spent a week in a coma from his injuries and lack of immediate care, and what does he get for it? Jiang Cheng shows up with soup gifted to Wei Wuxian by Jiang Yanli, except he’s eaten all the meat out of it. Jiang Fengmian gives the most lukewarm praise to Wei Wuxian for his achievements—which Wei Wuxian neither complained about nor called him out for—because they were both trying to be mindful of Jing Cheng’s insecurities, and Jiang Cheng still made it about himself. When Madam Yu storms in to yell about how Wei Wuxian is a “bastard child” and he’s just trying to show off, Jiang Cheng consciously and unambiguously sides with his mother. Wei Wuxian had to drag his feverish body out of bed—after just awakening from a week-long coma—to placate pity-party Jiang Cheng, and the only thing that makes him feel better is not promises of continued friendship but of servitude. Even if at this point Wei Wuxian was still viewing Jiang Cheng as a—admittedly caustic—friend, Jiang Cheng’s view had fully transitioned from “annoying friend my mother hates” to “the servant I need to keep in line lest he overshadows me.” If anything, the fall of Lotus Pier, the debt placed on Wei Wuxian by the Jiang leaders, and the subsequent war probably allowed their friendship to last longer than it naturally would have (remember, they are only united against outside forces).

All this to say that while Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian may have started out as genuine friends in their childhood, their transition to enemies has absolutely nothing to do with that care. Sometimes we fall out with people because we just do not like them as people. Jiang Cheng’s resentment prevented him from appreciating Wei Wuxian as a person, leading to the end of their friendship and their descent into eventual enemies. Not misplaced or warped care, just pure, undeniable resentment.

[lgbtlunaverse]

A slightly unhinged case for jin guangyao knowing about the core transfer while WWX was still alive

Ok. SO. In chapter 101, during guangyin temple, Jin Guangyao clearly knows about the golden core transfer. He uses it to bring Jiang Cheng off-kilter and stab him and simultaneously reveals to wwx that jc himself now knows about the golden core transfer.

I've always wondered exactly when he figured it out. The most obvious explanation is that he pieced it together after hearing about Jiang Cheng asking everyone to unsheathe suibian (also? jgy? how the fuck do you know that? You were already going to/at Guanyin temple at this point! Did you just have people listen in on rumours from Yunmeng and report back to you for that?? Did you tell your spy network where you were going? My whole kingdom for a retelling of this arc from the pov of these random jin disciples seeing their sect leader start spiralling. He's diggin up random tombs? Fleeing the country? And threatening the heir's life?? What was random Jin cultivator #6 thinking of this before Nie Mingjue turned him into minced meat?)

BUT.

The first time I read that line I was like "oh so he's known for a WHILE." I mean, the line "I've always found it peculiar [that wwx never took his sword anywhere]" does indicate he's been thinking about this for a while, but it doesn't have to mean he knew back then. So I absolutely can't say with certainty that my instinct was right. But I DO have some decent canon backing for how he might have potentially figured things out as early as before Wei Wuxian's death. Specifically, after the discussion scene that takens place when wei wuxian does his thing with the wens and dissapears.

Cause, see, Wen Chao would definitely have bragged about Wen Zhuliu crushing Jiang Cheng's core to his father. He killed the current sect leader, and then permanently disabled the only heir. He did it! the Jiang are gone! I bet he was very loud about it until, a few weeks later, Jiang Cheng suddenly strolls up to the battlefield, with Zidian on his finger, cultivation very much intact, looking for Wei Wuxian.

That must've been fucking baffling if you were Wen Chao and/or Wen Zhuliu and/or any other cultivator who was there and definitely saw Jiang Cheng's core get crushed. They must have assumed something went wrong, or he faked having his core destroyed, but we've never heard of something like that happening before, and they tortured him for hours! It wasn't a quick batle where Wen Zhuliu must have missed in haste, he would've noticed!

Now, by the time Meng yao arrives, wen zhuliu and wen chao are both long dead, but that kind of thing would at least still be a source of gossip among the other Wen. The only time the core melting hand ever failed!

It might be something that, say... a very careful spy with a perfect memory looking for information... might pick up on in his stay with the Wen, no?

So, Meng Yao has heard the rumour that sect leader Jiang got his core crushed but somehow managed to... still have a core.

Independantly of his, Wei Wuxian is being really weird and refusing to carry his sword. His primary concern there is wwx stirring shit up, he has no reason to believe these things are connected yet.

But then Wei Wuxian runs off with a bunch of Wen, and before he is cut off, Jiang Cheng tells everyone that after the siege on lotus pier, he and wei wuxian were helped by Wen Qing and Wen Ning! Jiang Cheng doesn't get to say how, which is good for jgy in this moment because he's trying to steer the conversation as such that no one gets mad at the Jin sect for all the war crimes, but even if his goal is for everyone else to forget Jiang Cheng said that, he'd remember it.

So... after the moment where jiang cheng, according to rumours that were contained to the wen, lost his core, he was helped by wen ning and wen qing, who is a really good doctor. And, in canon, had written theoretical proposals on core transfers before, just never experimented on them. Were these available for others among the Wen to read? Did jgy read them? We have no way of knowing. But if he did, he remembers them. Either way, he knows her reputation.

And Wei Wuxian disappeared right round that same moment, only to resurface with his demonic cultivation, at which point he never touched his sword again. Not even in the middle of a dangerous war. Not even when he was public enemy number one and it would do wonders for his reputation if he was seen cultivating the traditional path. When doing so would have made not just him but the 50 people he was shielding safer! if Jin guangyao was somehow in his position, he'd immediately do everything he could to counteract the narrative of beign a dangerous madman who'd left the straight path. Wei Wuxian has been in absolutely desperate situations and still refuses to pick up his sword...

The saying doesn't exist yet, but i'm sure someone like jgy, more competent than everyone around him, is intimately familair with at least the sentiment of "never ascribe to malice what is adequately explained by incompetence" He is helping spread the narrative of Wei Wuxian as a violent madman, sure, but does he believe it? If it makes no sense for wei wuxian, no longer a privileged young master but an outcast, to not pick up his sword again out of arrogancy, the most reliable explanation is that he... can't.

So Jiang Cheng, who got his core melted, got help from Wen Qing, an incredible doctor, after which he coud cultivate just fine but Wei Wuxian, no matter how desperate, never used traditional cultivation ever again...

Hm. interesting!

It's likely no one else in the jianghu outside of the wen even knew Jiang Cheng lost his core to begin with. And Jin Guangyao was never given wwx's excuse of Baoshan Sanren owing him a favor like Jiang Cheng was. He has all the puzzle pieces in front of him and... if anyone as gonna put them together, it'd be him.

And that's my unhinged case for why I believe Jin Guangyao knew Wei Wuxian didn't have a golden core anymore years before anyone else did. He just never told anyone, because why would he?

I think this adds a whole other level to his speech to Jiang Cheng about how everything could've worked out if he'd just trusted Wei Wuxian more and stood by his side. He saw it all play out in real time knowing there was more going on beneath the surface!

Now the really interesting question becomes: When did he figure out Jiang Cheng himself wasn't in on it? Did he piece it together immediately from remembering seeing jiang cheng berate wwx for not carrying a sword, a thing he should've known he couldn't do? Or was it not until later, maybe the fake yunmeng bros fallout, or the REAL fallout when Jiang Yanli died? Or was it still the news of Jiang Cheng going around and asking everyone to unsheathe subian that made him realize that oh my god this stupid bitch had no idea the whole time.

[llycaons]

ep16 (part 2):

oh cinematically tragic lost handhold....

I've seen so many gifsets of wwx in this scene and that's because as terrible as everything is he has genuinely never looked better. very handsome. sorry about the tragedies

aw man there's jyl OH SHE HAS PEARLS SEWN INTO HER ROBE I wonder if the jiangs trade with sects that live along the ocean. do they have ocean access? I can't remember. maybe they're freshwater pearls

when jyl asks what happened and all wwx can do is stand there crying. and jc is also crying. oof

why did she tell wwx to do this...did she think jc couldn't?

a triangle of misery...

there's a really long meta post about the cinematography for this and I don't remember all of it but it's like. jyl and jc are in the foreground so their grief is being paid attention to, but wwx is in the back and you can't even see his face. his grief is ignored, even though he's the central figure. he's also taking on the task of a servant and neither jyl nor jc stop him

this is def a most extreme case (jc and jyl are SUPER traumatized and I'm not even blaming them for this), and it's not representative of all their interactions with wwx, but it gets me thinking. wwx talks about lwj being his equal bc he's good at things in the way that wwx is, but you can also view it like, with lwj wwx is completely free of the tangle of debts and obligations he has with the jiangs, and they look after each other , purely because they care about each other rather, than that onus always being on wwx. jyl does take care of him, and jc does too sometimes, but wwx must do the same for the other two and cannot truly fight back in a meaningful way if he's being mistreated.

obviously this setup above would never happen with lwj bc lwj doesn't see wwx as a servant or someone bound to him at all. he may see other people as servants, but he's always insistent that wwx is taken care of and he wouldn't accept wwx acting this way to him. which is really good! like I feel that ppl who are ride-or-die for yunmeng sibs and ignore lwj don't appreciate how freeing being with lwj is for wwx and how happy he is to have a relationship that's his own and on his own terms. ah, I miss him

jyl getting ill so easily, I think she has an autoimmune disorder. I've seen her hced as having celiac's and having chronic joint pain, and I think either an autoimmune disease or chronic fatigue makes mot sense. and for some conditions, both of those symptoms are seen so it's not a stretch. fibromyalgia, for one

uh oh. last look before the end.

LIFE-ALTERING MOMENT. this scene is so well done. the dread I feel every single time. it's incredible.

literally who is that

flashforward to the scene in 18(?) where jc makes the same promise to jyl about wwx. I feel ill

something really messed up is how often one of the kids will be like 'we'll go together, right"? this past few episodes. they really are clinging to each other like buoys in a storm

this happened when wwx was running out of BM after waking up from wen qing's needle. he runs and falls over :(

oh jeez I bet they're all dead by the end of this huh

MEAN TO WEN NING. he lied kind of awkwardly but it WAS effective. a nice thing about being known for being weak and socially awkward is that nobody suspects you when you're being suspicious

I wonder what happened to those women too. I assume they're wens, unless they were hired by wens. the clan is fucking huge idk

HE KNEW. and he knew it could have been lethal, I assume, unless he detected the exact poison used. and he somehow knew it was for the bodies of the jiang parents, huh

next episode will also be pretty rough but sunshot/postsunshot are among my favorite arcs so I am HYPED

also we'll finally see lwj again next ep. I think. I miss him. I wonder how many eps jc is missing from. surely several in a row, esp postres. yi city for sure. he's been in every one so far. now I'm curious

[whumpbby]

Anyone who argues that JC didn't have to "play nice" with other sects because Yunmeng Jiang "didn't have it that bad"...

Yunmeng Jinag was decimated to the degree Wei Wuxian HAD TO start raising dead bodies to fight for them. And it wasn't something done lightly in that universe - it was the opposite of what a cultivator should be okay with.

If they had the numbers, that would never be needed. He still might have done it - to add to the effort in the only way he could now - but if they didn't need it, JC would have made it clear to him.

Lotus Pier was Jiang's seat of power that was slaughtered in a surprise attack. A seat of power isn't just staffed by disciples - that's where people lived who ran things for the sect, kept track of money, laws, taxes, infrastructure, education, artisans, servants, everything. I'd bet that's where the rest of the extended Jiang family also lived - aunts and uncles and cousins and elders, and so on. The lord's house is not just a nice mansion - it's the capital.

People who knew how to run things - who were meant to help Jiang Cheng once he stepped up to the role of the Leader - were gone. And all their knowledge with them.

He not only had to replace the disciples who fought for the sects - he had to replace the whole infrastructure of the sect and rebuild their capital to house them all. Any disciple that joined during the war needed to be fed and clothed, and trained and given a place to sleep - and the same for their family. How many of the people who joined Yunmeng Jiang had their families to feed and clothe? Who was going to pay for that?

Wars are expensive to run when you have the infrastructure for them - without that? It's insane what JC did at the ripe old age of late teens. He had to kiss so many asses.

And the fact that a little more than a decade later Yunmeng Jiang is the one sect you don't want to mess with isn't only down to Jiang Cheng being an angry grape who takes offence.

I imagine these people who have joined the sect under the kid leader and stuck by his side through thick and thin, and saw him rebuild the Jiang into one that is rich and safe and plentiful.

The veterans of Sunshot worked hard after the war - to get the infrastructure back in track, to go out and protect the civilians from the problems that the resentment brought in by the war brought, to get people and materials (in a post-war economy!) to rebuild their capital, and somehow still find the time to mourn their own dead... I can only imagine they have closed ranks tight! Especially seeing the other three great sects forming a pact they were suspiciously excluded from (and it wasn't concerning at all, was it?). Gusu, Jin and Nie had someone at their back at all times - Jiang had only themselves. So, closing ranks it is.

I can absolutely see the Jiang sect as a close-knit community that came together in the middle of a tragedy and pulled through, and didn't feel they owed anyone. They are not ones to cross, because they're all taking offence. Jiang Cheng doesn't even need to hear about shit going down and react to it - people in purple will break knees with minimal reason, because they will take absolutely no shit from anyone.

That sort of fame - whatever you do, don't mess with them - doesn't come from the people who were sorrounded by support and kindness when they needed help.

I remember seeing a post that said something along the lines of 'Jiang Cheng is the hero of someone else's story' and I have never seen truer words. Something I've always found odd is the way the wen remnants dilemma (wwx telling jc to kick him out of the sect, the staged fight, etc...) is often (uncharitably) framed (by you know who) from a single pov (wwx's) and almost never from one of the other big players; the yunmeng jiang disciples.

And tbh, if I were a ymj disciple who joined the sect after losing my home, family, friends, etc... to the wens, just fought in what was likely my first war, and was aware of the fact that despite our success in, and the end of, the Sunshot Campaign, we were still in deep shit because of our political, economical, structural, numerical, etc ... vulnerabilities, and I found out that the sect leader I followed into war was making decisions that had the potential to lead us into ANOTHER war, this time with us fighting for people we don't know, who never helped us directly during the Sunshot Campaign, through an act that painted a target on our backs by going against the very structure of our society, then I would start to question whether I made the right choice in joining ymj in the first place. Even JC just, idk, separating himself from ymj so his personal actions didn't reflect on his disciples (i.e. so he could support his shixiong) would have still been bad because then he would have been leaving his disciples without a leader (with no one in the position to be declared his heir), and leaving them vulnerable to be overcome by other sects. Wasn't the whole reason A-Yao killed Mingjue because Mingjue was causing problems for Jin Guangshan politically? And even if you argue 'well, jc should have asked his disciples if they wanted to help', what leader would want to ask the people under him, who have already lost soo much, to potentially give up their lives for someone else's cause, no matter how just?

Being a single person's ride or die is only cool when it's not detrimental to others and jc being wwx's ride or die definitely had the potential to be detrimental, and wwx himself understood that. They had different priorities, and were trying to protect different people.

In the same way that your identity shifts from being an individual to being someone else's parent when you have a child, becoming a leader has that same effect. I wouldn't be surprised if during the Sunshot Campaign, JC stopped seeing himself as Jiang Cheng, and rather as Sect Leader Jiang. Call me crazy, but I'd appreciate having a leader that would be willing to make hard choices, no matter how much the choice would hurt them personally, in order to shield the people under their protection, and that's basically what Jiang Cheng did🤷🏾‍♀️

[immacaria]

Crocodile

  Hello there! So this is day 4 of Beetober 2021: Crocodile from @bloody-bee-tea and, sincerely, I just wanted a good laugh because these last days have been tiring and exhaustive and I will die in the hill that says that Nie Mingjue is good with kids and the Yunmeng people are crazy. Anyways, this day’s word count is 2890 words. That being said, I hope that you enjoy the fic and are safe and sound!

________________________________________________________________

  When Nie Mingjue started visiting Yunmeng, he tried to get used to the differences between them as quickly as possible so as to not offend the new Sect Leader or, worse, make a fool of himself. The food and spices were easy to get accustomed to, though he was sure that the spice was being held back immensely because of him, and he even began appreciating some of the special dishes that the Jiang disciples brought him to taste. But there were some traditions that still managed to surprise him after this whole time. 

  Though he started visiting Yunmeng to help Jiang Wanyin with the rebuilding of the clan, the thing that he liked the most to observe were the people from Yunmeng, the common people and the younger disciples, and their habits. For example, when he walked around Lotus Pier with the first Jiang disciple showing him around and taking him to where his leader was, there were always people in the roofs and piers singing and laughing loudly at each other’s singing tones and he always found himself stuck in place to hear it. The first time it happened, Wanyin had taken offense to it and said that was the way they did things around there, that at least that his people could do that despite everything. 

  He had to explain that he had not meant to cause offense by stopping to hear and had only stopped because it was different from how his people worked. Constructions on the Unclean Realm were usually quieter and more sober, even if they did joked between them, but nothing like the loudness that he was seeing in Lotus Pier and he was simply amused by it. After that, he always stopped for at least some minutes to listen to the people singing and chatting everytime he was visiting. 

  Another thing that he too liked to observe was the way that, despite everyone in the cultivation world being so much afraid of Jiang Wanyin, they didn’t seem afraid of being ahead and poke him only to get reactions out of him. More than once, Nie Mingjue had witnessed one of the elders making jokes at him and only laughing when he snapped at him or one of the disciples playing a prank on him and he only rolled his eyes and told the poor kid to run around the fields until he told them to stop. They even started to joke with Nie Mingjue himself when they noticed that his visits were going to be regular and had no hidden intentions behind them. 

  It was funny to see the way that they acted so differently from his own people who, though they joked and fooled around too, were more serious in certain aspects than them, who expressed their feelings and opinions more openly. Even Jiang Wanyin himself, who was so feared and quiet, expressed himself immensely easier when he was near his people. The Yunmeng people were wild, loud and lived up to their clan motto in every single hour of the day. 

  But Nie Mingjue knew better than to think that they were fools like some people in the Jin clan thought they were. These people had suffered worst things that most of them all, had they entire culture and lifes stolen from them by arrogants fool, were killed and chased and, yet, they still fought in the war as much as the others, if not more, and rebuild their houses and redid their culture completely alone. Because, even if he offered help, they were as proud and tough-headed as their leader and didn't accept help easily.

  Another thing he knew better than to trust them was in relation to pranks. He did not trust them with pranks. Not because they would take it too far and actually hurt people, but because he wasn't used to their pranks and more times than not he fell victim to them even if he didn't want to. Just like that time where they said he had to bow three times before passing under any door because the days were shorter than the nights that season and the spirits were restless and since he was an outsider they were going to think that he was a threat and go even more restless and end up attacking everyone in the sect. So he needed to bow three times before going by any door. 

  "Just like a wedding?" Nie Mingjue had asked because though he was pretty sure that they were pranking him, he didn't want to be disrespectful and risk getting haunted by some crazy ghosts. Or hurting anyone on Lotus Pier. 

  "Yes, just like a wedding. To show respect and protect yourself." One of Jiang Wanyin's Spiders, Zhou Min, said and, beside her, her twin sister nodded eagerly. 

  "Are you sure?" He said slowly. He wasn't superstitious, per se, but one can't never be too cautious with spirits. 

  "Yes, absolutely. Three bows, Nie-zongzhu." The twin sisters said and he decided to do it, even if later he discovered that it was all a prank. Better safe than sorry, after all. 

  So through the day, he kept bowing in front every door he passed under and tried to do it as quickly as possible so that no one would notice. Was it tiring? Yes. Was it humiliating? Yes, but he understood about restless spirits and what they could do when irritated and he was not risking it to happen to Yunmeng Jiang. Sometimes, from the corner of his eyes, he saw some disciple giggling behind their sleeves and he huffed every time before going on, and others, he would see the elders smiling in open plan, but looking at him strangely. It was only at the end of the day, when Jiang Wanyin and he were watching the disciples train from inside one building and they stepped out to dismiss them that he learned that that was a prank. 

  “Why the hell are you doing that?” Jiang Wanyin said, turning around to glare at him and crossing his arms. At some point of his visits, they stopped caring for the unnecessary formalities and niceties they had to endure with the other Sect Leaders and were slowly building a friendship between them. “What the hell is wrong with you?” His tone was harsh and for others it may sound like an accusation, but by now Mingjue knew better and knew that the younger Sect Leader was simply confused. 

  “The Zhou twins said that the spirits were restless since the nights were longer than the days now and since I’m an outsider, they could see me as a potential threat if I didn’t bow three times to show respect at every door I went through.” He sighed, running a hand over his face as the disciples near them started to laugh loudly. In front of him, Wanyin was looking at him with incredulous eyes before turning to where the twin Spiders were practically rolling down the ground with their laughter. They had pranked him. Again. 

  “Are you marrying the spirits, by any chance then?” He said, frowning at him. 

  “What? No! The twins said it had to be three times.” He pointed at them and saw him fighting to not lift the corner of his mouth. 

  "Unbelievable. The twins are well-known pranksters, Mingjue, you should know that." He rolled his eyes, turning away as his smile finally broke out and the sun had nothing to do with the way that the whole place seemed to illuminate suddenly. "Bow three times. Fucking unbelievable." By then, Wanyin was openly laughing and so were his disciples, but Nie Mingjue couldn't even say he was mad at being pranked again. Not when it managed to make Wanyin laugh so loudly as he was. 

  So, no, he did not trust the Jiang disciples when it came to pranks because even if he knew it was a prank, he knew that they knew that he would walk right in one with his arms wide open if it meant that Wanyin would laugh like that again and again and again. But didn't mind when he fell in one, that much either. There were so many pranks already that he always knew when one was about to happen. 

  Just like this time around. He was visiting Lotus Pier again when Wang Yin, the second disciple, ran to him with a wide and toothy smile on his face and greeted him way too happily. As the boy guided him to the lakes where Wanyin was helping build some a pier, he was told about how they were almost finishing the construction and that this pier was the last big project before they gave the final touches and the whole time Nie Mingjue was looking around and trying to see what was going to be the prank. 

  But all the thoughts about the prank were forgotten when they arrived at the pier and he saw Wanyin crunched down near the water and helping other people. He looked up and smiled, asking him how the hell he pretended to help if he was all dressed up like that and told him to get going. So that was what he did. He got rid of his outer robes and boots and put Baxia to the side before jumping next to Wanyin and immediately having a heavy wood log thrown in his hands. 

  He can’t say that they worked quickly, but he can say that there were enough laughs and jokes to make it look like it was quick. Wanyin explained to him that after they ended - “And take a bath.” He added after looking down at his wet and muddy robes. - there was going to have a party and if he wanted he could come too. Ignoring the expectants looks from the other workers and some menacing ones, Mingjue nodded and said that it was a pleasure. 

  “So, this was the last big project?” He asked, stepping away to see the pier better. Beside him, Jiang Wanyin smiled and nodded, throwing some tools up to one of his disciples. 

  “Yeah, after this there’s only some details to be added and then everything is ready again.” He shrugged, taking smaller steps away and looking around. “Mingjue, can you do me a favor?” 

  “Sure, what is it?” He stopped in his backwards walking and put his head to the side when a wicked smile appeared in the other’s mouth. 

  “Turn around.” Slowly, he turned around with his eyebrows furrowed and looked around before carefully looking down when a low growling reached his ears. Near his legs and growling with all it’s might, there was a crocodile glaring up at him and opening his mouth at him. “Oh, shit!” He screamed, jumping away from him in haste. His back hit one of the pier’s pillars and everyone around him started howling in laughter as the crocodile growled again, closing its mouth and swimming to where Wanyin was giggling. “What the hell?” He whispered as the reptil circled Wanyin’s thighs and bumped his head against one of them, still making that horrible sound. It was only then that he noticed that the damned crocodile was laughing at him. 

  “I’m so sorry, Sect Leader Nie.” Wang Yin said between laughs. “But we had to. It was just too good to pass.”

  “How come that you have never seen Baieyu around the lakes, Nie-zongzhu?” One of the workers, Hu Yitian, if he remembered right, said, holding another worker who was laughing too hard up. 

  “Believe it or not, Nie-zongzhu avoids looking at our lakes and ponds as much as he can.” Jiang Wanyin said, patting Baieyu’s head and smirking at him and putting his head to the side while Nie Mingjue narrowed his eyes at him before following the crocodile’s movements as it swimmed away. 

  “Why?” One of the youngest disciples that were helping them asked, putting his head between the railings of the handrail. 

  “That’s an answer that stays between me and your sect leader, kid.” Nie Mingjue swinged her nose gently and smiled at her giggles. “Move, move. I want to get out.”

  “Afraid, Mingjue?” Wanyin asked, getting out of the water too and still smiling widely. 

  “Terrified. What if that Baieyu of yours decides that I’m a treat just like your spirits did last season? Thank you, but no, I prefer not to risk any of my limbs.” He shook his head, pretending to not hear the disciples’ laughs. 

  “You are ridiculous.” He rolled his eyes, walking past him and he could only shrug as he followed him. “Baieyu only bites who I tell him to.” 

  “I know that now, but I’m still not risking it.” They walked for some time until they were away from most of the disciples and non-cultivators. 

  “Why do you do that?” Jiang Wanyin asked suddenly, turning around and putting a hand on his chest to stop him. 

  “Do what?” Nie Mingjue asked back because he genuinely didn’t know. “Help you rebuild Lotus Pier? I thought we alre-...”

  “No, no that! The pranks! Why do you always let the juniors prank you? Why do you always let me prank you? Surely, by now you can know when they are about to prank you!” He interrupted him, shaking his head and looking down. “Why do you always make a fool out of yourself?” 

  “Because I like it. It’s good.” He shrugged again, lifting his hands to rub them against Wanyin’s arms. 

  “But people always laugh at you in the end. How are you not ashamed by that or even bothered? Don’t you think  He took a deep breath and Nie Mingjue only shrugged again. 

  “Because it makes people laugh and a good laugh it’s always good no matter what caused it. And because it makes you laugh too and I would do practically anything to make you laugh.” At that, Wanyin looked up at him with raised eyebrows and wide eyes.

  "What?" He whispered and fisted Nie Minjue's robes with more force than necessary. "What does this mean?" 

  "It means that I like seeing you laughing, It means that I like being the reason why you are laughing." He cupped his face, caressing his cheek and smiling. He was sure that he was looking like a fool. Maybe a fool in love, but a fool still. "It means that I like you." Slowly, giving time for Wanyin to back off, he closed the distance between them and kissed his lips with only a barely there touch. 

  "Fuck!" Jiang Wanyin whispered heatedly before looking up to him and pulling him down to a more heated and heavier kiss. His hands fell down from his face to his waist and he pulled him against him, feeling his neck getting hugged. "Holy fuck!" He said, making Mingjue chuckle loudly. "I see what you mean about liking to make me laugh. It's a good sensation." 

  "It is, it is." He nodded, thumbing the side of his waist and watching as his cheeks got adorable red. "You're adorable." 

  "Yeah, yeah, whatever. C'mon, we need a bath." He waved him off before grabbing his hand and pulling him along. "Then we can kiss again and go to the dinner the elders are giving.” 

  “Alright!” He smiled, kissing his cheek quickly and laughing when Wanyin turned to him with narrowed eyes and cheeks aflame. 

  Later after the bath and the dinner, both of them would lay down on Jiang Cheng’s - because now he got to call him by his given name, even if he highly doubted he would stop calling him Wanyin. The name was simply too beautiful to not be called - bed and talk. They would talk about everything and nothing and see what they should expect from them and Nie Mingjue would say that he was planning on starting a courtship if Jiang Cheng wanted. Later, Jiang Cheng would laugh at him and say that yes, he wanted the courtship but only if Baieyu got to participate in the ceremony and, then, laugh some more at Nie Mingjue’s sour face. 

♡

♡

♡

  “It means that I like you.” Nie-zongzhu said and Zhou Min’s breath caught up on her throat as he leaned down to kiss their leader. 

  “Holy shit.” She whispered as her sister, Zhou Nuo, giggled beside her. “Finally.”

  “Nie-gongzi is going to be so mad that he lost the bet to Wang-shixiong, of all people.” She giggled again and Wang Yin had to swallow down a cackle as Zhou Min shivered again. 

  “Oh, I’m going to win so much money on Nie-gongzi.” He cackled maddily and beside them all Zhao Shuhan, the first disciple, sighed heavily. 

  “I really think we shouldn’t be spying on our Sect Leader snogging with Nie-zongzhu.” Zhao Shuhan said, putting his hand on his face and sighing even more. “Especially if they are snogging.” 

 “Oh, mood-killer.” Zhou Min rolled her eyes and turned to him. “They took so long to get together. Let us enjoy this a little.” Zhao Shuhan took a deep breath before looking over at her to see them hugging and sighed again. 

  “Ok, just five more minutes.” He shook his head and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. 

  Oh, Nie-gongzi was going to be so pissed that he lost the bet.

[ibijau]

here we go, last fic of the year! It’s Lan Sizhui/Jin Ling, a/b/o, set in the same universe as Petrichor, but can be read as a stand alone :)

Someday, Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi are going to get married.

It is not something that anybody really talks about, and more an accepted fact of life. They have been friends for as long as they can remember, they are both in good position for being sect leader after Lan Xichen, they work well as a team. At fifteen, Lan Sizhui presented as an alpha. Some months later, Lan Jingyi surprised everyone by presenting as an omega, and that settled things. People around them started talking about them as an established couple in spite of their youth, because they’d never have been so close if they were not somehow fated, right?

Neither of them minds. Not really. It’s convenient for everyone after all.

“It’s not like I’m what anyone wants in an omega,” Lan Jingyi points out when, one day, Lan Sizhui asks him if he’s really okay with that. “Aside from you, I’ve never met an alpha I didn’t want to punch in the face after five minutes. Even betas I can barely stand.”

“Hanguang-Jun too?”

“Hanguang-Jun is way above everyone else, beta or alpha or anything,” Lan Jingyi protests. “I guess I could marry him, if he wanted…”

Grimacing at the thought, Lan Sizhui elbows his friend in the ribs, but that only makes him laugh.

“I’d become your new dad,” Lan Jingyi insists with starry eyes. “Would you call me dad, daddy, or father?” 

Lan Sizhui rolls his eyes. He should have known that his friend wouldn’t take the conversation seriously. Still, he feels a little better about the situation. Lan Jingyi isn’t without his faults, but he isn’t one to bottle up his emotions. If he really minded that everyone assumes they’re an item, he would have jumped on the chance to say so.

That’s good enough for Lan Sizhui. He doesn’t want romance. He’s seen what he did to his father, to his uncle, leaving one branded by shame and the other broken for years. It just doesn’t feel worth the trouble. What Lan Jingyi and him have isn’t the stuff of great stories, sure, but it’s stable and it's safe. Security is far more important than something as ridiculous as love.

-

 When Lan Sizhui is nineteen, there starts being talk of making their engagement into something formal. Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren ask them to give it serious consideration. They are both orphans, so there is no direct pressure put on them, but Lan Sizhui gets the impression that Lan Qiren at least is particularly in favour of the match. Neither of his nephews has had children, and they're unlikely to ever do, between Lan Wangji's character and Lan Xichen's delicate situation. Lan Sizhui isn't a Lan by blood, but he is well liked by juniors and elders alike. Lan Jingyi doesn't have that diplomacy, but he is a cousin to the Lan jades. If they get together, it would avoid the risk of disputes when the time comes to choose a new sect leader: they can just rule conjointly and leave it at that. Lan Xichen is less insistent than his uncle, and says it's important they choose carefully. It's clear, though, that he doesn't disagree with Lan Qiren's position.

Meanwhile, Lan Wangji doesn’t like this.

He doesn’t say so, because he wants Lan Sizhui to make his own choices in life, and he will support his son through anything as long as it is not endangering his life. Still, he radiates disapproval when Lan Sizhui reports on that conversation with his uncle and great-uncle.

Most people wouldn’t guess, but Lan Wangji is a romantic at heart.

Lan Sizhui isn’t. 

Well. He tries hard not to be.

But now that this engagement business is turning into something serious, he’s a little less sure about it.

It is nice, of course, to know exactly what the future holds. There's comfort in that. Lan Sizhui likes knowing what to expect, he likes safety, he likes knowing that tomorrow will be very much like today.

And he loves Lan Jingyi of course. They’ve been friends for years, and they know each other better than anyone else. But it’s not the sort of love that makes them want to kiss and get in bed together. He’s sure of that, because they’ve tried kissing once or twice, to see how that’d feel, and it was just weird. Lan Jingyi's smell, like grass freshly cut and summer warmth, doesn't evoke any strong desire in him. That's a problem because if they get married, they’ll have to make love. And it’s not that Lan Jingyi is ugly or misshapen or anything, but the idea doesn’t sit right. All Lan Sizhui can hope for is that when they’re bonded, once his ruts and Lan Jingyi’s heats coincide, it’ll sort itself out.

(that still leaves the issue of that initial bonding, but if Lan Sizhui doesn’t think about it, then it’s not an issue)

It’s a comfort of sorts when the morning after they talked to Lan Qiren, Lan Jingyi looks as awkward about the situation as Lan Sizhui feels.

“Are we really doing this?” Lan Jingyi whispers to him, even though they’re in class and really shouldn’t be talking at all, least of all about something like that.

“If you want,” Lan Sizhui replies, his voice as low as possible to avoid attracting Lan Qiren’s attention. “We still have time to decide.”

“Yeah, right. I mean, it could be worse, right? We get along fine, we know that already.”

It is a blessing indeed. Most people in their position would just be dumped into an arranged marriage, and consider themselves lucky to not end up with someone they despise.

Still, Lan Sizhui is glad that they don’t have to give an answer right away.

-

When they meet Jin Ling on Dafan Mountain, Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi immediately agree that he is a bit of a spoiled brat.

It’s no surprise of course. The only heir to a sect like Lanling Jin, with also some rights over Yunmeng Jiang? It would have taken the world’s best parents to prevent that boy from being a little rotten, and as everyone knows well, Jin Ling doesn’t have parents.

In truth, Lan Sizhui feels a little sorry for him, not least of all because that boy is related to Jiang Wanyin, and Lan Sizhui pities anyone who must deal with that man on a regular basis. Only a truly awful person could be so disliked by Lan Wangji.

It’s also quickly apparent that Jin Ling is, for lack of a better term, a little awkward. He reacts to Lan Jingyi’s light teasing as if he was being insulted (in fairness, Lan Jingyi sometimes walks a fine line between the two, and he’s a little on edge after that business in Mo village) and takes himself far too seriously. He is also impossibly stubborn, and surprisingly reckless for someone so aware of his own self-importance.

“What a brat that was,” Lan Jingyi complains on the way back to Cloud Recesses. “No need to question what he’ll present as, he’s got alpha written all over his face.”

“No gossiping,” Lan Sizhui reminds him, his eyes darting toward Lan Wangji who, thankfully, pays them no mind. All his attention is on that lunatic he has decided to protect from Jiang Wanyin. “And you can’t go guessing at people’s fate like that. Sect leader Lan doesn’t look like an omega, does he? You just never know until it’s there.”

Lan Jingyi takes a moment to consider that.

“He is spoiled and prissy enough that he could be an omega,” he concedes, as if that’s the point Lan Sizhui was trying to make. “Still, I’m betting on alpha, and a very annoying one at that. I hope we never have to see him again.”

“Sect Leader Jin has no child of his own, so Jin Rulan is his heir. Of course we’re going to see him again.”

The face Lan Jingyi makes at the news is such that Lan Sizhui can’t help laughing a little too loud. Lan Wangji turns to look at him, curious more than scolding. That odd man on the donkey, Mo Xuanyu, also looks at them as if he wants to join in the fun, but dares not because of Lan Wangji keeping a close eye on him.

It’s funny, Lan Sizhui thinks. His father doesn’t usually care much about people. He likes the juniors, especially all the ones whose education he had a part in, but people he meets when they’re already adults, or people close to his age… if at all possible, Lan Wangji just ignores them. Maybe he feels sorry for Mo Xuanyu, who seems to have had a rough life? Or maybe it’s something else. Mo Xuanyu has an eccentric personality, but Lan Sizhui too can’t help feeling a certain sympathy for this very odd omega.

-

They meet Jin Ling again far sooner than Lan Sizhui would have expected, and if betting weren't forbidden, Lan Jingyi would have won. In the short time since they saw him, Jin Ling has presented as an alpha. 

It's no surprise, of course. Although there are exceptions, people born within the main branch of a clan are almost always alphas, at least for the first few children. Aside from sect leader Lan who is an omega and sect leader Nie who is a beta, even within the smallest sects there's hardly any ruler that's not an alpha. 

It does make a complicated situation a little worse. Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi and a group of juniors were on a trip to a Night Hunt when they started being led astray by dead cats and mysteries. They then met juniors from other sects, as well as Jin Ling, travelling alone, who immediately tries to be in charge. Lan Sizhui calmly puts an end to that. It's not unusual for a young alpha, especially one still getting used to changes in their body. He can't even control his smell at all, sweet and flowery with a hint of spice which Lan Jingyi complains is making him nauseous.

It's all normal, of course. Lan Sizhui too had a brief phase where he tested everyone's patience. So for Jin Ling who is already hot-headed and proud… 

To make it worse, Lan Jingyi won't stop arguing with Jin Ling. They can't go five minutes without getting into a fight of some sort. They snap at each other about the road to take, the inn to stay at, how loud Jin Ling's dog barks, Mo Xuanyu's donkey, whether to warn their respective sects or not… If a disagreement can be had, they will have it. 

At first, Lan Sizhui tries to intervene. Someone has to make sure that these two don't throttle each other. He knows that Lan Jingyi is no delicate flower and can take anyone in a fight, but he still has a responsibility as the oldest alpha present, so he gently puts Jin Ling in his place when needed. Surprisingly, Jin Ling usually backs off pretty easily once Lan Sizhui gets involved in a dispute. Lan Sizhui really expected that they would come to blows at least once. That too would be normal, especially since Jin Ling is obviously aching for a chance to prove himself, but it never happens. 

After a few days, Lan Sizhui doesn't bother stopping the fights anymore. Jin Ling shouts a lot and plays tough, but he never displays any sign of real aggression towards anyone. If anything he seems to have fun when Lan Jingyi and him argue with each other, and the opposite is just as true. 

Maybe that's just how Jin Ling plays, Lan Sizhui figures. He really is a very awkward boy after all. Already back on Dafan Mountain he was so brash and haughty with everyone. He was also alone back then, with only his uncle and other adults around him. Now too, he is the only one who doesn't have anyone from his clan with him. He has his dog, sure, but that's not the same. 

"Be nice to him," Lan Sizhui tells Lan Jingyi after yet another dispute, one where he had to intervene for the first time in a while. "I don't think he has a lot of friends." 

"You bet he doesn't. He treated Ouyang Zizhen like dirt just because he's a beta! Who'd want to be friends with someone like that? He could be tolerable if he just stopped acting like such a little mistress, but I guess that's too much to ask. Between the two of us, you wouldn't think I'm the omega." 

It's a little unkind to both boys, but part of Sizhui almost agrees. Lan Jingyi has never really behaved the way people expect an omega to do, and as for Jin Ling… with his pretty, boyish face, his elegant flowery smell, and the way he always backs off the instant Lan Sizhui gets involved in a fight, he could somewhat feel like an omega. 

Except he only behaves like that with Lan Sizhui. With everyone else, he pushes for dominance as much as he can, and he's so stubborn, from a sect so powerful, that even older alphas in their group have started bowing to him. 

It's weird, really. Lan Sizhui doesn't know what to make of it. 

"He'll never learn to play nice if you don't show him how," Lan Sizhui says after some thought. "Don't think I haven't noticed you're the one starting half those fights. If you don't like him, just stay away. It's wrong to pick fights without reasons." 

Lan Jingyi shrugs, which is against the rules because it is insolent. 

“He likes it when I bother him,” Lan Jingyi boldly accuses. “Being half raised by someone like Jiang Cheng…”

“Jiang Wanyin.”

“Raised by someone like Jiang Wanyin in a place like Lotus Piers, that little mistress must think shouting at people is how you behave around others. Don’t you remember how his uncle was on Dafan mountain? Scolding him and telling him to succeed at his hunt or die trying, and then coming to save him at the first sign of trouble… no wonder the little mistress is so annoying, he learned from the best.”

That had struck Lan Sizhui as well, mostly because of the risks Jin Ling had been willing to take after being shouted at. As if he really feared that his uncle wouldn’t let him come home again if he couldn’t kill the monster. He can’t imagine being uncertain of his family’s love like that. Lan Wangji, Lan Xichen, and even Lan Qiren would never, ever threaten Lan Sizhui in such a manner, and even if they did he would know better than to take the words literally.

He really feels sorry for that boy.

“Just try to be nicer,” he insists. “Teach by example. He’ll be sect leader someday, we really shouldn’t be antagonising him this way.”

The sect leader argument works. It usually does. Lan Jingyi promises to make an effort.

There’s no argument until early afternoon the next day and in fairness to Lan Jingyi, that does count as progress.

-

Yi-City is not a fun place, not by far. There’s thick billowing fog, there’s fierce corpses, half their group gets poisoned, Mo Xuanyu tricks them into eating the worst food they’ve ever tasted by calling it a cure… Lan Sizhui isn’t one to complain (it is against the rules) but he comes very, very close a few times. 

When it’s over, he tells himself that it’s a great learning experience. Mo Xuanyu is eccentric, but definitely not mad, and he knows far more about fighting evil than anyone Lan Sizhui has ever met, except maybe Lan Wangji. He is a little… brusque with them, pushing around the group of juniors and clearly delighting in scaring them a little if he feels it’s good for their education. But he is kind as well. He’s trying to hide it, but there’s a certain gentleness in the way Mo Xuanyu behaves around Jin Ling that he doesn’t really have with the rest of them.

To Lan Sizhui’s surprise, the reverse is equally true. Jin Ling grumbles and complains and stomps his foot, but he seems to like Mo Xuanyu and tries to help him whenever the chance arises. Seeing these two interact makes something go a little soft in Lan Sizhui’s chest. 

It’s nice when family can reconnect.

-

After everything that happened in Yi City, Lan Wangji allows them a little celebration. They get to burn colourful paper money and to organise a little party of sorts at an inn, without any adult supervision, too. Lan Wangji and Mo Xuanyu have retired for the night, presumably to discuss everything that has happened and decide on their next move. Lan Sizhui half wishes he could be involved in that conversation, but that’s mostly because he knows he’s supposed to want to be serious and grown up. In truth, being down here in the dining room with the others is a lot more fun.

While all the other juniors mingle together, Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui find themselves at a table a little away from the rest, in the company of Ouyang Zizhen and Jin Ling.

“We’re all future Sect Leaders, so it makes sense to sit together, right?” Ouyang Zizhen explains, boldly glossing over the fact that his sect is nowhere near the size of theirs. “And from here, we’ve got a good view of the entire room, so we can make sure that nobody misbehaves.”

“I never realised you were so serious,” Lan Jingyi sneers. “Senior Mo complimented you once, so now you want to be praised by him again?”

“You’re just jealous,” Ouyang Zizhen retorts with a grin. “Who is that man, anyway? He’s not dressed like any sect I know, but for Hanguang-Jun to respect him like this…”

“He’s just some crazy loon,” Lan Jingyi claims. “We met him a while back.”

Then, since Ouyang Zizhen expresses interest, Lan Jingyi starts telling him the whole story of their encounter with Mo Xuanyu. Lan Sizhui, who was there, allows himself to check out from the conversation and eats a little. He is startled when after a few moments, someone drops mushrooms in his bowl. 

"Don't like those," Jin Ling huffs. "And you ate yours first." 

"They're my favourite," Lan Sizhui admits, a little embarrassed at being caught like that. Being a picky eater and indulging in preferences is frowned upon, but he is only human.

"Can't see why," Jin Ling mutters. "They're slimy and disgusting. Do you want the rest of mine as well?" 

It's a testament to how engrossed he is in his conversation with Ouyang Zizhen that Lan Jingyi doesn't pick up on that extremely rude offer. Lan Sizhui almost wants to remark on Jin Ling's manners, but decides against it and just nods. It's obvious the other boy is trying to be nice, and that must be encouraged. 

After the mushrooms are unceremoniously dumped in Lan Sizhui's bowl, Jin Ling insistently stares at him while he eats. He looks angry, but Lan Sizhui has figured by now that's just his normal face. 

“Earlier… you fought decently,” Jin Ling suddenly says, in a tone that makes it sound like it hurts him to say even that weak of a compliment.

“You did well yourself,” Lan Sizhui replies far more earnestly. Lan Wangji has taught him the importance of encouraging good behaviours rather than to just punish bad ones, and Jin Ling is definitely making an effort here. Besides, he did fight surprisingly well, considering his age. “I hope we can go on more Night Hunts together. Although perhaps next time, let’s go somewhere a little less dangerous, at least until we’re experienced enough.”

Jin Ling's face does something funny, like he's happy and angry at the same time. It's kind of cute, if Lan Sizhui is honest.

"Oh we should all four go Night Hunting together!" Ouyang Zizhen exclaims. "We're friends now, right?" 

"That sounds right," Lan Sizhui quickly agrees before Jin Ling has a chance to say something rude. "I know I'd love to spend more time with the two of you. Hopefully next time, we won't be put in mortal danger." 

Lan Jingyi laughs at that, but more importantly Jin Ling begrudgingly admits that he too wouldn't be against another inter-sect Night Hunt, even though he looked ready to protest when it was Ouyang Zizhen offering it. It seems he really respects Lan Sizhui's authority as an older alpha though, and that's extremely flattering. 

-

The next time they see each other they are, in fact, in mortal danger again. 

It bothers Lan Sizhui less than it should, but only because there's something odd about this cave they're trapped in. Some of the other juniors trapped with them say this is the Burial Mounds, but that's… There's such an air of familiarity to this place, and yet Lan Sizhui knows he's never come here before. Unlike some others in his generation, Lan Wangji has never been one to go on grimly triumphant pilgrimages to those places where the cultivation world rose as one against evil. Lan Sizhui has never seen Yiling, nor even Nightless City.

Still, this cave… it shouldn’t be so bare, nor so silent. There is a wrongness to that silence. Lan Sizhui cannot explain why, but he feels like this place should have more life to it.

He cannot explain either why it seems so right to see Mo Xuanyu… ah, no, Wei wuxian step inside, followed by his Ghost General and Lan Wangji. Something falls in place inside Lan Sizhui’s soul, a certain sensation that things are as they should be. Seeing these three together, in this place… Lan Sizhui half wants to cry, and he can’t explain why.

That unbidden and unexplained surge of emotions must be why he eventually snaps at one of Jin Ling’s cousins. Lan Sizhui feels a little guilty over it, although in fairness, that boy deserves his anger. He insulted Hanguang-Jun, which was unacceptable, and Wei Wuxian which… for some reason was equally unpleasant. And for the entire time they’d been there, Jin Chan had been irritating, somehow unable to say two words without finding a reason to be mean to everyone around him, especially to Jin Ling.

Of course Lan Sizhui lost patience. He doesn’t like when people are cruel to his friends.

-

That protectiveness becomes a problem a few hours later.

So much has happened in a short span of time, they’ve been rescued, they’ve been attacked, there have been accusations and betrayal, there’s been…

Lan Sizhui feels sick to his bones when the bloodied corpses of dead Wens emerge from a bloody pond to protect Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning, but not in the way he thinks he’s supposed to feel sick. His chest aches looking at those horrifying shapes, and if Lan Jingyi hadn’t stopped him, he would have walked to them because if he could just see their face, if he could take their hands… but he doesn’t get the chance, and they crumble into dust before he can figure out why those dead people felt like they were his, just like Wen Ning and Wei Wuxian do.

Lan Sizhui is still confused when they get down the mountain to climb onto some boats, and exhausted as well. So when Jin Ling starts acting up about Wen Ning, shouting and letting his flowery smell invade the space around him, Lan Sizhui doesn’t react as gracefully as he might have otherwise. 

He hates seeing anyone being cruel to Wen Ning who he knows, with the greatest certainty, is a kind soul who only ever means to care for those he loves. Lan Sizhui can’t help wanting to shield him from those who would harm him, because someone has to, and auntie isn’t here to do it anymore.

At the same time, Jin Ling’s pain hurts as well. There’s something unbearable about seeing him break into tears, about the betrayed looks he shoots at Lan Sizhui for daring to side with his father’s murderer.

They’d been getting along so well, they’d made such a great team fighting those fierce corpses earlier, but now it’s all gone. Lan Sizhui wonders if Jin Ling will ever forgive him for standing at the Ghost General’s side, and nearly wants to cry as well when he realises the answer is probably going to be no. He wants to reach out to Jin Ling and explain he doesn’t mean to hurt him, that they can still be friends, that he just can’t let Wen Ning be hurt again.

Before Lan Sizhui can move, Jiang Cheng calls his nephew from another boat, and demands Jin Ling join him. The order is promptly obeyed, Jin Ling turning away without so much as a last look at Lan Sizhui.

Lan Sizhui sits down, and tells himself if his heart and head hurt so bad, it’s only out of exhaustion.

-

When everything is over, when Jin Guangyao is dead, Lan Sizhui gets to hug the man he once thought of as his father when he was really little, and to see him stand happy at the side of the other man who raised him. Things have been an awful mess, but Lan Sizhui is so happy for both of them.

Nobody deserves happiness more than Lan Wangji, and even though they don’t know each other too well, Lan Sizhui really likes Wei Wuxian a lot.

Leaving those two to explore what the future can bring them, Lan Sizhui instead takes a trip to the past as he decides to accompany Wen Ning.

First of all, they go to the Burial Mounds once again, this time to gather the ashes of their family. Their people, who paid the price of being on the wrong side of a war they didn’t even want. Lan Sizhui still doesn’t really remember much, but he likes hearing Wen Ning telling him stories about them. It makes him feel a little more complete, even though he never particularly felt like anything was missing from his life until that day in Mo manor.

After giving their relatives a proper burial, they head toward Nightless City, or what’s left of it anyway. Here too, Wen Ning has stories to tell, some of which are happier than Lan Sizhui would have expected. It feels wrong to hear that Wen Ruohan wasn’t always a monster, that he was also a man who loved his sons and played with them when they were children. Lan Sizhui was never taught to fear and hate the Yiling Patriarch as much as others of his generation, but he’s heard plenty about the horror committed by Wen Ruohan and struggles to accept that he, too, was only a man after all.

He wonders if that is how Jin Ling feels about Wen Ning.

In fact, Lan Sizhui thinks a lot about Jin Ling as the weeks pass. Whatever judgement he ever felt for the younger alpha regarding his attitude to Wen Ning has melted away now, replaced by deep sympathy. Jin Ling is only fourteen, and Wen Ning did kill his father, so it’s normal that he would feel so angry. Some things cannot be forgiven. And now that Lan Sizhui is a Wen too, he figures that there’s no friendship possible between them, not after how much sorry his family has caused Jin Ling’s.

For some reason, Lan Sizhui realises he is truly upset about this. He had really been looking forward to knowing Jin Ling better, because while Lan Jingyi is an amazing friend, he’s still not an alpha, and there are things he doesn’t understand. Lan Jingyi now has Ouyang Zizhen to chat with, who as a beta is in a good position to lend an ear, but Lan Sizhui doesn’t really have any close alphas in his life.

He really wanted to be close to Jin Ling.

It won’t happen now.

It’s fine.

At least now, he has a family.

-

Wen Ning and Lan Sizhui have just finished a Night Hunt far into what was once Wen territory when news from the Cloud Recesses reach them. They learn that Lan Xichen, a little while after the events that unfolded in Yunping City, entered seclusion. They learn also that Lan Wangji has married Wei Wuxian, who is rumoured to be with child. Without even needing to talk about it, they immediately start heading back toward Gusu. Lan Sizhui has always thought it would be nice to have a sibling, and now that wish is about to be granted.

By the time they get to the Cloud Recesses, Wei Wuxian is very, very round and very, very upset that he’s being restricted left and right. He’s not allowed a number of his favourite foods, he’s not allowed to experiment with talismans, or to run around, or even to read for too long.

“It is the worst,” Wei Wuxian whines from his bed, surrounded by pillows, nibbling on some snacks that Lan Wangji brought him when he served tea for all of them. “I have never suffered so much in my life. Sizhui, if you marry an omega, you’re forbidden from knocking them up, it is just too awful.”

Lan Sizhui almost snorts in his tea. He glances at Lan Wangji who is watching Wei Wuxian with open adoration, at least for who knows how to read his expressions.

It makes his heart ache that he will probably never know that sort of love. After all, he’s still half engaged to Lan Jingyi as far as he knows. And aside from his best friend, who’d want to marry him? He isn’t sure if he’s still allowed to be part of Gusu Lan. He isn’t sure he still wants to be part of it, now that he knows the truth… and it’s always a little hard for an alpha without resources to marry. Jingyi would, of course, because he’s loyal like that, but Lan Sizhui feels he should insist on dropping whatever understanding existed between them. It would be kinder.

Luckily, when Lan Jingyi comes to see him that evening, he is of a similar opinion.

As the two of them walk toward the rabbits’ clearing to feed them and chat alone, Lan Jingyi starts explaining, very awkwardly, that he won’t be able to marry Lan Sizhui after all.

“It’s Zizhen, you see,” he mumbles when they reach the clearing, his entire face red. “We’ve gone on a few Night Hunts after you left, and we get along really well, and… well, Lan Qiren isn’t too happy about it because he was still hoping on me being Zewu-Jun’s heir rather than Hanguang-Jun’s child, but of course Zizhen is going to inherit his father’s sect someday, it’s so messy when two sect leaders are married! He was still trying to push for that, but then that thing with sect leader Nie and Zewu-Jun happened, and Lan Qiren is seeing what a mess that is, so he’s warming up to the idea of me marrying into Baling Ouyang.”

Kneeling down to hand some cabbage to a particularly bold rabbit, Lan Sizhui shoots his friend a curious look.

“What about Zewu-Jun and sect leader Nie?”

“Oh, right, you wouldn’t have heard!” Lan Jingyi exclaims, startling the poor rabbit and making it run. He sits down next to Lan Sizhui, and grins. “Listen, gossip’s forbidden and all that, but… you’ve heard that Zewu-Jun was marked in his youth, and nobody knows who the alpha is, right? Well, listen to that!”

That, it turns out, is a convoluted tale of romance, deception, and betrayal that spanned over a decade and recently culminated into the recent engagement of Lan Xichen to Nie Huaisang, much to the bafflement of the entire cultivation world.

Lan Sizhui is happy for his uncle, of course. He’s always tried to ignore gossip, but it’s never been possible to avoid all of it, and even within the Cloud Recesses there have always been those who judged their sect leader for that youthful mistake. It’s a little odd to think that the great Zewu-Jun would settle for the Headshaker, but Lan Jingyi swears that Lan Xichen looks more at peace than he had in many years, and so does Lan Sizhui himself when he gets to see his uncle a few days later.

Lan Sizhui is happy, sharing the joy of all these people he loves and who are finding the happiness they want. Even Lan Qiren is probably less angry than he pretends to be. He loves his nephews after all, and he’s always wanted their happiness.

Lan Sizhui is happy, and tries not to feel left out, tries not to resent the fact that while everyone has found happiness in the past year, all he’s gotten is people to mourn, and a fear that he could be killed if anyone found out who he really is.

“I guess we’re going to have a lot of weddings coming,” Lan Sizhui notes, swallowing whatever bitterness he isn’t allowed to feel, choosing instead to grab one of the rabbits and pet it. “I wonder who’s next… do you know if Jin Ling has met any nice omega?”

The idea, for some reasons, makes his heart clench so tight that it nearly makes him sick. Only because then, he’d really be the only one left out, Lan Sizhui figures.

It’s a relief when Lan Jingyi laughs and shakes his head.

“That little mistress? No omega could put up with him!” he mocks. “He is so annoying and stuck up and… but at least, he’s been nice about me and Zizhen. Supportive even! He said if Zizhen’s dad and old man Lan Qiren keep being old farts about this, we can run off to Carp Tower, he’ll take us into Lanling Jin and let us marry. Not that I’d ever want to be a Jin,” Lan Jingyi sniffs disdainfully, “but I appreciate the intention I guess.”

Lan Sizhui lowers his head to hide a smile. Jin Ling isn’t without faults, but at heart he really is a good person, and a good alpha. It really is a shame that there is so much history between their families, because Lan Sizhui really would have liked to…

“He’s been asking about you a lot, you know,” Lan Jingyi remarks, which startles Lan Sizhui.

“Who has?”

“The little mistress of course. We’ve been on a couple Night Hunts with him, and every time he’s asking where you’ve gone, and when you’ll be back, and why you left without saying anything… He really won’t shut up about you. You should write to him and let him know you’re fine, just so he’ll stop pestering me.”

Lan Sizhui’s hand stills in the rabbit's fur, his heart racing in his chest, his face heating up. He can’t figure out why Jin Ling would miss him, they didn’t really get the chance to get close after all, but the idea is… pleasant. Lan Sizhui himself has certainly thought a lot about Jin Ling while he was travelling with Wen Ning. Mostly to mourn this friendship that never had a chance to bloom, but also just because sometimes they passed by a pretty landscape that he wishes he could have shown to the other alpha, or they fought a creature against which Jin Ling’s skill with a bow would have helped, or they passed by some fragrant peonies in bloom, or just because it would have been funny to hear him complain about this and that.

Lan Sizhui wants, very badly, to write to Jin Ling, to see him even. He knows, also, that it would be a bad idea.

If he tells Jin Ling about who he is, and his link to Wen Ning, then he is endangering himself, and risking the good reputation of Lan Wangji who saved him and hid him for years. If he doesn’t tell Jin Ling anything, then it’s a form of deception, since he knows the other alpha would never want his friendship if he knew the truth.

It’s safer, then, to simply stay away.

Still, Lan Sizhui enjoys being missed, more than he probably should.

 -

Lan Sizhui never realised how sad his uncle was, until he went into his room in a Qinghe inn alongside Lan Wangji to help him get ready on the morning of his wedding. It is no secret that the road has been somewhat bumpy for Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang, that even to this day they have their disagreements, but it is just as clear that Lan Xichen is the happiest he's ever been, on that warm morning of late summer. 

Lan Sizhui wonders what it feels like to marry, and for love, too, not just for politics. 

For some reason, his mind immediately wanders to Jin Ling. He's still young of course, and his position is too fragile, but someday he'll marry someone, a pretty little omega from a good family. And then, Lan Sizhui will be the only one of their little group to remain single, since Lan Jingyi and Ouyang Zizhen have finally obtained the engagement they wanted. They're hoping to marry next spring, if all goes well.

There's no shame in being single, of course, especially for an alpha, but the more Lan Sizhui realises he's unlikely to marry, the sadder he gets. It would be nice to Night Hunt with another person, to find his equal, his perfect match like his fathers did. Someone strong and determined but still kind, someone like… 

"I wish I didn't have to bother with that veil," Lan Xichen sighs, eyeing the fabric that Lan Sizhui is holding in clenched fists. "It's ridiculous. He knows what I look like."

"It is traditional," Lan Wangji retorts. 

"Did you make Wei Wuxian wear one then?" 

Lan Wangji smirks, ever so slightly. "Eloping has advantages." 

Lan Xichen freezes, blinking a few times. Like almost all of them, he is still a little upset that his brother married in secret. Still, soon enough he is laughing, and turns to look at Lan Sizhui. 

"Some example we are giving you," Lan Xichen remarks, taking the veil from his nephew. "I hope you will be more serious than us when your time comes."

"But father and uncle are very happy," Lan Sizhui notes, allowing himself a moment of insolence on this joyous day. "Surely it gives the impression that breaking rules and ignoring traditions is rather rewarding."

Lan Xichen laughs again as he pins the veil in place, and even Lan Wangji can't help a slight huff, his eyes smiling proudly at his son. 

"I suppose we make bad cases for obedience," Lan Xichen admits. "Not all rules are worth following. And you are a clever young man, so I'm sure the path you'll choose will be a righteous one, and that you'll find a partner worthy of you." 

Lan Sizhui nods. His thoughts, again, go to Jin Ling. Hopefully he too will find a good person. After so much tragedy in his life, he deserves to have someone in his life who will stick with him and be loyal and honest. That’s the very least Jin Ling deserves.

His veil in place but not yet lowered, Lan Xichen stands, smoothing non-existent creases in his robes, making sure that everything is perfect. He looks nervous, as any spouse-to-be can be expected to be. 

Mostly though, he looks happy, and there is no hesitation in his steps when he heads out of the room to go meet his groom.

Nie Huaisang is a lucky man who’d better not mess this up.

 -

The banquet offered by Qinghe Nie to the wedding’s guests is nothing short of magnificent. Whatever faults he has, Nie Huaisang is a good host, who knows how to please people. There are many dishes, fit for every taste, and over half of those are suitable for vegetarians. Lan Sizhui, however, finds himself without much appetite on this happy day.

He really is never going to be Lan sect leader now. Not when he knows who he truly is, not when his father has a daughter of his own blood who is probably only the first of many, not when his uncle too might now have children. It’s a relief, because Lan Sizhui isn’t sure he ever wanted that responsibility in the first place, no more than he would have wanted to marry Lan Jingyi, if he’s honest. But it drives home once more the fact that he doesn’t know what the future holds for him anymore, and that is a little scary. 

Without meaning to, Lan Sizhui’s eyes start to wander toward the Jin guests, and rest on their young sect leader. It is the first time Lan Sizhui sees him in over a year, since that day in Yunping City. He looks taller, and a good deal less like a child, but that’s no surprise with everything that has changed for him. Jin Ling seems to be growing into a serious young man. A handsome one as well, but that’s hardly a surprise, the Jins usually have their good looks going for them, even if their personalities can be lacking… though Jin Ling has both a good face and a good heart, of course.

Lan Sizhui must have stared too long, because after a while, Jin Ling notices, looks in his direction, and smiles. It makes Lan Sizhui’s heart beat a little faster, until he remembers that there can be no friendship between them, not unless he lies.

In this too his life has changed. 

His mood taking a sour turn, Lan Sizhui excuses himself to Lan Jingyi, leaves his seat abruptly, and goes for a walk. Hopefully, the Nies won't mind too much that he is wandering a bit. If anyone asks, he'll say he is looking for the garden his uncle mentioned after some of his visits. 

No one asks. 

Lan Sizhui might as well be a ghost. 

He feels a bit like one, tied to a past tragedy that now defines him. The lone survivor of a sect that should be extinct, forced to decide if he should follow the teaching of the family that raised him, or try to find again those of a family he cannot remember. Either way, it would feel like betraying someone.

Just as Lan Sizhui finally finds that garden, he hears footsteps running after him. Before he even turns to look, he knows by the flowery smell that reaches him who decided to follow him.

“Lan Sizhui!” Jin Ling shouts as he gets closer. “Are you avoiding me?”

Lan Sizhui winces, unsure how to answer that without insulting or lying. He has been avoiding Jin Ling, but it would be unwise to admit it.

“It’s been ages!” Jin Ling insists, unbothered by the lack of reply. “And I know you know that you’re invited to come to Carp Tower whenever you like, because I told Jingyi to tell you, and he said that he told you!”

Lan Sizhui can’t fully repress a small smile. Lan Jingyi has, indeed, passed that invitation on to him. Lan Sizhui has assumed he was invited only out of politeness, to avoid offending another alpha due to the friendship Jin Ling has developed with the omega Lan Sizhui was once half expected to marry. It can’t have been anything more. Like Jin Ling says, it’s been a long time since they met.

“I am very sorry,” Lan Sizhui says, which is nothing but the truth. “I have been busy.”

He hesitates to say more than that. Considering Jin Ling’s distaste for Wen Ning, it is probably better not to mention him. It is a happy day, Lan Sizhui doesn’t want to ruin it.

Jin Ling, unimpressed, shrugs and steps closer. It is hard to ignore that he’s taller than Lan Sizhui now, his shoulders broader. Jin Ling is everything that an alpha ought to be, and Lan Sizhui almost envies whoever will get to be his omega.

“I know you’ve been busy,” Jin Ling retorts, crossing his arms on his chest, looking a little like the haughty boy he was when they first met. “Travelling places with the Ghost General and all that… but you’ve been back to Gusu for a few months, would it have been so hard to come say hi?”

“That’s…”

“You can even take Wen Ning with you if you want, I don’t care,” Jin Ling adds, rolling his eyes as if he can’t believe he has to spell it out. “I don’t hate him as much as I used to, and Lan Jingyi says he’s actually good company. Plus he’s related to you, isn’t he? So of course I want to learn to tolerate him better.”

Lan Sizhui gasps softly, his blood turning to ice at the thought that anyone might have guessed already. Of course he knew that people would talk after hearing that he travelled with Wen Ning, but somehow he’d hoped that nobody would realise why he was doing that, not yet, not so soon.

Jin Ling, again, rolls his eyes.

“Right, it’s supposed to be a secret I guess?” he snorts. “Well, I’m not a complete idiot, thanks. I can see that you look a bit like him, and my uncle told me more about when Wei Wuxian was living in the Burial Mounds, since I asked. He says there was a child there, and then I just had to do some math and… well, I’m right, aren’t I?”

“You’re right,” Lan Sizhui confirms, terrified and elated at once that he doesn’t need to keep that secret from Jin Ling. “You seem to be taking this rather well.”

Jin Ling shrugs, a touch of red colouring his cheeks.

“I’ve had time to get used to the idea,” he grumbles. “I was pretty pissed off at first when I realised, but then I figured it doesn’t change things that much. You’re still you, and I still want to be close to you, the rest doesn’t matter.”

Hearing this, Lan Sizhui’s face heats up.

“I’d like that as well,” he admits with a shy smile. “I thought you wouldn’t want for us to be friends if you knew, so this is a relief.”

“Of course I’d want to be friends anyway!” Jin Ling exclaims. “I don’t care if you’re a Wen, or a Lan, or whatever! You’re Sizhui, and I want us to be close, I don’t care about the rest!”

Lan Sizhui’s blush deepens, and he looks away, trying to contain a nervous laughter.

“Jin Ling, I’d have thought being a sect leader would have taught you to be more careful about what you say,” he teases. “You’re lucky we’re both alphas, or else your words might be misunderstood as something else.”

Jin Ling’s entire face turns so red the cinnabar dot on his forehead nearly disappears. It’s… it’s cute. It’s really cute, and Lan Sizhui knows he shouldn’t think of another alpha as being adorable, but he can’t help it.

“There’s nothing to misunderstand!” Jin Ling blurts out, fists clenched on either side of his body.

“Of course,” Lan Sizhui sighs, a little too amused that Jin Ling is still the same, even if he’s grown up. “I was just…”

“There’s nothing to misunderstand because that’s exactly the way I mean it!” Jin Ling cuts him, grabbing one of his hands and squeezing it just a little too tight. “I like you a lot, Lan Sizhui! And I don’t care that you’re a Wen, or that you’re an alpha, I still like you like that, so deal with it!”

Lan Sizhui gapes at the other alpha, stunned by those words he would never have expected.

If it were anyone else, he’d think of a joke. Or else, he’d think that this is just a younger alpha who admires an older one a little too much, as can happen. It’s not unheard of just after presenting, and it usually goes away quickly. In fact, if Jin Ling had said this back in Yi City, Lan Sizhui would have dismissed it as just a passing crush. But they haven’t seen each other in so long that Jin Ling should have grown out of that phase already. Beside, he looks and sounds dreadfully sure of himself.

And Lan Sizhui, who has never really given much thought to those few omega who tried to flirt with him, finds his heart racing in his chest at the idea that Jin Ling might like him.

“Jin Ling, that’s…”

“Don’t say anything!” Jin Ling orders, squeezing his hand harder. “You don’t get to say anything until you’ve really thought about it, and then you’ll have to come visit me in Carp Tower if you want to talk about it! But I mean this, so don’t treat me as a kid, and give it real thought. I’m serious about this, and if you don’t like me back yet, then I’ll just have to convince you!”

There won’t be much convincing needed, Lan Sizhui suspects, his eyes falling to their joined hands. He’s never thought of Jin Ling in that light before, but only because his whole life used to be so neatly mapped out for him.

Suddenly, that sense of uncertainty he’s been feeling since he understood where he comes from isn’t so scary anymore. The Lan Sizhui of before, half engaged to his best friend, half expected to become sect leader, could never have allowed himself to even think about Jin Ling in that light. The person he is now can, and he certainly will.

He’s already been thinking about Jin Ling more than he should, anyway.

“I’ll come to Carp Tower soon,” Lan Sizhui promises, carefully moving his hand to thread their fingers together.

He likes the hopeful way Jin Ling stares at him, his tone and gesture already betraying what his answer will be.

Lan Sizhui grins.

The future, once more, feels like something to look forward to.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Complications - ao3 or part 1, part 2

-

Nie Mingjue brought his hand down on the desk with a little too much strength, causing an audible crack that sounded not unlike thunder.

Wei Wuxian, who’d been pacing in front of his desk for longer than Nie Mingjue cared to contemplate, froze in place.

“Your increasingly less subtle insinuations aside, Sect Leader Jiang is, to the best of my knowledge, fine,” Nie Mingjue growled. “Now I’m going to ask for the second time, and this time I want an actual answer – why are you making your family disputes my problem?”

“Family disputes?” Wei Wuxian squawked, reverting back to his usual arrogance in his irritation. “My sect leader is missing, and your Nie sect has taken over his position in battle –”

“Someone had to, since you didn’t,” Nie Mingjue said, and watched as Wei Wuxian flinched. “I’ve already told you that he requested that I do it. I don’t actually think you doubt my word, and it’s already been over two months since he retired from the battlefield – why are you making such a fuss now?”

Wei Wuxian’s lips tightened.

“Is it because of the prisoners of war you brought back?” Nie Mingjue asked.

Wei Wuxian tensed. “What makes you say that?”

“Wen Qing was once a very promising doctor,” Nie Mingjue said. “And you have been very obviously looking for someone, the way you’ve been tearing through the battlefields and visit all the prisoner of war camps afterwards – you were clearly looking for her. The only thing I don’t understand is why.”

Wei Wuxian crossed his arms over his chest. “You said it yourself; she’s a doctor.”

“I’ve never heard of her having that sort of specialization, but I suppose anything is possible,” Nie Mingjue said. “But at any rate, it’s rather besides the point now, isn’t it? I just received word from my brother that although it came early, the danger was passed without great difficulty –”

Wei Wuxian actually grabbed the letter off of Nie Mingjue’s desk in an action so mindbogglingly rude that Nie Mingjue’s brain took a few moments to process that he’d actually done that.

“Wei Wuxian!” he roared.

“This letter doesn’t make any sense,” Wei Wuxian said, as if that was the problem with what he’d just done. “Are the references to him having good hips supposed to be some sort of code – ah!”

The last one was due to Baxia whistling through the air as she tore towards his throat, stopping only a hair’s breadth away.

“Do you know what you did wrong?” Nie Mingjue growled.

“I read your mail without asking for permission,” Wei Wuxian said, his eyes wide and round as the moon. “I was rude, and insulted you, and, uh – am extremely irritating?”

Nie Mingjue waved his hand and Baxia returned to her place, though he didn’t bother pulling back her menacing aura.  

“You’re not normally this disrespectful,” he growled. “Explain.”

Wei Wuxian’s shoulders were up by his ears. “You said there was a danger,” he mumbled. “I didn’t…was it really that serious?”

Nie Mingjue’s eyebrows went up. “Do you even know what the fatality rates involved are, especially when it comes as early as that?  It was extremely dangerous. Luckily, it seems everyone is safe.”

“Everyone? Did he – were other people put at risk?” Wei Wuxian started pacing again, much to Nie Mingjue’s annoyance. “I don’t know how qi deviations work. Was anyone else hurt?”

“Qi deviations?” Nie Mingjue said blankly, and unfortunately he put together that Jiang Cheng had apparently not told Wei Wuxian at approximately the same moment that Wei Wuxian figured out that Jiang Cheng had (apparently) lied to his face about where he was going.

“He said that was why he was going to ground with the Nie sect!” Wei Wuxian was all but exploding, his face bright red in futile anger. 

It occurred to Nie Mingjue that it was actually a relatively rare look on him, no matter how much people said things about the effects of demonic cultivation on the temperament. An interesting thought, to be followed up with at a later time.

“Because you had experience with – damnit! I can’t believe he – should have known – why did he go with you lot anyway? Sure, he likes Nie Huaisang well enough, but he could have gone to where shijie is, or with his grandmother, or – something!”

“Young Mistress Jiang is with the Jin sect; that would have been a disaster, and obviously there was no way to justify the risk of bringing her closer to battle just for his own comfort,” Nie Mingjue said, his own anger extinguished by the sheer amount by which he’d fucked this up. He hoped Jiang Cheng would forgive him. “And neither the Jiang sect or the Yu sect can spare doctors the way my Nie sect can.”

“What was wrong with him, then, if it wasn’t his qi or his golden core?” Wei Wuxian demanded. “Do you know? You do, don’t you? Why would he tell you and not me? Why –”

“Da-ge! Da-ge, are you here –”

Nie Mingjue closed his eyes briefly. That was the last thing he needed.

“Huaisang,” he said without opening his eyes. “Are you allowed in Heijan?”

“No,” his younger brother said without the slightest hint of shame as he came in through the opening to Nie Mingjue’s tent. “But it’s not like you’ve actually had any problems beating off the Wens for ages, and I hitched a ride on the post; I’ll go back first thing in the morning.”

“The post is for carrying mail, not idiots!”

“You say that, and yet – Wei-xiong! Hey! What’s gotten you in such a mood?”

Nie Mingjue opened his eyes and Baxia immediate began rattling a vicious warning. “Put my brother down this instant.”

“Sorry,” Wei Wuxian said, dropping his hands from Nie Huaisang’s robes with admirable speed. “But you wrote the letter – that means you were with Jiang Cheng, weren’t you? He’s all right?”

“He’s fine,” Nie Huaisang said, brightening. “The danger’s passed, and everyone’s healthy and loud. Incredibly loud. I’ve never heard such lungs.”

“Should you be mentioning that?” Nie Mingjue asked, eyes sliding towards Wei Wuxian. “If Sect Leader Jiang was planning on explaining himself…”

“Oh, no, he asked me to tell Wei-xiong about it,” Nie Huaisang assured him. “He said the conversation was the only thing he could think of that was likely to be more excruciating than what he’d just experienced, so I volunteered.”

“Excruciating? Jiang Cheng?” Wei Wuxian’s voice was getting a bit dangerous. Also, shrill. “Nie-xiong, don’t keep me in suspense like this! What’s wrong with Jiang Cheng?”

“Nothing! He’s fine now, like I said,” Nie Huaisang said. “And your shizi is doing great, too. Like I said: lungs.”

“My…shizi?”

“So it’s a boy, then?” Nie Mingjue said, and held out his hand.  

“I hate you personally, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang informed him, and put the promised scroll in his hand. “Why do I keep gambling against you? I always lose. At least I’ve smartened up and no longer bet saber training time…”

“Shizi,” Wei Wuxian repeatedly blankly, as if he’d never heard the term for martial nephew before. “Jiang Cheng – a shizi – but that means –”

Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang exchanged looks and went over to Wei Wuxian at once, Nie Mingjue catching him by the arms and guiding him down into a seated position while Nie Huaisang brought him a jar of fortified wine.

“We’ve been calling him A-Lian,” Nie Huaisang said helpfully. “Well, I have, anyway. Jiang Cheng’s just been calling him ‘brat’ the same way he did the entire pregnancy, but he smiles every time he does so I think it means he’s happy.”

Wei Wuxian was counting on his fingers, so Nie Mingjue reached out and grabbed his hand to make him stop.

“Yes,” he said, as kindly as he could manage. “It happened at that time. He got over it. Now you know, and now you have a shizi to help take care of. Dare we all hope that means that you are finally going to stop fucking around with demonic cultivation and get back to helping him the way you’re supposed to?”

He wasn’t expecting Wei Wuxian to break down into tears.

“Oh, no, I know that this is; it’s fine, I’ve got this,” Nie Huaisang said, and Nie Mingjue had never been happier to hear those (highly uncharacteristic) words. “Don’t worry, da-ge. This is the classic Yunmeng pre-confession bout of emotionality. I’ve seen it at least a dozen times with Jiang Cheng these past few months. Bring more wine and we’ll get him through it intact.”

Wei Wuxian’s sobbing just got worse.

Nie Mingjue decided to go get more wine. Possibly back-up assistance as well – someone Wei Wuxian liked who could help comfort him.

Wait.

Did Wei Wuxian like anyone?

“Sect Leader Nie,” Lan Wangji greeted politely – he was coming back from a patrol. “Is there any chance that you’ve seen Wei Ying?”

Nie Mingjue squinted at him. “You call each other by your given names?”

He hadn’t noticed that before. Though to judge from Lan Wangji’s taken aback expression, he might not have noticed it either.

“Never mind,” Nie Mingjue said. “You’ll do.”

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break, ch. 16

Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī & Wēn Qíng, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Wēn Qíng, Wēn Níng | Wēn Qiónglín, Granny Wēn, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī, Wēn Remnants, Wen Meilin (OC), Fourth Uncle, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Jiang Yanli, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin

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

Summary: The Jiang siblings visit the Burial Mounds. Feels are had.

Warning: Involves bugs as food. For Notes, see end.

AO3 link

Chapters:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

------------------

Lan Wangji is unsurprised, and somewhat relieved, when Wen Qing takes one look at Wei Ying upon their return to the Burial Mounds and tells him to go take a nap with A-Yuan.

His husband had already been swaying dangerously in the Yiling market when they had bought supplies, and had tried to insist Jiang Yanli ride in the cart while he walk, though he had quickly been overruled when Wen Ning, of all people, pointed out they could both ride comfortably if someone had a qiankun pouch for their purchases. Jiang Wanyin had pulled one from his sleeve, one that seemed oddly full, and Wen Ning helped place their purchases in it.

“Get in the damn cart, moron,” the Jiang sect leader said when Wei Ying hesitated.

“A-Xian, come ride with me,” Jiang Yanli coaxed, taking his arm and steering him to it herself.

Wei Ying was exhausted enough to fall asleep on her shoulder, despite the bumpy ride, on the way back, A-Yuan snuggled in his sister’s arms. He doesn’t look particularly refreshed when they have to wake him.

Despite his exhaustion, Wei Ying still tries to argue against a nap, eying his siblings, clearly considering their visit more important than his health. Lan Wangji finds his disregard for his own well-being concerning, but is well aware it isn’t unusual, just something they need to break him of. 

“I told them,” he says. “In town. I bet they have questions, and—”

“I can answer their questions, Wei Wuxian!” she cuts in. “I performed the surgery, after all. You’re delegating the task to me and going to take a nap before I bring out the needles—don’t think I won’t knock you out.”

The mention of her needles clearly cows him, but he still seems hesitant. 

“It’s our turn to take care of things,” Jiang Wanyin says, not looking at him. “You’ve done enough, Wei Wuxian.”

“More than enough,” Jiang Yanli murmurs, and reaches forward to pull him into a gentle hug. “Let us take care of our A-Xian, hm?”

Wei Ying seems frozen for a moment in the embrace, but relaxes into it. Lan Wangji can see him tremble as he hugs her back, and he knows, for the moment, they’ve won. It’s a small triumph, but at this point he’ll take it. 

“Okay, shijie,” he says finally. “Xianxian will take a nap with Yuanyuan.”

She lets him go and pats his cheek in a way that reminds Lan Wangji of his mother when he was very young. 

A-Yuan insists on giving his guma a hug before he lets Wei Ying take his hand and lead him toward the cave. 

“Go with him,” Wen Qing insists, to his surprise. 

It must show somehow, because she sighs. 

“I told you when you came: you take care of him. That’s your job. I’ll take care of this—I wrote Jiang-guniang, after all.”

Lan Wangji nods, privately relieved his presence isn’t required for this conversation. He bows to each of them before leaving, including Wen Qing as a thank you even though it makes her huff in embarrassment. 

As he takes longer strides to catch up with Wei Ying, he can hear Jiang Yanli speak to Wen Qing in a sweet voice that is likely terrifying up close in how it utterly fails to hide her ferocious protectiveness of her beloved adoptive brother—he mentally wishes Wen Qing luck. 

He picks up A-Yuan and gets a startled glance from Wei Ying, who is not quite to the point of barely standing, but close enough that Lan Wangji wraps his free arm around him to steady him as they make their way to the cave. 

A-Yuan babbles sleepily about having a new aunt and uncle, having been largely unaffected by the tension in town, and before long they’re both tucked in. Wei Ying doesn’t bother removing his boots, so Lan Wangji does it for him. 

Before he can rise, Wei Ying reaches out for him, his eyes half-lidded as he’s already being pulled toward sleep, in what Lan Wangji recognizes as a plea for him to stay, to sit on the bed and let him be close as he sleeps. After the stress of the afternoon on his husband, he is happy to oblige, happy Wei Ying would ask, even silently, for his support. 

“I will stay,” he tells him, settling beside him on the bed, letting Wei Ying tuck close and use his thigh as a pillow. 

Not to be left out, A-Yuan clambers over them and settles curled between them against Wei Ying’s stomach, his face pressed into the front of his robe as he falls asleep. Lan Wangji draws the blanket up over both of them.

He has used the table near the bed both as a desk and to play the guqin, so it is no trouble to carefully stack the papers next to the bed and slide the inkstone back so he can pull out Wangji.

Wei Ying lets out a soft sigh, the tension leaving his body, as he starts ‘WuJi.’ The song has been a comfort to his husband, he knows, when he himself failed to be, and he hopes to soon work on a new song, something that will capture the joy he finds in their marriage. The circumstances in which they and the people Wei Ying rescued live are less than ideal, and he wishes he could take him from this place of darkness and the memories of the horror he still cannot speak of, but they are together, and that is much preferable to being alone in the Cloud Recesses. 

Before long, Wei Ying is asleep, and he segues into songs of cleansing and healing. Without a golden core, without Wen Qing’s needles, the latter has little impact—but little isn’t none, and he is still recovering. Every little bit helps, and after the stress of the day, he helps the only way he can, aside from serving as Wei Ying’s pillow. 

He loses himself in the music, coming close to a meditative state as he plays. Time passes like sand through fingers before he hears hesitant steps enter the cave. 

Lan Wangji pauses in his playing, recognizing two sets of footsteps, one the shuffling gait of Wen Ning, and the other softer. He is unsurprised when Jiang Yanli is the second set. 

He is also unsurprised to see her face wet with tears. 

Wen Ning offers her a short bow, then hefts the bathtub from their alcove as he does daily, kindly bringing fresh water and herbs for Wei Ying to use at night. He nods to him in thanks. 

Jiang Yanli returns Wen Ning’s bow, and his esteem of her rises—many failed to give that respect to him in life, and more would likely refuse to now that he is a corpse, spiritual conscious or not. But Wei Ying’s sister recognizes him as he is: family. 

Though the reverberation of the strings has ceased, the motion of stilling them is a comfort to Lan Wangji as he waits for her to speak. She watches her brother sleep for a while. 

“Wen-guniang… She said he’s in pain,” she finally says. 

Lan Wangji nods to confirm. 

“That he’s been in pain since— since the war, and we didn’t…”

More tears spill down her cheeks, and he knows if Wei Ying were awake he would spring to comfort her. 

“He hid it,” he tells her softly. “You could not have known.”

She makes a sound that is almost pained. 

“I raised him. I knew something was wrong, and I didn’t—“

Jiang Yanli presses her fist against her mouth. 

“I led him to believe I disdained him and wished for him to be punished,” Lan Wangji says.

His failure to communicate had led to the strain of their relationship, to the point where Wei Ying had questioned whether he was still his zhiji, and he will forever regret letting him walk away into the darkness and rain even after that. He empathizes with her completely.

She is silent for a while before she nods.

“Wen-guniang has an idea,” she says. “She said Zewu-Jun pointed out that there is a life debt among our generation. The six of us, A-Xuan, and Nie Huaisang. An auspicious eight. Swearing brotherhood… It could protect A-Xian, and the people here.”

Xiongzhang had hinted at it, and Lan Wangji is glad Wen Qing is furthering the possibility.

“It would tie together the four sects, and the remnants of the Dafan Wen,” he adds, thinking aloud. 

“A-Cheng pointed out that the lotus blossom has eight petals,” she says, smiling wistfully. “He and A-Xian used to talk about being the Twin Prides of Yunmeng. It seems almost like a sign.”

Lan Wangji is struck silent at the idea; the eight auspicious signs are almost sacred, and the imagery would be iconic. The imagery was prevalent at temples—the eternal wheel of life, the endless knot, the conch, the parasol, the lotus… 

The noble eightfold path, an expansion of the threefold way.

Almost implying an expansion of the Venerated Triad, and associating Wei Ying with the noble path regardless of his cultivation.

“Apt,” he says when he finally finds his voice.

“I’ll talk to A-Xuan,” she says, her voice distant. “I know he and A-Xian didn’t get off on the right foot, but he knows I love my didi.”

“Xiongzhang is bringing Chifeng-Zun and Nie Huaisang to see the settlement after your wedding,” Lan Wangji tells her. “I am certain Wen Qing will broach the topic of a sworn brotherhood with them then.”

Jiang Yanli sways slightly, and he panics for a moment; if he needs to move to catch her, it will jostle and wake Wei Ying, and he needs the rest. But she steadies herself, and he is able to gesture to a chair instead, and she takes a seat.

“Hanguang-Jun, since you are my brother’s husband, I wondered if I might call you A-Zhan.”

The request to use his birth name surprises him—xiongzhang had only requested to call Wei Ying by his courtesy name—but she seems earnest about wanting to welcome him to the family. 

“Of course. May I call you… A-Li?”

A smile blossoms across her face, and she nods, looking pleased. 

Then Wei Ying murmurs in his sleep and their attention snaps to him. Lan Wangji strokes his hair gently, letting his fingers brush his scalp in a way he knows soothes him. He settles almost instantly, but he doesn’t stop his ministrations. 

Jiang Yanli, when he next looks up, is watching with a bittersweet look on her face. 

“I used to do that for him,” she says softly, “when he had nightmares. Until he started hiding them.”

Lan Wangji doesn’t know what to say, so only nods. He understands her sense of helplessness, knowing Wei Ying is adept at hiding his pain, would still be hiding it if not for having pulled his wrist away a second too late. 

“I wish he was coming to my wedding,” she confesses, her voice breaking. “He belongs there. But they’d try to kill him.”

He cannot disagree with either statement. Wei Ying should be there, as one of her last remaining family members, even if he did not share her blood, but it would never be permitted. Not now. Not until the plan xiongzhang implied to Wen Qing is put into motion.

But by then she will be married, the wedding over, and Wei Ying will not have been permitted to attend.

“You have done what you can to include him,” he tells her, hoping to soothe her. “He did not expect this much.”

It seems to have the opposite effect, tears lining her cheeks again.

“He never expects anything of us,” she whispers. “Mother made him feel undeserving, like he should feel grateful for any scrap. I try not to hate her for it, but…”

Lan Wangji can understand how she feels, has seen the marks from Zidian on Wei Ying, still healing when he gave his core to his brother, something he has probably hidden from his sister even through everything. And he knows Wei Ying feels he deserves those marks, believing the fall of Lotus Pier to be of his doing. The emotional damage goes far deeper. 

“We can only assure him he deserves more,” he says after a moment. “And be sure to give it to him.”

He has been trying to do so, but it never feels like enough to make up for abandoning him at Qiongqi Path, for failing to join him on the righteous path, even if it is the single-plank one, for making his zhiji believe he reviled him. He understands how Jiang Yanli feels—though perhaps she feels it more deeply, or at least differently, as the person who basically raised him. 

Footsteps approach from the cave entrance, Wen Ning with the tub filled with fresh water, something he has insisted upon doing since it was purchased. At some point during each day, he cleans and fills it, even preparing a fresh sachet of herbs to help Wei Ying recover. Truthfully, even with Lan Wangji’s arm strength he doubts he could lift it as easily as the fierce corpse is able, and he is grateful for his thoughtfulness. 

“Than—thank you for waiting, Jiang-guniang,” he says after setting it down. “Popo is waiting to help us in the k-kitchen with preparing dinner.”

Jiang Yanli favors him with a smile. 

“Thank you, Wen-gongzi.”

“Ah, you c-can just call me Wen Ning,” he says, looking flustered as he often does when people offer respect to him. 

“Then you must call me Jiang Yanli.”

Wen Ning looks like he might protest, but she turns to Lan Wangji before he can, dipping into a proper and respectful bow. 

“A-Zhan, thank you for taking care of A-Xian. It is…”

Her voice cracks, emotions nearly overcoming her again. It takes her a moment to recover. 

“It is a relief to know someone else is here for him when I cannot be. I entrust him to your care.”

The formality, Lan Wangji realizes, is her approval of their union. Warmth spreads through him at her acceptance. 

“However,” she says, a slight smile on her face that is also somehow fierce. “I think you will agree with me that A-Xian deserves a real wedding, at Lotus Pier, as soon as it is possible.”

The image of Wei Ying sitting on a bed in Nightless City in his red underrobes, the joy of his waking mixing with the wish they were wedding robes… that Jiang Yanli wants to ensure they receive that, that their union can be celebrated, if belatedly, in the way Wei Ying deserves to be honored. 

“Yes,” he says softly. “I agree.”

She nods, clearly pleased.

“It will happen, A-Zhan; I’ll make sure of it.”

Lan Wangji has absolutely no doubt she will. 

She leaves with Wen Ning, and he remembers her intention to cool the soup Wei Ying so loves for the settlement. It will be a welcome meal for them all.

Though he could resume playing, Lan Wangji opts to sink into a meditative state instead, waiting. He doesn’t need to wait long, as footsteps that are almost stomps approach and enter the cave.

He is ready to stare at Jiang Wanyin disapprovingly, but the steps hesitate, becoming uncertain, on the way to the alcove. 

“He’s still resting,” Lan Wangji says before he can speak. 

Jiang Wanyin’s face does something strange, going soft for a moment as he gazes at his brother and nephew, the top of A-Yuan’s head just visible poking out from beneath the blanket. Then his expression shutters.

“He needs the rest, then?” he asks.

“Mn. He is recovering. He also was giving most of his food to A-Yuan before I arrived. He is finally eating properly.”

The muscles in the Jiang sect leader’s jaw clench, working as though he’s stopping himself from saying something—or, more likely, yelling.

“He always gives too much,” Jiang Wanyin says finally. 

Lan Wangji nods; he agrees with that assessment. 

“I want to bring him back to Lotus Pier.”

The announcement is unexpected, and he reconsiders his assessment of the man. 

“He will not leave these people.”

“I know that. The Wens too, of course.”

“They do not wish to be known as Wens,” Lan Wangji tells him, and watches Wei Ying sleep for a moment to be certain he won’t hear before continuing. “I believe they hope to take on Wei as a family name. They have not broached the subject with Wei Ying yet.”

Jiang Wanyin sits heavily in the chair his sister vacated, sighing. 

“He’ll do that thing. Where he belittles himself,” he says, his voice rough. “It’s like he believes all the awful things a-niang said about him.”

Because he does believe them, Lan Wangji is well aware. His anger at a dead woman is unbecoming, but it will likely never fade. She trained Wei Ying to see himself as worthless, as a charity case, when he was one of the best cultivators of their generation. Even without his core, he was still inventing tools to help the cultivation world that slanders and wishes him dead. 

“Not that I’m much better. He’s my brother and I fucking abandoned him,” Jiang Wanyin mutters. “And I accused him of abandoning me, on top of it. When—when he left a big piece of himself with me to protect me.”

It occurs to Lan Wangji that perhaps both Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli suffered their own childhood traumas associated with bad parenting, that this is perhaps just a variation of that which has led Wei Ying down his path of self-destruction through giving too much, through not valuing himself. His own troubled upbringing led him to value his clan and the Lan rules over his zhiji, to believe his identity must be tied up in being a perceived paragon of Lan virtue above all else. Theirs led to Wei Ying’s isolation as well. 

“You had no way of knowing,” he says. “Now that you know, you are trying to help him.”

What they do now does not absolve them of their wrongs, but it is a start. 

Jiang Wanyin’s jaw clenches again, then releases when he sighs. 

“I can’t undo the shitty stuff I said to him. You’ll come to Lotus Pier with him, right?”

“Of course,” Lan Wangji says, surprised that’s in question. “He’s my husband.”

He receives a nod in response.

“He’ll need bigger quarters, then, for you and A-Yuan. I could give him a-niang’s old quarters, but I don’t know if he’d want to live where she did. He deserves them as my head disciple, so maybe if I remodel them…”

Jiang Wanyin seems to be thinking out loud. 

“Wei Ying is still your head disciple?” he asks, having not realized. 

“Yeah,” Jiang Wanyin says, then grimaces. “I never took him off the register. Kicking him out was for show, because he insisted. He never stopped being head disciple, but he probably doesn’t realize that.”

He likely doesn’t, knowing Wei Ying. Wei Ying, who still believes himself responsible for the fall of Lotus Pier, for the deaths that were a part of it. Even being head disciple, there will be much he cannot do, lacking a golden core. 

“I can help with his duties,” Lan Wangji offers impulsively. 

Jiang Wanyin blinks at him, startled, then smiles in a way that makes him look painfully young.

“Appreciated. He’ll… Well, he’ll need help with some of it. At least until Wen Qing figures out a way to help him.”

Lan Wangji realizes the Jiang sect leader is still hoping there’s a solution, that Wei Ying will again achieve the impossible. 

“She’s going to make a list of things she’ll need to get started,” Jiang Wanyin continues. “And I’ll work to get ahold of them.”

A-Yuan stirs before Lan Wangji can reply. 

“Loud,” he murmurs. “A-Die sleeping, shhhh.”

He wriggles his way out from under the blanket, somehow managing not to disturb Wei Ying as he does, then crawls off the bed.

“Jiang-shushu loud.” 

His voice is pitched in an almost theatrical whisper, and Jiang Wanyin snorts in amusement. 

“Okay,” he whispers back, also theatrical. “Let’s leave your a-die to sleep and go find guma, then.”

A-Yuan glances back at Wei Ying, then at Lan Wangji, who nods encouragingly. Then he turns back to Jiang Wanyin and holds his arms up expectantly. 

Jiang Wanyin stands, pulling A-Yuan into his arms as he does. 

“I’ll watch the kid. It looks like everyone else is busy right now.”

Lan Wangji simply nods in response. A-Yuan chatters softly to his uncle as they make their way out of the cave, leaving him alone with Wei Ying.

Jiang Wanyin’s absence is a relief. He finds it difficult still not to resent him for his choice to abandon Wei Ying, for the fact that Wei Ying’s core now rests within him, even for his desperate hope that his brother will somehow heal enough to form a new one. In far too many ways, it’s not enough, just as anything Lan Wangji does now cannot make up for his own failures.

He reminds him of Wei Ying’s mortality, as unfair as that may be.

Resentment will help nothing, may even be exacerbated now by the Burial Mounds, so Lan Wangji works to focus instead on the sensation of Wei Ying’s hair against his fingers, the weight of his head on his thigh, his soft breaths, and he is eventually able to fall into a sort of meditation until Wen Qing comes to fetch them.

“Jiang-zongzhu set up the tablets for the adoption rites, so we can start with those,” she tells Wei Ying once he’s awake.

Wei Ying stares at her blearily for a moment.

“Adopting A-Yuan,” Lan Wangji prompts gently. 

Wen Qing gives him a disapproving look. 

“He’s very excited, and your siblings can serve as witnesses.”

“Right. Sorry. Been a long day,” Wei Ying murmurs, then glances at Lan Wangji. “It’s still today, right?”

Lan Wangji brushes a lock of hair back from his face. 

“Mm. You slept only a few hours.”

Wei Ying melts into his touch, and he leans forward to brush his lips against his forehead. Wen Qing clears her throat and drops a bundle on the bed.

“Your sister also made Jiang-zongzhu go back into town and buy nice clothing for you and A-Yuan for the adoption rites.”

She indicates the bundle.

“So hurry up and get changed. She cooked up a feast, and everyone’s hungry. I think she’s determined to give you a proper wedding banquet.”

Wen Qing, ever brusque, turns on her heel and leaves before either of them can respond.

Wei Ying opens the bundle on the bed, blinking at the high quality clothing. The fabric, at a glance, looks black, but has threadwork in a deep blue and purple. It sends a message from Jiang Wanyin: Wei Ying is of the Jiang sect still. A red underrobe, new zhong yi, a red silk hair ribbon embroidered with little pink lotuses, and even new boots complete the package.

“Aiya, Jiang Cheng… How can I wear these?”

“You were not removed from the sect registry. He insists you are still his head disciple. 

“Oh,” Wei Ying breathes, taking a heavy seat on the bed, clearly overwhelmed. 

Lan Wangji wonders if he should tell Wei Ying the rest—that Jiang Wanyin intends to bring everyone at Burial Mounds to Lotus Pier permanently when it is feasible. But he will leave that to the Jiang sect leader. 

Instead he opens his qiankun pouch and pulls out the light blue robes he arrived wearing, which he hasn’t worn in days. If dinner is in part for them, he should dress appropriately, as well.

Changing takes little time, though Lan Wangji has Wei Ying sit for his hair to be combed and put back in its crown, as it came loose as he slept. 

The entire settlement is waiting for them in the hall when they enter, and though only Wen Qing has seen an official adoption rite, she demurs from describing it. 

“It was Wen Zhuliu’s, so it feels like bad luck to copy it,” she says when pressed. 

None of them argue. 

“We should have seen an adoption rite,” Jiang Wanyin mutters. 

Wei Ying seems not to have heard, focused on A-Yuan. He takes the child’s hand and leads him to the space where someone has set up an altar with his parents’ tablets, complete with sticks of incense and food offerings: three cups holding tea, water, and Jifu’s fruit wine, plates with small stacks of oranges and sweets. A fire burns in a small brazier in front of the altar, a stack of joss paper set nearby. 

For a moment, Wei Ying is completely silent, looking at the altar as though struck. 

Jiang Yanli breaks the silence. 

“You’ve never been able to venerate them,” she murmurs.

Lan Wangji understands suddenly: there was no place set for Wei Ying’s parents’ tablets at Lotus Pier, and so his husband has never been able to properly pay them respects—cruel, given their bodies were never found to begin with. 

“Thank you, shijie.”

His voice is heavy with emotion, and he kneels and gestures to A-Yuan to do the same. 

Wei Ying keeps it simple, first apologizing for being unable to do his filial duty for them, kowtowing before them. A-Yuan copies him dutifully, and this receives smiles from the others. 

“A-Die, a-niang, I want to introduce my son to you, Wei Yuan. He may not share my blood, but he is your sunzi. I ask you to help me protect and guide him, if you are able. This one will do a better job honoring you in the future.”

He murmurs something to A-Yuan, who bows as best he can.

“Wei Yuan greets yeye and nainai. A-Yuan will burn joss and incense and clean your altar. A-Yuan promises to be filial.”

They light the incense using the brazier, then burn joss together, letting the paper fall into the flame piece by piece.

Lan Wangji longs to join them, to thank Wei Ying’s parents for bringing him into the world, and Wei Ying turns to him as though hearing those thoughts. When his husband gestures, he steps forward to take his place kneeling beside him. 

“A-Die, a-niang, I also want to introduce you to my husband,” Wei Ying says, blushing as though they’ve not been wed over a week. “We completed our bows, but not before your tablets.”

They bow together, three times again.

“Fuqin, muqin, thank you for Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says, bowing one last time alone. “I promise to honor him, and to protect him and Wei Yuan.”

They burn the remaining joss together, as a family, before standing. 

Jiang Yanli rushes forward to hug Wei Ying, who pulls Lan Wangji and A-Yuan into it. There’s a warmth to it that he isn’t used to, his own family reserved, and it surprises him as much as xiongzhang’s hug did. 

“Ah, I have a new didi and an adorable zizhi!” she says happily, then pulls at their arms as she releases them from the embrace. “We prepared a nice meal to celebrate, come!”

The tables are covered in dishes, the serving bowls and platters clearly heated by talismans to keep the food at an ideal temperature. 

“The guests of honor fill their plates first,” popo says insistently, clicking her tongue when Wei Ying gestures for her to go ahead. “A-Xian is still too thin!”

Wei Ying startles at the affectionate address and she smiles and pats his arm. 

Lan Wangji steps forward first, recognizing the futility of refusing popo’s demand. There is a bowl with chili sauce on the table, likely Wei Ying’s favorite kind. The dishes range from the familiar—the lotus root and pork rib soup he was introduced to earlier in a huge tureen, braised pork belly with mushrooms and bok choy, tea eggs, fried radish cakes, baozi, cucumber salad, sautéed dock root and millet with Sichuan peppercorns that would make his mouth numb—to the unfamiliar. He recognizes noodles cooked with what looks like water spinach and shaved carrot, mixed with, upon closer look, crisp-fried silkworm pupae. 

He doesn’t realize Wei Ying is beside him until he makes an intrigued noise. 

“Where did we get those? Shijie, did you bring them?”

“A-Ning found a copse of mulberry a few nights ago,” Wen Qing tells them. “He brought the silkworm cocoons to the aunties to unwind so we can sell the silk. He harvested the berries, too.”

“We—we cooked them with d-dessert,” Wen Ning adds. 

Though he is aware that silkworm pupae are commonly sold at market when silk is harvested, Lan Wangji has never had occasion to try them. Despite the fact that silk is harvested by the GusuLan weavers and used in robes for the clan, the production is kept out of the Cloud Recesses because the cocoons are boiled to extract the intact silk, killing the pupae in the process, and killing any creature, even an insect, is prohibited within the bounds of the Cloud Recesses. Presumably the pupae are sold in Caiyi, but meat is not a staple in his home. 

But he was raised not to be a picky eater, and insects are a viable source of protein, something sorely needed by the people living here. Wei Ying seems content to serve himself and A-Yuan a large helping, so Lan Wangji does the same, placing a wide variety of dishes on his own plate to sample, but avoiding the chili sauce for the sake of his palate. 

“I put in fewer peppercorns than I usually do,” Jiang Yanli murmurs to him. “I know you like milder dishes.”

He nods his thanks, and lets her press a bowl of soup into his free hand. 

She follows him with two more to place before Wei Ying and A-Yuan, then pinches her brother’s cheek as though he’s a child. 

“Eat the whole plate, Xianxian, and then you’ll get dessert.”

He is quietly pleased when Wei Ying plays along with a bright smile. 

“But what if Xianxian wants more?”

She leans forward and kisses his brow like a mother might. 

“Xianxian can have as much as he wants. Popo and Wen Ning helped me cook plenty. And dessert is mulberry millet pudding sweetened with honey, so I know you’ll like it.”

Then she turns to A-Yuan and favors him with the same treatment. 

“You too. Eat plenty so you can grow big and strong.”

“A-Die plants me with the radishes so I will!” A-Yuan says proudly, and those within earshot laugh. 

Jiang Yanli’s laughter is not unlike the gentle ringing of the bells the Jiang sect wears at their belts. She turns to him, patting his shoulder affectionately. 

“A-Zhan as well. Your strength is important. More than three bowls if you want.”

The reference to the rules of the Cloud Recesses is nostalgic, but not in a painful way. It is more a reminder that he will now uphold the rules as he sees fit, now that his home is Wei Ying. 

They are surrounded by familiar chatter, the smell of food of a more quality fare than any at the Burial Mounds have had in some time, and the warmth of family. 

He hopes this can be the sort of happiness that awaits them for some time.

----------------

In my culture, generally we don’t eat insects/bugs and often find it intrinsically disgusting. I’ve never eaten insects/bugs. However, my biases are not applicable to the culture I am writing into. My understanding from friends is that there are many insects and arachnids commonly eaten in China. A close friend of mine has eaten ant eggs, grasshoppers, and other insects. Another has mentioned tacos that involve insects as a common ingredient in Mexico. In China, markets often have fried scorpions on a stick, grasshoppers, and many other insects as street food for purchase.

Given life on the Burial Mounds involves a lot of scraping by, I’d imagine some of their meals involve insects, which culturally wouldn’t be unusual. Likely if there were insects in the Burial Mounds, eating them helped Wei Wuxian survive them. They’d be an important source of protein.

While silkworm pupae are often fried in peanut oil and eaten on skewers or like nuts, from my research, my friend believed the dish I concocted in here was believable. (I also researched what the taste and texture is, but decided not to include it.) She also said the dessert of mulberry millet pudding is something eaten in southern China, which I didn’t know—I just knew it sounded like it’d be delicious.

In terms of the millet, meta discussions of MDZS have involved the fact that millet was likely more common (and less expensive) than rice at rough time of the setting, so I included that.

My friend was kind enough to read for cultural sensitivity regarding the auspicious eight, adoption rites, and ancestor veneration, so I hope they read well. This is a chapter I was particularly worried about because of the cultural aspects, and I hope it reads well.

[angstymdzsthoughts]

wangxian loveless au where during that one drunken night wwx and lwj slept together and wwx didnt come out of the situation unscathed. he began having nauseous bouts and experiencing fatigue and after a couple months his stomach grew bigger. he's absolutely terrified bc not only are he and lan zhan just 16 and 17, he would absolutely bring shame to yunmeng jiang if people knew their lead disciple got pregnant out of wedlock like some common whore.

if there is anything more strange than ruckus in the cloud recesses, it is wei wuxian being silent and obedient. it has been a couple months since something just changed in wei wuxian like a switch being flipped and he just.. stopped being a troublemaker. he stopped talking back to the lan teachers, stopped sneaking out at night, stopped nipping at lan wangji's heels and giving jiang cheng headaches. instead he gives jc a different kind of headache with how skittish and mousy he acts. wwx still does well in his studies and sword practice, but he's a lot less reckless, a lot less free, a lot less wei wuxian, and jiang cheng can already feel his a-jie and father's disappointment weighing on his shoulders.

wwx uses talismans after talismans to conceal his growing bulge and with the thick winter robes, no one suspected a thing. he just has to be a lot more careful and avoid the healers at all costs, lest they find out about his secret. instead of going out and hunting pheasants, he spends his free time reading huaisang's romantic novels and keeps a sketch book filled with his everyday paintings. lan qiren is equal parts content, intrigued, and horrified. if his teachers couldn't manage to keep changse still, what had he done so terribly wrong to make the boy change so abruptly?

lan wangji got his peaceful silence back. wei wuxian had been mildly entertaining for a while, but now that he's gotten bored of getting rebuffed, he had stopped and lan wangji didn't miss it too much. lan xichen is a little disappointed that wei wuxian didnt manage to crack down wangji's walls, but it would be unfair to expect the boy to do so for him.

before they knew it, the snow is thick in the cloud recesses and the disciples were let to retire earlier in the evening. their study would soon end when the frost melts. wwx slipped out of his room when he felt the contractions coming. the moon hung high, its light illuminating the serene white and lan xichen went on his night patrol shift as usual. he was walking on one of the watch towers when his tranquil was broken by a muffled shriek of pain.

wei ying stumbled into an empty room, doubling in pain and hurriedly put on silencing talismans. the pain and pressure seemed to last forever and when its over, a shrill cry brought much anticipated relief.

wei wuxian picked the baby- his baby- off the floor, shielded only by his hastily discarded outer robe from the cold wooden floor. the baby is laid on his chest, blood and slime staining his white robes but wei wuxian doesn't see anything past the scrunched little face and he couldn't believe he had ever thought of getting rid of this being in his arms. he only got a short tender moment before the door slammed open and to his horror, zewu-jun staring at him with mirrored terror on his face.

lan xichen followed the sounds and found himself in front of an empty classroom. the door pulsed with spiritual energy and he could tell the silencing talisman put on was only half installed. he raised his hand to knock and- is that a baby's cry? his hand moved itself and slammed the door open. "wei gongzi?!" wei wuxian laid on the floor, the bottom of his robes open and in his hold is a tiny wailing baby still connected to him through the umbilical cord.

"ze-zewu-jun, i-" wei wuxian clutched the baby tighter to his chest, as if afraid lan xichen is going to take him away. "please let me help you," the older interrupted, shuffling in to begin helping wei wuxian. he took out spare cloths from his qiankun pouch and wrapped them around the boy and his baby. wei wuxian couldn't look at lan xichen. no wonder he has been laying low, if he's keeping such a secret.

poor boy, did someone force him? is that why he had to hide? "wei gongzi, are you-" his hand accidentally brushed over the meridian on the child's head and felt a familiar signature. the baby is a lan. wei wuxian's eyes goes wider if that was possible. lan xichen tugged slightly to reveal the baby's face. his tiny golden eyes are open and all xichen could see was wangji's childhood face. wangji's son, oh god wei wuxian gave birth to wangji's son.

but how did wangji ever- it can't be- wangji drunkenly bedded wei wuxian and now he has a son! lan xichen trembled and stood. "zewu-jun?" the first jade just ran, but not before slapping on a silencing and locking talisman on the room. "zewu-jun, i can explain!"

.

class was cancelled the next day. not with lan qiren so close to a qi deviation with the news from xichen that wangji has a son, just born last night and by a guest disciple, no less! he sent wei wuxian along with his baby into seclusion, telling jiang cheng that his shixiong sneaked out again and will be put into solitary for a few days. immediate invitation was sent to jiang fengmian and yu ziyuan, insisting that it is urgent that both of them come.

lan wangji stands in front of the room wei wuxian is detained in. he had been content with uncle and brother as family. it never crossed his mind that he would get married or have a child- much less with wei wuxian. but the boy is in this room right now, with a child that is his. his son. he should come in- should at least see the child. he should take responsibility, even if he didn't mean to. he shouldn't push his son onto someone else, he shouldn't-

"lan zhan? is that you?" wei wuxian's voice sounded nervous. he probably saw lan wangji's shadow in front of his door. "i- can i come in?" lan wangji replied hesitantly. "please do," he answered.

lan wangji opened the door and stood face to face with wei wuxian, whose usual mischievous expression is replaced entirely with one full of worry and guilt. "lan z-, lan wangji, i'm sorry," he started.

the second jade didn't know what to answer and they stood in silence. "i'm here to see the baby," he began, cursing himself for sounding colder than he intended. "of course.." wei wuxian led him inside, to his bed where the sleeping baby is swathed in thick white blankets provided by zewu-jun.

wangji does see himself in the baby, and for a split second he hated it more than anything. "what is his name?"

wei wuxian doesn't answer. "wei- wei ying?" he was instead staring at the baby. "oh- i'm sorry. what did you say?"

"his name?"

"baobao doesn't have a name yet. i don't know.."

-------

yu ziyuan's face is red with anger. behind her jiang fengmian is filled with worry. of course that no good son of a servant will churn yet another trouble that will bring smear to the yunmeng jiang name all because jiang fengmian has always been too useless and too soft to discipline him properly. lan qiren and lan xichen was already waiting for them.

"sect leader lan, zewu-jun," she greeted them.

"madam yu, sect leader jiang," lan xichen bowed back. "please come inside. we have.. important matter to discuss,"

she notices the silence talisman plastered wall to wall in the meeting room and she could only wonder what had happened for the lans to need such discretion. the tension between them was so thick it could be cut with a knife. "what has that brat done now? i swear if he continues to be unruly i will whip him with zidian until he repents," yu ziyuan started.

lan qiren chokes on his tea a little bit. "that would be unnecessary, madam yu," xichen winced, " i believe it would be highly inappropriate to subject him to corporal punishments considering his.. delicate condition right now,"

"delicate..? is a-xian sick? is that why you called us here? then- can we see him now?" of course jiang fengmian would worry about that useless boy first before he ever thinks about her son. "shut it, jiang fengmian!" yu ziyuan barked. "i bet you he just fell from the mountain and broke his bones while sneaking out to do god knows what! this is the boy you keep spoiling! that good for nothing son of a servant!"

lan qiren and lan xichen both shriveled in their seats at her tone. what happened to wei wuxian was much, much worse. "madam yu," lan xichen tried. "wei wuxian.. gave birth to a son two nights ago,"

yu ziyuan's face flashed an angry shade of red, then white, and then green before she shred the table in front of her into splinters. "he.. gave birth?"

lan xichen solemnly nodded.

the chuckle that left her mouth terrified everyone in that room. lan qiren tried his best to not vomit blood. "don't tell me, that boy now has a kid.. like some whore?"

lan qiren looked at jiang fengmian. the man's face was paper white and tongue-tied. he pitied him, having to bear the brunt of yu ziyuan's wrath on top having to process this information.

"does he even know who the father is? or did he sleep with everyone in gusu?"

"third madam!"

lan xichen looked like he is going to start crying, so lan qiren chimed in.

"the father is wangji,"

.

the negotiation was dreadful. jiang fengmian tried to get wei wuxian and his baby to go back to lotus pier. yu ziyuan refused to bring that disgrace back to lotus pier. lan qiren insisted that wei wuxian and lan wangji must marry, now that their child is the third heir to gusu lan. news will be let out that the lead disciple of yunmeng jiang and the second young master of lan had been engaged for a while and will soon marry. their altercations during the length of the study had just been because they had an ongoing squabble. the child will be announced one year after his actual birth.

lan wangji chose the name lan yuan for his son, which his uncle and brother approved. wei wuxian's heart fell that they never asked for his opinion on the name.

wei wuxian had to go back to yunmeng jiang when the disciples disperse after their year's study. he couldn't bring baobao to lotus pier without alerting everyone and wei wuxian never cried harder than when he had to part with his baby for the first time. even jiang cheng couldn't console him. he endured the torture for two months. two torturous months without his baby where madam yu only spoke in a cold tone and his shijie's soup no longer comforted him. the last two months yunmeng jiang would ever be his home.

the expensive red robes hang heavy on him. everyone congratulated him on his marriage but all wei wuxian felt is cold. he couldn't look at lan wangji without knowing that he forced the second jade to a marriage he didn't want. lan wangji couldn't look at wei wuxian without wondering what if it had been someone else, someone he had consented to marry. they live in the jingshi, but sleep in different bedrooms. their interactions are polite at best. wei wuxian spends his time cultivating and inventing talismans while raising his son, and lan wangji spends his time cultivating and attending to sect duties.

lan yuan grows to be a smart and strong disciple who excels among his peers. no wonder, people say, his parents are two of the most powerful cultivators of their generation. lan xichen replies to comments of 'lan yuan looks so grown up already' with 'my nephew is tall for his age'. he will no doubt become a fine sect leader one day, people say.

lan wangji and wei wuxian are married, everyone knows that, but they never act like they are. they act like parents to their son, but never like spouses to each other. gusu lan's no gossipping rule never stopped people from talking. lan yuan knows that he is older than his classmates. lan yuan knows why he barely ever see his parents together. he knows they love him, of course, but they don't love each other.

poor lan yuan, people say, trapped in his parents' loveless marriage.

lan yuan knows that he is trapped between a father whose anger kept simmering at having to marry someone he didn't want and a mother who felt like his marriage was a mistake.

[afternoonteawithme]

Lan Wangji’s Favorite Shade of Black

Fandom: MZDS / Pairing: WangXian / Rating: T / WC: 5206

(read it on AO3)

Music floated in the air as twilight fell across Cloud Recesses, escaping from the homes scattered across the mountain through doors left wide and open to the summer evening. Deep zither notes blended with lilting flute melodies, the soft traces of music mingling with the scent of gardenia as a gentle breeze rustled along the bushes lining the winding white stone paths.

The soft wind flowed onwards, the music it carried almost silent by the time it swirled into the courtyard of a small building set a little apart from the rest. Warm light poured out from inside, flashing against deep purple as it landed on the gentian dancing in the breeze.  

Inside, a man dressed all in white sat straight-backed at a low desk. Here the scent of flowers gave way to the sandalwood incense burning in the corner, and the only sounds were the faint whisper of his brush smoothly gliding across paper and the murmuring of the two boys sitting together on the other side of the room.

Very deliberately Lan Wangji ignored the boys, and their conversation.

He’d caught just enough to know they were discussing whether they should ask him about something Lan Qiren had refused to explain, but otherwise he left them to themselves. His reasoning for allowing Sizhui to invite Lan Jingyi into their home - during the time usually allocated for the members of the Gusu Lan Sect to be alone with only their closest family - was so that Sizhui would grow up knowing what it was to enjoy spending time with his friends, so he felt censuring the boys or monitoring them too closely would be counter-productive.

Those precious days he and his brother had spent with their mother, before her death, had been nothing but memories for most of his adolescence. When he had spent his evenings with the few members of his family that still lived and were not in seclusion his time had been occupied with following in his brother’s footsteps, trying to in some way ease the burdens Lan Xichen carried as the heir to the Gusu Lan Sect.

The other disciples, whether of his own sect or visiting Cloud Recesses to study under his uncle, had been of no interest to him. He’d spent his entire childhood studying, training, rigidly learning the rules of his sect in the belief that everything in life would fall neatly into place so long as he followed those rules, without fail.

He’d been wrong. That had been a bloody, pain filled lesson to learn, one that had given him scars he would carry forever.

Lan Wangji didn’t want that for A-Yuan.

Sizhui, at twelve, was changing quickly from the boy he’d been into a young man Lan Wangji could only be proud of. He was clever, bright, gentle, and strong, and since his studies and cultivation progress were fast enough to satisfy the requirements of even the strictest of Lan elders Lan Wangji was largely allowed to raise him as he pleased. So while he’d treasured the time he spent alone with Sizhui, he’d started to encourage him to invite his closest friend as well.

Lan Jingyi’s parents gratefully gave up their own solitary time - likely in the hope that some of Sizhui’s calm demeanor would rub off on their unrestrained son.

Lan Wangji never told them that he hoped for the opposite.

So, while the books on the table in front of the two boys stayed mostly unread, and Lan Jingyi laughed perhaps a little more loudly than was appropriate at something Sizhui whispered into his ear, Lan Wangji simply carried on writing and left them to it.

Still, he registered the moment when the whispering stopped, and he heard the two boys cross the room to stand beside his desk. He glanced up, seeing from the look on their faces that they’d likely decided to ask him whatever they’d been arguing over.

“Speak.”

“Hanguang Jun, could you tell us about the Yiling Patriarch?”

Sizhui’s question hit Lan Wangji with an abruptness that knocked the air out of his lungs. His shock must have shown on his face, as he stared up into Sizhui’s open, innocently curious eyes, because Sizhui’s expression rapidly changed from curiosity to concern.

Lan Jingyi started to speak, but stopped when Sizhui gripped his wrist.

“It’s alright, Hanguang Jun. Actually, Grandmaster didn’t want us to talk about him, so there’s no need for us to know any more.”

Dropping his gaze away, Lan Wangji saw his hand, still holding his brush, frozen in the air halfway to his inkstone. Deliberately, he made his arm move, forcing himself to breathe as he dipped the brush into ink.

“It’s fine. Sit.”

The boys exchanged glances, and then quickly moved to sit in front of the desk.

“Why did you ask?” Not truly knowing what he was writing, but finding it impossible to do nothing, Lan Wangji let his hand move across the paper in front of him.

“One of the outside disciples asked Grandmaster about him in class today. He got…a little upset.” Sizhui spoke cautiously, but Lan Wangji had enough personal experience to know exactly how furious Lan Qiren became at the slightest mention of Wei Wuxian.  

“I see.”

“He said that the Yiling Patriarch had followed a heretical path, threatening the entire cultivation world, and so the greater sects banded together to defeat him at great cost. He said that nothing else about him was worth discussing, so he wouldn’t speak of him anymore.”

“And then he told the disciple who asked about him to copy Virtue twice.” Lan Jingyi added.

Sizhui nodded, “Yes. And then, well, Jingyi…” He slid a sideways glance at his friend.  

“I said that if the path he followed was really all that bad I didn’t understand why we still use his compass and talismans to night hunt.” Lan Jingyi shuddered a little at the memory. “He, uh, got a lot more angry. His face went really red. There was spit on my table.”

“He told Jingyi to copy Virtue five times, and Conduct too.”

Lan Wangji was only surprised Lan Qiren had stopped there. Since he felt calmer now, he let himself look over at the table where the two had been sitting, still covered in closed books and blank sheets of paper.

“And is that what you were doing?”

A little embarrassed, Lan Jingyi tugged at his ear. “Sorry, Hanguang Jun. I’ll do it in the morning. It doesn’t take me long to get through, I’ve had to do it so many times.”

Lan Wangji studied him, and in a corner of his mind decided he’d come up with something new the next time he had to punish the junior disciples. Simply copying was clearly no longer enough.

“But Grandmaster did tell us a little more after that.” Sizhui continued. “He said that the Yiling Patriarch’s methods had blackened his own soul, turning him into a monster who would corrupt anyone who got too close to him. He said that he’d even left his mark on the Gusu Lan Sect, though he wouldn’t say how, or who.”

Lan Jingyi nodded. “He just said that now the Yiling Patriarch couldn’t corrupt anyone but himself any more than he already had, so he was glad he was dead.”

At that, Lan Wangji’s brief calm scattered. His hands formed into fists, tightening, and tightening more until he felt the silent snap of the wooden brush he’d forgotten he still held.

Gently, carefully, he laid it down on the desk.

“He really wouldn’t say more after that. But after class the outside disciples were talking.” Lan Jingyi said. “One of the Lanling Jin Sect disciples, especially. He told everyone that the Yiling Patriarch was a traitor who defected after the Sunshot Campaign, and that a bunch of cultivators died because of him when they tried to defend themselves from the- well, he called them the Wen-dogs and-”

Lan Wangji’s head snapped up. “Don’t allow others to refer to them in that way.”

“Oh no, we didn’t.” Lan Jingyi glanced at Sizhui, who flushed a little and ducked his head. “Sizhui told them not to. That was when all the rest of the Jin disciples got huffy and tried to make Sizhui apologize, because they said he’d insulted Lianfang Zun’s cousin, and when he wouldn’t they tried to start a fight, which is even more stupid because Sizhui-” Lan Jingyi’s words cut off abruptly when he turned his head again and caught the wide-eyed alarm on Sizhui’s face. “Um- well. Anyway, Sizhui told him not to do that anymore. And no one fought anyone, at all.”

Sizhui didn’t quite meet Lan Wangji’s eyes as he hurriedly spoke. “All the disciples had stories about him digging up someone’s ancestor, or cursing some clan for offending him. Sect Leader Yao’s son said his father always talks about how ungrateful he was, how he would have been nothing at all if it weren’t for the Yunmeng Jiang Sect taking him in, and then he killed them all except for Sect Leader Jiang. But only because he killed him first.”

“Yes.” Lan Jingyi nodded, “But he also said his father told him that the Yiling Patriarch steals bad children away in the night if they don’t listen to their parents, and he still believes him, so I don’t think we can trust anything he says.”  

“I suppose not. And a lot of the rest of the stories don’t really add up, like him going around and poisoning wells, or making food stores go rotten. If he really did half the things they said then he must have had a great deal of spare time on his hands.”

“I bet most of the rumors are made up.” Lan Jingyi snorted. “Like him stealing people’s wives.”

That caught Lan Wangji’s attention. “Stealing people’s wives?”

“Apparently some clan head’s wife was kidnapped by the Yiling Patriarch. But we think she ran off with him on her own and her husband was just too ashamed to tell everyone the truth.”

Considering, Lan Wangji angled his head. “Hm.”

“But…” Sizhui looked at Lan Wangji. “Even if most of the rumors about the things he did are made up, Grandmaster said that when the sects fought against him, especially at the end, a lot of people died. That part was true, wasn’t it?”

Lan Wangji studied Sizhui’s expression for a long second, before nodding.

“So he was an evil person?”

The question, said so simply, dug under Lan Wangji’s skin like a sharp, jagged blade. Not speaking, he dropped his gaze to the paper he’d been mindlessly writing on. To his utter shock he saw he’d drawn the characters for Wei Ying’s name.

Simply seeing that intimate name, so bold and black against the white of the paper, Lan Wangji felt his thoughts turn to smoke.  

He hadn’t planned to explain Wei Ying to Sizhui yet. He hadn’t known how. If he couldn’t make his brother or his uncle understand the faith he felt in him, despite everything he’d done, how could he explain it in a way a child would accept? Especially A-Yuan. Lan Wangji couldn’t bear the idea of A-Yuan hating Wei Ying. Or worse, of him being glad he was dead.

And yet now the child he had watched Wei Ying carry in his arms was asking him, in all innocence and trust, if the man who had saved him had been evil.

When Lan Wangji lifted his head to meet Sizhui’s eyes, he found them calm and direct, as they nearly always were. Lan Jingyi beside him had his mouth clamped shut, though he looked as though he was almost vibrating in place while he waited for Lan Wangji to answer Sizhui’s question.

Somehow, even the silence of the room seemed be holding its breath, waiting for him to speak. But Lan Wangji’s head was empty of coherent thought, so even when he opened his mouth he had no idea what would come out.

“He was very irritating.”

The two young faces watching him showed almost as much surprise as Lan Wangji felt, and yet the words continued to pour out of him.  

“He was loud, obnoxious, aggravating. Noisy. Completely shameless. Impossible to ignore. It was hard to focus on anything else, when he was beside you. He’d make you furious, and then he’d do something that made you feel as if he was the most remarkable person you’d ever met. And then he’d make you furious again.”

Lan Wangji dropped his eyes, studied the curving lines of black ink on the paper in front of him. “He was always laughing.”

“Laughing?” Sizhui asked, when Lan Wangji said nothing else.

“Mn. Even when the situation seemed terrible, he’d find something to laugh about.” Lan Wangji stared at the broken brush on his desk. There had been times Wei Ying hadn’t been able to laugh. He didn’t like remembering those times, since they held a great many of his own worst memories.

“He wasn’t a fool though, was he?” Lan Jingyi asked, leaning forward, unable to keep quiet any longer. “He couldn’t have done everything he did if he was.”

“He wasn’t. But he’d pretend to be one, if he needed to.”

Lan Jingyi frowned. “Why would he need to?”

“To protect himself, to protect others.” He ignored the blank looks on the boy’s faces. It was something he’d seen Wei Ying do again and again, but it was so alien to Lan Wangji’s own character that he knew he wouldn’t be able to explain it any more clearly. “Protecting others was…very important to Wei- to Wei Wuxian.”

“So that rumor about him defecting to the Qishan Wen Sect and defending it from the rest of the sects – that was true?”

Hesitating, Lan Wangji wondered how to explain. Especially to Sizhui, who would one day very much need to understand the truth behind that particular story.

“In a way, yes.”

“In a way?”

“The Qishan Wen Sect was destroyed in the Sunshot Campaign. After that, all that was left was the people.”

Sizhui suddenly frowned. “The people?”

“Oh, I think I know what you mean.” Lan Jingyi sat up straight, speaking eagerly as he turned to Sizhui. “Grandmaster told us that by the time Lianfang Zun killed Wen Ruohan, his sons and most of his generals were already dead, so there wasn’t really much fighting after that. The territory was divided between the other sects.” He looked up at Lan Wangji. “The people must have been taken in along with their lands, right?”

”No.” Sizhui spoke slowly, before Lan Wangji could say anything. “Remember, the disciple from Qinghe was talking about that today, after all the Jin disciples left? He said that some Lanling Jin clans actually used to be under the Qishan Wen Sect, which was why a few of them looked really uncomfortable when we were talking about the Yiling Patriarch defecting. He said that Sect Leader Nie had shown him records listing which of the clans bordering Qinghe had been brought in by Chifeng Zun because they’d already intermarried with Nie Sect clans before the Sunshot Campaign, but he told him some of the richer clans were taken in by the Lanling Jin Sect.”

“Then who did the Yiling Patriarch side with?”

“I think I- I might know what happened.” Sizhui started, and then shut his mouth.

Lan Wangji met his eyes again and saw, with both pride and a little regret, the understanding in them. “Go on.”

“Some clans would have been useful to the greater sects, especially the ones with more money, or with valuable cultivators.” As he spoke, Sizhui watched Lan Wangji’s face, reading his reactions. “Especially if they were powerful enough that their belongings couldn’t simply be seized. But not all of the clans under Qishan Wen would have had those resources. And not everyone would have belonged to a clan. The ones without, maybe – were those the people the Yiling Patriarch sided with?”

Lan Jingyi nodded. “It makes sense. I mean, if the other sects felt the Gusu Lan Sect had done something very wrong and attacked us tomorrow, what would happen to the ordinary people of Gusu? Or even retired cultivators, or former disciples who decided to go be farmers, or fishermen instead. They’d be in the way.”

Saying nothing, Lan Wangji watched the two young men as they, on their own, saw into the complexities of something that many of his own generation, and his uncle’s, still remained blind to.

Sizhui nodded. “I think the Yiling Patriarch must have had a strong sense of justice.”

Lan Jingyi made a face and elbowed Sizhui. “See? Told you those rumors were stupid. No one is that petty. And he sounds so much more interesting than all the other boring people Grandmaster goes on and on about all the time.” Abruptly, as if suddenly remembering who else was in the room, he shot Lan Wangji a slightly panicked look.

Sizhui spoke quickly, attracting Lan Wangji’s attention. “Was the Yiling Patriarch very weak, when he was younger? Was that why he chose to find other ways to gain power?”

Lan Wangji shook his head, slowly, as he let himself remember the past. “He ranked near the top whenever the clans competed. We fought a few times. He was a strong swordsman.”

“Better than you?” Lan Jingyi blurted out the question, his eyes wide.

“No.” Lan Wangji said immediately, and then paused for a moment before correcting himself. “I don’t know. At first we never fought to the end, so neither of us ever beat the other. And after the Sunshot Campaign he stopped carrying his sword.”

“If he was that good, why didn’t he use his sword anymore?”

It was a question Lan Wangji had asked over and over, and one Wei Ying had given him so many different answers to. He’d say he’d forgotten it. Or it had gotten in his way, so he’d set it down somewhere. He hadn’t felt like carrying it. It hadn’t matched his outfit. It was too easy to beat others and he’d gotten bored of everyone challenging him.

The more charitable people around them had said he was simply forgetful. More had called him out for being deliberately rude.

Lan Wangji had worried that he’d become too drunk on the power of the resentful spirits he’d learned to control to go back to using a simple sword, but even that answer had never fit any better than the ones Wei Ying had given him.  

So, for now, Lan Wangji could only shake his head. “I don’t know. He used his flute, Chenqing, and he used the other talismans and tools he invented.”

Lan Jingyi sat up straight. “Talismans? Like the ones we’re learning to use when we go night hunting?”

“Mn.”

“There were others, like those?”

“He made many. The ones you use…they deviate from the orthodox, but are considered necessary evils. Others go too far. I doubt you’ll ever see them. But…” Lan Wangji hesitated, before continuing. “Some were different.”

“Different?”

“Mn. When we were young. He was always coming up with new things.” Lan Wangji looked into the boy’s eager faces, and wondered if it was selfish of him to want to show them this other side of Wei Ying.

But this was Wei Ying, to him, in all his complexity.

Making up his mind, he reached into his sleeve and drew out a talisman, activating and releasing it in one smooth motion.

A shimmering cloud of golden light exploded into the room. Sizhui and Lan Jingyi shot to their feet, their faces full of wonder as glittering butterflies filled the air  

“In a fight, these distract, buy time to escape. They’re useful when there are people who can’t defend themselves close by.” Lan Wangji sat where he was, watching, remembering. He’d used this particular trick often, over the years. It had helped save him more than once.

A moment later, he realized that while Lan Jingyi was still staring up at the butterflies, awestruck, Sizhui had turned his head and was looking back at him instead.

“They’re very pretty.”

“Mn.” Lan Wangji nodded.

Sizhui smiled, softly, and his young eyes were full of understanding. “I think I have an idea of what kind of person the Yiling Patriarch was now.” He took Lan Jingyi’s arm to get his attention, and led him into a shallow bow. “Thank you for telling us. We’ll get back to work.”

 -

 Later, Lan Wangji sat alone.

He’d gone back to writing, with a new brush, while Sizhui had gotten Lan Jingyi through his copying. But Sizhui had left to bring Lan Jingyi home and the room had suddenly become far too quiet without the noise the two boys had been making to fill it.

Suddenly restless, Lan Wangji swept to his feet.

It was well past twilight and music was forbidden at night in Cloud Recesses, but that was one of the rules Lan Wangji had long since decided he couldn’t follow. Sitting in front of his guqin, he let his fingers start to play over the strings.

Music began to echo through the room. At first he kept to soothing, steadying songs, but when his mind refused to settle he began to pour the restlessness he felt, the turmoil beneath his rigid calm, out into the notes he played.

Bit by bit, he felt himself empty.

After a while, the music changed, becoming something close to peaceful, and Lan Wangji saw a movement in the doorway. He looked up, and found Sizhui standing just outside, watching him.

He placed his hands across the strings to quiet them.

“Did you bring Lan Jingyi home?”

Sizhui nodded, and then hesitated for a moment, before speaking. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

There was no denying it, even if Lan Wangji had thought there was a good reason he should. “It’s alright to be sad, sometimes.”

“Yes, I know. You taught me that.” Smiling softly, Sizhui walked into the room and dropped down lightly to sit beside Lan Wangji at the guqin table. “I’m still sorry for it.”

He said nothing else, and after a moment Lan Wangji began to play again. This time he played another song, one he’d made when Sizhui had been young and hadn’t wanted to go to sleep.

It was a long while before Sizhui spoke. “Hanguang Jun, there is one thing I don’t understand. Can I ask you another question?”

“Mn.”

“Why did you oppose him so strongly?”

Still playing, Lan Wangji let himself put his words together in his head before he spoke. “For a while, I wasn’t sure he was the same as he’d always been. I thought the power he used had changed him. Or would.”

“So you fought against him.”

“At first.” Lan Wangji nodded. “But not at the end. I realized the core of him had not changed, even though his methods were dangerous.” To others, and to Wei Ying himself.

Sizhui studied him. “But not evil.”

Lan Wangji’s fingers stopped playing, and he sat still, watching the strings continue to vibrate for a long moment.

“What is evil?”

Instantly, he wished he could take the words back. He lifted his head, his lips forming an apology, but Sizhui was already speaking.

“I guess there isn’t a simple answer to that, is there?” Drawing his legs up beneath him in a pose he only used when it was the two of them alone, Sizhui settled himself more comfortably. “You could look at someone’s actions, or the effects of their actions, but I don’t think that would give you an answer either. I mean, good people must do bad things sometimes, or the other way around.”

He wasn’t watching Lan Wangji, so he missed the startled shock on his face as he continued. “Like Jingyi. Last week he was playing around and tripped one of the older disciples. He broke his arm, so he can’t go night hunting for a few months and he’s going to be behind the rest of his class, and he can’t write so Grandmaster has him standing up and answering all his exam questions out loud, in front of everybody, and he’s doing really, really badly at it. But then there was that disciple who was expelled last month because he stole someone else’s food from home, and then he lied and tried to make it look like a maid took it. Jingyi maybe caused more lasting harm, but didn’t get expelled. He just got yelled at a lot, and has to run around helping the older disciple all day.”

Shrugging easily, Sizhui’s eyes were still on the night sky outside the open door as he continued. “I think evil would probably have to come from people’s intentions, and those are really hard to see. Until you know someone really well, anyway.” He turned his head to look up at Lan Wangji, and smiled. “I trust you. If you trusted him, then I will too, for now, until I see a good reason to change my mind. Does that work?”

“Mn. I think it works very well.” Lips curving, Lan Wangji reached out to adjust Sizhui’s perfectly straight forehead ribbon. “I think that’s enough questions now. It’s close to nine. Go, get ready for bed.”

Instantly, Sizhui’s too adult expression changed into something a great deal younger. “But I have more questions. Can’t I stay up?”

“More questions. Really?”

Sizhui giggled, a sound that had become rare enough as he grew older that it tugged at Lan Wangji’s heart every time he heard it. “No. But I can come up with some.”

“Go to sleep, Sizhui. I’ll see you in the morning.”

 -

 After Sizhui was gone, Lan Wangji stood in the open doorway of his home. He watched his mother’s purple gentian dance in the soft, warm breeze, and thought of Wei Ying.

A monster with a black soul? No. He didn’t believe that.

He’d had too long to remember every moment they’d known each other. He’d traced through all the times Wei Ying had thrown himself into danger for his sister, his brother, for random cultivators on the battlefields whose names he’d never even known. For Wen Ning. For A-Yuan.

The times he’d risked himself for Lan Wangji.

When Wei Ying had come back so changed after the burning of Lotus Pier and the endless months he’d been missing, Lan Wangji had felt torn apart, uncertain of everything. Wei Ying had started down a path that had left him alone against the rest of the world, and the rules Lan Wangji had governed his life by told him he had to stand on the side of the world.

He’d fractured himself apart with his own uncertainty, and by the time he’d put himself back together it had been too late. Wei Ying had been dead. If there was any way Lan Wangji could go back and tell his younger self to dive in, to stand firmly beside Wei Ying the way he’d so desperately wanted to back then, he’d go in an instant.

He knew that if he ever had the chance again, in another life, he’d throw every fragment of his soul in beside Wei Ying’s.

There was no more uncertainty left. He’d go against the universe itself if he had to.

Turning his face up to the sky, Lan Wangji took in a deep breath, and for the moment, since he was alone, let himself feel the depths of the sorrow and longing that lived inside his soul, always.

  Present.

There were tears on Lan Wangji’s face when he woke. Blinking into the darkness of his room, he heard again the rustling that must have woken him an instant before Wei Ying’s freezing body dove under the blankets and burrowed in beside him.

The nose pressing into the crook of his neck was as cold as ice. Lan Wangji stroked his hands down Wei Ying’s back, feeling the cold radiating off of him. “How did it go?”

“Freezing.” Wei Ying nestled in closer to Lan Wangji. “But the juniors did well.”

“Was it a ghost?”

“Uh huh.” Yawning, Wei Ying’s body started to relax against Lan Wangji’s. “You’ve got a good batch there. The ghost turned out to be the late wife of the man who asked us for help. She was haunting him because he’d opened up her grave to steal her jewelry, to give it to the woman he’s been trying to talk into marrying him. I was happy to leave him to her, once we figured out what was happing. Jingyi was too.” Wei Ying snorted, and then paused, considering. “Actually, maybe I’ve corrupted the rest of them too because I think they mostly all felt the same way. I sort of wished Jin Ling or Ouyang Zizhen were they, they’d probably have run the guy through before Sizhui talked us all out of it.”

He sighed, and pressed his face against the heat of Lan Wangji’s chest. “He pointed out the poor dead wife didn’t deserve to be stuck to the man for the rest of her existence, so we returned all her jewelry and helped her rest. I did enjoy putting the fear of me into the husband, though. He’ll leave her things alone now. And I suppose Sizhui had a point about it being the right thing to do.”

His hair tickled Lan Wangji’s nose as he shook his head. “Honestly, that boy almost always is right. It makes me mad at you, sometimes. How’d you get to raise such a smart kid?”

“He was smart when I got him.”

Wei Ying raised his head, and moonlight sparkled in his eyes as he grinned at Lan Wangji. The grin vanished in an instant the moment he saw Lan Wangji’s face.

“You were crying? What��s wrong?” Panicked, he pushed himself up until he could sweep his hands over Lan Wangji’s cheeks.

“It’s alright. Just a memory.”  

“A bad one?”

“No, not really.” Not anymore.

Wei Ying waited, and when Lan Wangji said nothing more, rolled his eyes. “Lan Zhan. Are you going to tell me about it, or not?”

Lan Wangji’s lips curved. “Not.”

Wei Ying huffed out a breath, but there was relief on his face as he saw Lan Wangji truly did not look unhappy. And then he blinked, and grinned as mischief grew in his eyes. He lifted one leg to drape it teasingly over Lan Wangji’s hips. “Maybe I can convince you to talk?”

In one quick move, Lan Wangji flipped their bodies, until he was looking down at Wei Ying beneath him.

“Fine, fine. Keep your secrets.” Laughing up at him, Wei Ying lifted his fingers to trace them over Lan Wangji’s face.

Lan Wangji pressed his cheek into the palm of Wei Ying’s hand, and felt a happy warmth grow in his chest, dispelling the very last echoes of remembered sadness. He smiled down at Wei Ying.

And decided that the color of Wei Ying’s eyes, as he laughed up at him in the dark, truly were his favorite shade of black.

[victortortor]

so you’re telling me jiang fengmian just took the first little boy on the streets that said their name was wei ying

(featuring a premise-appropriate rarepair, the one ultimate truth, and now on ao3)

Jiang Fengmian didn’t find Wei Wuxian in Yiling.

The boy was small and dirty. He looked up blankly when Jiang Fengmian approached him, asked kindly, “Wei Ying?”

It was a miracle that after four years, he still remembered his own name. And that had been the end of the matter.  He took him back to Yunmeng, and raised him as his own son.

Wei Ying was always smiling. He had a rather pleasant disposition, and despite a rough beginning, before long he and Jiang Cheng were laughing together before long.

His wife did not take it as well. She raged at him, and he accepted it. If this was the payment he had to pay to care for Cangse-Sanren’s son, then it was an easy price. 

Yu Ziyuan’s ire faded over time. After all, when both Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng were put on the training grounds, it was clear that the latter possessed far more innate talent.

Wei Wuxian, as he became known as, was not the most talented cultivator. But he was remarkably intelligent, possessed a quick wit and such a good temperament and personality that one couldn’t help but admire him regardless of his talent.

“When you become sect leader,” Wei Wuxian said to Jiang Cheng teasingly, “I’ll help you out with diplomatic things. You scowl too much.”

They were both eleven at the time, and taking a quick rest. It was mid-afternoon, and the heat was practically unbearable. Sweat stained both their clothes.

Jiang Cheng scowled at this, but replied magnanimously, “In return, you’ll be my best person.”

“Best person?”

“Best person,” Jiang Cheng said. “Just the best person. I’ll like you best.”

“That sounds good to me,” Wei Wuxian laughed, then switched topics. “In any case, I should run through those sword forms.”

Jiang Cheng returned confusedly, “But you already did, and it was all correct.”

“I know. But it can’t be helped,” Wei Wuxian said, “I don’t have any spiritual power to put any real force behind it unless I concentrate. It’s hard to think on both the sword form and the power all at once, so I think I should practice the former until I can do it without thinking hard about it, and then I can just focus on the latter.”

Without waiting for a response, he got back up and picked up a training sword.

Jiang Cheng watched him for minute or two, then got back up too and did them with him.

He said when Wei Wuxian threw him a questioning look, “I’ll do them with you.”

At thirteen, they were running through Yunmeng together, laughing boisterously and taking their first sips of liquor with exaggerated gagging sounds. They swam in the lake and picked lotus pods. They both had swords forged for them.

“Sandu,” Jiang Cheng said proudly, when Wei Wuxian asked for the name. “Yours?”

Wei Wuxian flushed uncomfortably. “I... made a mistake.”

“What?”

“When Uncle Jiang asked me for a name, I said, ‘Don’t know... could I possibly decide later?’ And then...” He helplessly held out the newly forged sword.

Jiang Cheng leaned forward and choked.

“不知道?” He got out, and Wei Wuxian nodded meekly.

“Have it remade,” Jiang Cheng said immediately.

“I still can’t think of a name I would like, though,” Wei Wuxian said. “And it’s a perfectly fine sword otherwise.”

And so the sword named “Don’t Know” stayed. Wei Wuxian had a knack of getting around saying it aloud, so much that he admitted to Jiang Cheng a few months later, “I’m beginning to like the name.”

“You are?” Jiang Cheng stared at him like he was crazy.

“It’s fun,” Wei Wuxian replied. “I have to really work to misdirect people into thinking about something else, and I found out it’s a strange, but interesting pastime.”

“Well, you’re very good at it,” Jiang Cheng said compromisingly, but he still stared at Wei Wuxian a bit oddly.

The one time he didn’t try to change the subject at all was when Jin Zixuan came by again. Just as always, he was an unwilling visitor, and Jiang Cheng was just about ready to punch him after he snapped after Jiang Yanli once too many when Wei Wuxian said appeasingly, “Jin Zixuan, I see you’ve gotten your sword forged!”

He sneered and said, “I did.”

“It’s name?”

“Suihua,” Jin Zixuan replied, and reluctantly returned when he saw that Wei Wuxian had his own sword as well, “And the name of yours?”

“I don’t know,” Wei Wuxian said guilelessly. “Why would I?”

Jiang Cheng laughed about it for weeks. “His expression when you said that,” he said. “He looked so confused!”

Wei Wuxian laughed with him. “I wish he weren’t so harsh on shijie,” he said carefully.

“You should just say it without diplomacy,” Jiang Cheng snorted. “Jin Zixuan is horrible, and I hope he never comes over again. Jie doesn’t deserve to get married to someone as terrible as him. She keeps saying that he’ll probably get better as he grows up, but I bet he’ll become a womanizer just like his father.”

Wei Wuxian replied noncommittally, “Mm.”

From thirteen to fifteen, they did not grow apart. 

They rolled down hills together, pushed each other into mud pits and shot kites down. They grew up together, and something began to change.

As Wei Wuxian grew, his features became rather handsome. Not amazingly so, but he was pleasing to look at and Jiang Cheng found as if he would stare him longer.

Jiang Cheng, on the hand, had always been a good-looking child, and it did not change as he became a tall, sharp-looking youth. They were at a marriageable age, and something began to change.

They spent more time together. They poured each other alcohol and drank from the same cup, they wrestled with vigor and made more and more excuses to run around together, doing nothing but talking and laughing around the lake.

When they were fifteen, Jiang Cheng kissed Wei Wuxian when they were lighting lanterns into the night sky.

Wei Wuxian returned it, and they laughed some more into the night.

But soon, Wei Wuxian’s smile faded as the night progressed, and Jiang Cheng’s own faltered because of it.

“A-Cheng,” Wei Wuxian said, staring straight ahead, “There’s something I want to tell you.”

Wei Wuxian said finally, “There’s no good way to say it. Do remember when Uncle Jiang first brought me here?”

“I remember enough.”

“He didn’t find me too far from the Lotus Pier,” Wei Wuxian said. “I was living on the streets when he found me.”

“I know.”

“He took me in because he was good friends with my parents.”

Jiang Cheng finally said, “Wei Wuxian, what are you trying to get at?”

Wei Wuxian continued as if he hadn’t said anything to begin with. “I have a very good memory, and I remember my mother before she died very well. Yet, I don’t remember my father at all. The reason behind this is just that he was never there. The entire time since I’ve been born to when Uncle Jiang found me, I didn’t see him once.”

“...”

“But my mother always told me stories about him,” Wei Wuxian said. “About who he was, and what a great person he was. She always wanted to see him again. But then she died, and she never had the chance to.”

Jiang Cheng said very slowly, “Cangse-Sanren and her husband... died on the same night hunt.”

“I know,” Wei Wuxian could only smile helplessly. “As I said, I don’t know how to say it properly.”

Jiang Cheng wasn’t stupid, and he caught on quick enough. “You lied to my father,” he said slowly, and something rising in his voice. “You aren’t Wei Wuxian at all.”

“I was thrown to the streets after my mother died,” Wei Wuxian turned to Jiang Cheng sharply. “Every day I went to sleep starving, and every day I had to fight like a dog to just find a bit of rotten rice to eat and throw up the day after. I lived like that for four years. It’s a life I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

“You --”

“I didn’t mean to lie at the time,” Wei Wuxian said, and his voice faltered. “Uncle Jiang simply called a name out, and I happened to look up. Before I knew it, he was giving things to eat, and clothes that weren’t rags to wear. I thought, even if I wasn’t Wei Ying, it wouldn’t hurt to pretend a bit. I was so hungry, A-Cheng. I was so cold. I didn’t mean to lie to begin with, but I continued because I didn’t want to die.”

“So you lied for the next six years?” Jiang Cheng snapped. “You could have told someone! You could have told me!”

“I was scared,” he said, and his tone was heartfelt. “In the end, I’m nothing more than a gutter rat, right? Why should Uncle Jiang keep me if I’m not Wei Ying?”

“I wouldn’t have told him then,” Jiang Cheng snarled, and Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t care what your name is! I don’t care if you’re just some nobody! To me, you’re always someone! You’re you! It’s not about that! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I’m sorry,” Wei Wuxian said. “I was wrong. I should have told you. The longer I lied, the worse I felt. You have all been good to me, and I’ve repaid you with nothing but falsity. It’s why I’m telling you now, because I don’t want to keep this up anymore.”

His tone was honest and sincere, and Jiang Cheng already felt himself cracking. “Why didn’t you just tell me,” he repeated.

“I’m sorry,” Wei Wuxian said miserably, “I want to make this right. I like you, A-Cheng, and I told you because I wanted you to know. I hope you can forgive me.”

In the darkness, neither of them spoke for a moment. The water of Lotus Lake lapped at the wooden planks.

“You’ve lied to me the entire time,” Jiang Cheng finally said. “How do I know you’re not lying about this?”

Wei Wuxian responded simply, “That one lie filled me with enough guilt, how could I possibly stomach another?” Then he said, “Would I really have kissed you otherwise?”

Trust me, he wanted to say. Wei Wuxian had always been good with lying. But he didn’t want to lie to Jiang Cheng anymore.

“... I’ll forgive you if I can know one thing,” he said finally.

“What is it?” Wei Wuxian said immediately.

“I want to know your real name,” Jiang Cheng said.

“... I haven’t gone by that name in a very long time.”

“Even so, I want to know,” he persisted. In a lower voice he muttered awkwardly, “I want to know more about you.”

At that, Wei Wuxian laughed merrily as Jiang Cheng flushed. 

“Meng Yao,” he finally relented. “I was called Meng Yao.”

[mxystan]

Extra: Lotus Pods 1

i don’t know if others have done this already, but here are my translations for ch126 and ch127 of mdzs, the lotus pod extras (adapted once in audio drama season 1)

featuring: summer shenanigans, yunmeng kids doing Crimes and having Fun, single dog jiang cheng

Chapter 126, Extra 6: Lotus Pods 1 (gdocs mirror)

Chapter 127, Extra 6: Lotus Pods 2 (gdocs mirror)

Lotus Pier.

Outside the training hall, the cicadas chirped noisily. 

Inside the training hall, fallen bodies lined the floor in rows, too pathetic to even look at.

A dozen shirtless teenagers laid in there, tossing and turning, like pancakes on a hot pan, occasionally letting out pitiful keens.

“It’s… so hot….”

“I’m dying…”

Wei Wuxian squinted up at the ceiling, his thoughts muddled by the heat. Man, he thought, if only it could be as cool as the Cloud Recesses in here!

The floor underneath him had already warmed, having absorbed some of his body temperature, so he flipped over, hoping to cool that side as well. At the same time, Jiang Cheng turned as well, his arm brushing against Wei Wuxian’s leg as he did so. 

Wei Wuxian’s response was immediate. “Jiang Cheng, move your arm. It feels like a piece of coal.”

“Move your leg first,” Jiang Cheng groaned.

“A leg’s heavier than an arm,” Wei Wuxian shot back. “It’d take more effort for me to move. You do it.”

Jiang Cheng’s temper suddenly flared. “Don’t you start with that,” he said. “Shut your goddamn mouth, the heat gets more insufferable the more you talk!”

“Can you two stop arguing?” asked the youngest disciple. “I swear I’m sweating more just listening to you guys.”

But at that point, the two of them had already started fighting, slapping and kicking feebly at each other as they yelled:

“Fuck off!”

“You fuck off!”

“No no no, you may fuck off!”

“No, I insist, you may kindly fuck off first!”

Hearing this, the six younger disciples joined in as well, their chorus of angry complaints blending seamlessly into the squabbling.

“If you’re gonna fight, take it outside!”

“I’m begging you here, both of you please fuck off!”

“Hear that?” said Wei Wuxian. “They’re telling you to fuck off. You… let go of my leg! You’re gonna break it!!”

A vein twitched in Jiang Cheng’s temple. “They were talking to you, you piece of shit! I’ll let go of your leg when you let go of my arm!”

From outside the screen door, they suddenly heard the rustle of skirts.

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian immediately separated.

Jiang Yanli poked her head in, looking around. “Ah,” she said. “So this is where you all were hiding.”

The disciples received her warmly with calls of “Shijie!” and “Hello Shijie!” Some of them, more easily abashed, scrambled to hide their bare chests in front of her and scurried away to squat in a corner.

“How come you all decided to take a break for today?” Jiang Yanli asked.

“We were dying out there,” whined Wei Wuxian. “It’s so hot today! Too hot! If we try to practice in these conditions, our skin would peel off! Please, don’t tell on us!”

Hearing him, Jiang Yanli turned her head and took a closer look at him and Jiang Cheng. “Have you two been fighting again?”

“No!”

Jiang Yanli let herself in, carefully balancing a plate in her hands. “Then why is there a footprint on Jiang Cheng’s chest?”

Did he actually leave evidence? Wei Wuxian snapped his head around to check. He really did!

But, at this point, no one cared if he and Jiang Cheng had been fighting. Everyone’s attention was now singularly focused on the plate of watermelon in Jiang Yanli’s hands. 

–

The horde of growing young men made quick work of dividing up the fruit, and now sat on the floor, munching on their slices. It didn’t take long for a small mountain of watermelon skins to appear.

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian could make a competition out of any activity. Watermelon eating, of course, was no exception. With ferocious speed, they shoved slice after slice into their mouths, with such intensity that the rest left them a wide berth to avoid the inevitable splashback. 

Wei Wuxian engaged in the competition with great enthusiasm, eating with gusto. Halfway through a bite, though, he suddenly let out an amused snort. 

“Don’t you dare,” said Jiang Cheng, a little wary.

Wei Wuxian grabbed another slice. “What? Don’t worry, I wasn’t gonna do anything. I was just thinking about someone, that’s all.”

“Who?”

“Lan Zhan.”

Jiang Cheng groaned. “Why the hell are you bringing him up again? Do you miss copying sect rules that much?”

Wei Wuxian spat out some seeds. “I was thinking about how fun he was! You know, he’s pretty interesting. I told him, once, that the food they make at his place was truly atrocious, I’d rather eat fried watermelon skin than the bland food they serve here! Why not just come over to Yunmeng-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Jiang Cheng interrupted with a swipe at his watermelon, slapping it askew. “What were you thinking, asking him to come over? Are you a goddamn masochist?”

“Hey hey hey! You almost made me drop my melon! I was just saying that, he wasn’t actually gonna come over. I mean, can you imagine him just doing something like that, going off to play on his own?”

Jiang Cheng’s tone, however, was still serious. “Still, I don’t want him here. Don’t just go around inviting other people over.”

Wei Wuxian frowned. “I didn’t know you hated him that much?”

“I don’t,” said Jiang Cheng. “I have no real opinion of him. But if he really does come over, there’s no way my mom would ever shut up about him. And once she gets going, don’t think you’d get off easy either.”

“Whatever, let him come!” Wei Wuxian declared. “If he really does take up my offer, just tell Uncle Jiang to make him sleep in my room. I promise, I wouldn’t even need a month to annoy him to death!”

Jiang Cheng snorted. “You want to sleep together with him for a month? Then I’ll bet it wouldn’t even take a week for him to get sick of your shit and stab you to death.”

“As if I’m scared of him,” Wei Wuxian said. “If we ever fight for real, I’d be more than a handful for him.”

His boastful claim was immediately shot down with a chorus of jeers. Jiang Yanli laughed and teased him for his cheek, but even so, she knew that Wei Wuxian’s confidence was not unfounded. She moved to sit between Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian. 

“Who are you talking about?” she asked. “Did you make a friend in Gusu?”

“Yup!” Wei Wuxian said cheerily. 

“Your definition of ‘friend’ must be loose if you’d count him as one,” Jiang Cheng deadpanned. “Ask the same question to Lan Wangji, and we’ll see if he’d accept your friendship.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Wei Wuxian said. “If he rejects me I’ll just bother him until we both die. We’ll see if he’d accept me then!”

Saying this, he turned back to Jiang Yanli. “Shijie, do you know of Lan Wangji?”

“Of course,” Jiang Yanli said, smiling. “He’s the esteemed second young master of Gusu everyone’s been talking about, right? Is he as handsome as they say?”

“Very handsome!”

“More so than you?”

Wei Wuxian paused in thought. “Maybe,” he decided. “But only by this much!”

He used his fingers to show Jiang Yanli the approximate difference between their looks, his thumb and forefinger almost touching. Jiang Yanli laughed as she collected the empty plates. “Then he must really be handsome. It’s good that you’re making new friends. If you are ever free, maybe you can visit one another?”

Jiang Cheng spat out a mouthful of melon, and Wei Wuxian immediately waved his arms in protest. “No, no, I’ll pass. The food at his place tastes bad and the rules are too strict. I’m not going back there.”

“Then you can bring him back,” Jiang Yanli replied. “This is a good opportunity, why not invite your friend over to stay for a while?”

Jiang Cheng sighed. “Don’t listen to him, Sis,” he said. “You should’ve seen how annoying he was in Gusu. There’s no way Lan Wangji would want to come over with him.”

“That’s slander!” Wei Wuxian yelled. “Of course he would!”

“Didn’t you hear Lan Wangji telling you to get lost? Or do I have to refresh your memory again?”

“Come on, you don’t get it!” Wei Wuxian said. “He might’ve told me to get lost, but I know what he really means! He really does want to come play with us in Yunmeng, I know it!”

“Every day,” said Jiang Cheng, “I want to ask myself: where the hell did you get your confidence?”

“Don’t even bother,” said Wei Wuxian. “If you’ve really been wondering that long, you should already know there’s no answer to that.”

Jiang Cheng shook his head, reached out to chuck his watermelon peel at Wei Wuxian’s head, and stopped cold at the sound of stomping feet. 

From a distance, a woman’s voice called coldly. 

“I was wondering where you pack of brats had gone…”

The disciples’ faces immediately blanched, and they scrambled to hide. Before they could do so, though, Madame Yu had already reached them, her flowing robes cutting an imposing silhouette as she glared down at them, her cold eyes flashing with menace. Seeing their bare chests and feet, their messiness and their dishevelment, her expression twisted further, her brows set in an even higher arch. 

In this moment, the disciples only had one thought. Shit!

They scurried to make their escape, but it was already too late.

“Jiang Cheng!” Madame Yu fumed. “Put on your shirt! Walking around bare-chested like some kind of madman, what on earth were you thinking! Are you trying to embarrass me out here?”

Jiang Cheng immediately fumbled to put back on his shirt, tied around his waist. Madame Yu then turned to the rest of them. “And you lot! Don’t you see A-Li’s here? Showing your sorry faces in front of a maiden in this condition, who taught you to be so shameless?”

Of course, there was only one answer to that question. So, to no one’s surprise, Madame Yu’s next move was to glare at her new target and shout, “Wei Ying! Do you want to die!?”

“I’m sorry!” Wei Wuxian yelled. “I didn’t know Shijie was coming! I’ll go get my clothes right now!”

“You dare try to leave!? Come over here and kneel!”

The crack of her whip accompanied this command, and Wei Wuxian yelped in pain as it connected with his back, knocking him down on the ground.

Suddenly, in Madame Yu’s ear, came an eerily serene voice. 

“Mom, would you like to eat some watermelon…”

Madame Yu jolted, startled by Jiang Yanli. By the time she recovered, the pack of hooligans had already made their escape, taking advantage of her momentary. Frustrated, she turned back to pinch Jiang Yanli’s cheeks.

“Eat?” she scolded. “You think I want to eat? Is food all you ever think about!?”

A few tears leaked out of Jiang Yanli’s eyes as her cheeks were pulled mercilessly. “Mom, A-Xian and the others were only sheltering from the heat,” she mumbled thickly. “I was the one who came to check on them, don’t blame them too much… you… you should really eat some watermelon… I’m not sure who sent them over, but they’re very sweet. Watermelons are really refreshing in the summer, sweet and juicy, I’ve already prepared a plate for you…”

Madame Yu had already been frustrated, made more hot-tempered by the heat, and now, hearing Jiang Yanli’s words, she was actually craving watermelon on top of all that. In such a situation… there’s nothing she could do but let her frustration increase.

–

The disciples, having finally taken off from Lotus Pier, rushed towards the harbor and hopped into a rowboat. After checking multiple times to see if there were any pursuers, Wei Wuxian finally relaxed and let out a breath of relief. His back protested as he tried to lift the oars, so he handed them off to one of his juniors and sat down to check on his back, still stinging from Madame Yu’s whip. “It’s really not fair,” he sulked. “Everyone was equally naked, so why was I the only one who got yelled at? Why was I the only one who got hit?”

“Perhaps because the sight of you shirtless burns the eyes,” said Jiang Cheng.

Wei Wuxian gave him a look, and jumped into the water. The rest of the disciples saw this and followed his example, leaving Jiang Cheng alone on the boat.

Jiang Cheng had a bad feeling about this. “What the hell are you trying to do!?”

Wei Wuxian swam over to the side of the boat and gave it a hard smack. The boat flipped over with Jiang Cheng in it, bobbing up and down in the water, its bottom facing straight up. Laughing madly, Wei Wuxian hopped onto the bottom, plopped down in a cross-legged sit, and grinned down at the fallen Jiang Cheng. 

“Eyes still burning?” he shouted. “Give us an answer, c’mon!”

The only response his teasing got was the sound of bubbles rising to the surface. Wei Wuxian wiped his face, puzzled. “Why hasn’t he come up yet?”

The youngest disciple gasped. “Did you drown him!?”

“Don’t be stupid!” Wei Wuxian said. Still, he sat back up, thinking to lend Jiang Cheng a hand, and suddenly heard a loud grunt from behind him. He could only utter a confused “huh” before he too fell into the water, pushed from behind by a sopping Jiang Cheng. The boat flipped back up. It turned out Jiang Cheng had stayed in the water after being pushed into it, and had bided his time so he could circle around and ambush Wei Wuxian.

Having both gotten the upper hand once, they circled each other in challenge while the others continued to splash around. 

“How come you get a weapon!?” Wei Wuxian shouted from the other side of the boat. “Put down the oar if you’re up for it! We’ll fight with our fists!!”

Jiang Cheng chuckled coldly. “Do you think me stupid? You’ll take it the second I put it down!” 

Saying this, he lunged at Wei Wuxian with speedy grace, whacking him mercilessly with the paddle as their juniors cheered him on. Taken by surprise, Wei Wuxian fumbled and bluffed, “Hey! I’m not that shameless!”

From all around him, the juniors laughed. “Only you’d be shameless enough to say that!”

The water fight continued, a messy, ruthless affair. Wei Wuxian kicked at Jiang Cheng until he finally collapsed on top of the boat and spat out a mouthful of pond water. “Alright, alright, I surrender! I declare a truce!”

The juniors, covered in weeds and pond-grass, protested, having only just gotten into the fun part. “Come on, why are you giving up so easily? Are you really going to beg for mercy just because you’re losing?”

“Who says I’m begging for mercy?” Wei Wuxian said. “I’m saving my strength for a rematch! I’m just too hungry to move for now, so let’s find something to eat.”

“Then should we go back?” asked the youngest. “We can probably squeeze in a few watermelons before dinner.”

“If we go back now,” said Jiang Cheng, “the only thing we’ll be eating is whip.”

Wei Wuxian, however, had already planned for this situation. “We’re not going back. We’re picking lotus pods!”

“Stealing,” Jiang Cheng corrected mockingly. “We’re stealing lotus pods.”

“It’s not like we don’t pay them back!”

The Yunmeng Jiang sect took good care of the villages around it, and never charged for exorcisms. So, for the villagers, handing over a few lotus pods wouldn’t be a big deal; hell, some of them wouldn’t even argue against reserving an entire acre for the sect that helps them so much. Still, for every melon that they stole, every chicken that they swiped, and every dog they accidentally knocked out, Jiang Fengmian would send people to compensate the losses incurred. 

So, there was no need for them to go around “stealing” in secret. It wasn’t like they were just lawless hooligans. They were kids looking for the thrill of the chase, indulging in the freedom of their youth.

The disciples boarded the boat and, after rowing for a while, arrived at one of the lotus ponds in the area.

The pond was a vast expanse of verdancy, layered with thick swathes of jade-green leaves, the smallest the size of dinner plates, and the largest the size of umbrellas. They were sparser around the perimeter of the pond, lying flat on its surface, but grew thicker as they progressed towards the center. The leaves pushed against each other in that space, forming a wall just large enough for the disciples to hide themselves behind as they rowed themselves in. 

Still, if anyone tried to look closer and noticed the disturbance of the leaves in the water, they’d know immediately that someone was up to no good.

They made their way further into this verdant expanse, surrounded by lotus pods on all sides. Seeing this, the disciples left one of their number behind to guard their boat, and began to make their move. 

The large, round lotus pods stood high on elegant stalks covered in small thorns that did not pierce the skin even as they were snapped, cut down with a single flick of the wrist. The stems were picked along with their heads, left long enough so that they could be stuck into vases, preserved for a few more days. Apparently, this was supposed to make the pods more tender and juicy when they were eaten later. Wei Wuxian didn’t know where he had heard this, or if it was even true, but he had repeated this advice nonetheless to anybody who would listen.

He looked over his pickings and plucked a few particularly ripe-looking seeds from them, tossing them into his mouth. The seeds were tender and juicy, and he hummed happily as he chewed on them.

“I’ll give you some lotus pods, what will you have for me…”

Jiang Cheng overheard his singing and looked at him. “Who are you giving them to?”

“Doesn’t matter!” Wei Wuxian said. “I just know they’re not for you!”

He was about to throw one of the pods at Jiang Cheng’s face when he was suddenly shushed. “Shit, the old man’s here today!”

The old man was the owner of the pond, the one who planted the lotuses in the first place. Wei Wuxian didn’t know exactly how old the owner was, but by his own standards, anyone who looked older than Uncle Jiang could be considered an old man. The old man had been the master of this pond for as long as Wei Wuxian could remember, always vigilant on hot summer days to give those who would steal from his territory a harsh beating. 

Wei Wuxian suspected the old man might be the reincarnation of a lotus spirit. After all, he knew the exact number of lotuses on his property probably better than he knew the back of his own hand, being able to tell exactly how many of his lotuses went missing, and would deal out the exact same amount of beatings in return.

In the lotus ponds, the old man’s bamboo stick was far more wieldy than their oars. Hurt more, too, when he used it to whack them.

The disciples all knew and understood the terror of getting hit by an angry old man with a stick. Fumbling with their oars, speaking in panicked whispers the entire time, the disciples made their hasty escape out of the ponds.

But when they finally got up the courage to look up, the old man’s boat had already emerged from the thick forest of lotus leaves, and was quickly gaining on them. Wei Wuxian squinted at his approaching figure and cocked his head. “Strange!”

Jiang Cheng stood up as well. “How is he so fast?”

Hearing their confusion, the other disciples looked back as well. The old man’s boat was loaded down with lotus pods, but he wasn’t using any effort to row himself along. In fact, his rowing stick was lying unused to the side. And yet his pace was both steady and fast, faster than the group of disciples could row.

This was too strange to ignore. Wei Wuxian motioned towards the boat. “Come on, let’s check this out.”

As they rowed closer to the old man, the disciples could finally see what was going on. Next to the old man’s boat was the fuzzy outline of a white shadow lurking under the water!

Wei Wuxian turned around, pointer finger pressed against his lips. They needed to be cautious to avoid startling the old man and the water ghoul. Jiang Cheng nodded in return, and they rowed soundlessly forward.

They were about three zhang away from the old man when they saw an ashy-pale hand reach up from the water to snatch one of the lotus pods in the back of the old man’s boat. The hand then disappeared into the water, as silently as it had emerged.

A few second later, two shells floated to the surface.

The disciples stared in shock. “Shit, even ghouls are stealing lotus pods now?!”

The old man finally noticed them and turned around immediately, his stick sweeping the water as he did so. This motion startled the water ghoul, and it disappeared, leaving not a trace of its pale shadow behind.

Now, the disciples were really in for it. Looking at each other in panic, they wondered, What the hell do we do now!?

Wei Wuxian delved into the water, towards the bottom. A moment later, he resurfaced, holding something in his hand. “Don’t worry, I got it!”

The thing in his hand was a small water ghoul, its appearance ashy and pale but looking like a child of about 12 or 13 years, frozen in terror, looking as though it was seconds away from curling up in fright under the disciples’ gazes.

At this disturbance, the old man’s stick came swinging their way. “You again!”

Wei Wuxian’s back was still recovering from the whip, and now it was struck again with the rod. He gasped at the pain, his grip on the ghoul almost loosening as he did so. Seeing this, Jiang Cheng turned to the old man.

“Use your words!” he fumed. “What are you doing, going around hitting people who are just trying to help? Our kindness is wasted on you!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” said Wei Wuxian placatingly. “Old… Sir, look closely. We aren’t ghouls, see? This one is.”

“I can see that!” said the old man. “I’m old, not blind! Now let it go already!”

Wei Wuxian jolted, and looked back down at the ghoul in his hands. Its demeanor was absolutely pitiful, the ghoul shaking badly, eyes brimming with tears, hands still clutching tightly to the lotus head it stole. It looked like it had only just cracked open the seeds, having not been able to taste them yet before it had been unceremoniously fished out of the water. 

Jiang Cheng frowned, and looked to Wei Wuxian. “Don’t listen to him. We should bring this thing back to Lotus Pier.”

Hearing this, the old man raised his stick again.

“No no no, no need to do that again!” Wei Wuxian said. “I’ll put it back down!”

“Don’t,” warned Jiang Cheng. “What if it ends up killing someone?”

“There’s no blood on this ghoul,” said Wei Wuxian. “I don’t think it’s ever left this pond. There’ve been no deaths in the area recently, so this one has probably never killed before.”

“Just because it’s never killed before doesn’t mean it won’t kill in the future…”

The smack of the stick interrupted Jiang Cheng’s sentence before it could reach its conclusion. Jiang Cheng whipped around, snarling. “What the fuck is wrong with you, old man? Don’t you know to be afraid of ghouls!?”

The old man’s temper did not balk. “I’m already a foot in the grave! What need do I have to be afraid?”

Deciding that the ghoul wouldn’t be able to go far even if it tried, Wei Wuxian made his decision. “Alright, alright, stop fighting, I’ll let go!”

True to his word, he let go. The ghoul landed with a splash and scurried behind the old man’s boat, as though afraid to come out.

Dripping wet, Wei Wuxian climbed back into his boat. 

The old man picked a lotus pod from his and threw it in the water. The ghoul ignored it.

The old man picked another one, larger, and threw it again into the water. On the surface of the water, the lotus pod bobbed.

Then a white head emerged suddenly from the surface, almost like a great white fish, and took both pods into the water. A moment later, a bit of white floated up once more, the ghoul’s shoulders and hands coming up this time as well. It slunk behind the boat and, ducking its head, began to munch on its spoils.

The juniors, looking upon the gusto with which it was eating, could not help but feel envious.

Seeing the old man throw another lotus pod into the water, Wei Wuxian stroked his chin, a little miffed. “Old man, why is it that when that thing steals your lotus pods, not only do you let it steal, you also give it a couple more to eat, but, when we do it, you only give us a beating?”

“It pushes the boat for me, what does it matter if I give it a few lotus pods in return?” The old man turned towards them. “You brats, how many did you steal today?”

Abashed silence.

Wei Wuxian snuck a look to his side and hurriedly shoveled a few dozen more into his boat, deciding to cut his losses. “Retreat!”

At this, the juniors immediately began to pick up their oars as the old man started their way, swinging his stick around wildly, his boat moving with the speed and smoothness of wind. Chills crawling up their spine, as though already feeling the weight of the stick against their heads, the juniors immediately sprang into action, rowing like mad. 

The two boats circled around the vast lotus pond twice, their pursuer gaining on them by the minute. Wei Wuxian, having already been struck multiple times, finally realized that the stick only struck at him and covered his head. “Not fair!” he yelled. “Why am I the only one getting hit! Why am I the only one getting hit!!!”

“We’re counting on you, shixiong!” the juniors called back. “It’s all up to you!”

“Right,” Jiang Cheng agreed. “It’s all up to you.”

“Pah!” Wei Wuxian spat, fuming. “I’m not dealing with this!”

Grabbing a lotus pod, he threw it into the water. “Catch this!”

The lotus pod he picked was a large one, splashing into the water with a thunk. As he thought, the old man’s boat halted. The ghoul merrily swam over to fish up the lotus pod.

This opportunity before them, Lotus Pier’s boat finally took advantage of it and made its escape.

On the way back, a junior disciple began to wonder. “Da-shixiong, can ghosts taste flavor?”

“Most can’t,” answered Wei Wuxian. “But, with that little ghoul, I think that- tha… achoo!”

The sun had set by now, bringing the wind in its wake. When it blew over them, a chill settled. Wei Wuxian sneezed and rubbed his face. “That little ghoul, it probably wanted to eat lotus pods when it was alive, but couldn’t, so it decided to sneak in here and steal a few but fell into the pond and drowned. So… a… ach…”

Jiang Cheng picked up his thought. “So it developed a fixation on lotus pods in death, and now eats them to satisfy that unfulfilled wish.”

“Yeah,” Wei Wuxian said. “That’s right.”

He smoothed a hand over the new wounds over his back, still stinging from the whip earlier that morning, and could not help voicing his thoughts. “This is truly unfair. Why is it that whenever something happens, I’m the only one who gets hit?”

“‘Cause you’re the most handsome,” answered a junior.

“You’re the best at cultivation,” another called.

“You look best without clothes,” came another.

The disciples all nodded in agreement.

“Thanks for the compliments,” Wei Wuxian said. “I get goosebumps hearing them.”

“You’re welcome, da-shixiong,” a junior answered. “Since you’re always taking the hits for us, you deserve even more!”

“Oh?” Wei Wuxian wondered. “You guys have more? Let’s hear it.”

Jiang Cheng, finally deciding he couldn’t take more of this shit, stepped in. “Everyone shut up! Keep saying nonsense like that and I’ll stick a hole through the bottom of this boat! I’ll take you all down with me!”

At this point, the boat passed through into another part of the water, surrounded by fields on either side. A few petite girls were working in the fields, and, when they saw the little boat approach, ran to the water, calling to them. “Ah—!”

The disciples said “Ah” in response, and began to nudge and shove at Wei Wuxian. “Shixiong, it’s for you! They’re calling for you!”

Wei Wuxian looked over. Indeed, these were the girls they’d once conversed with, with him leading the effort. The dark clouds clearing over his mood, he began to stand up and wave as well, beaming. “What is it!”

The boat floated along the current, the girls walking in pace along the shore, calling as they followed. “Have you guys gone stealing lotus pods again?”

“Quick, tell us how many times you got hit!”

“Or did you go drugging other people’s dogs again?”

Jiang Cheng heard their words and couldn’t resist kicking Wei Wuxian off the boat, wringing his hands in despair. “You complete disgrace. Look at your infamy, bringing shame to this family.”

“They said ‘you guys,’” Wei Wuxian argued. “We’re a team. If I’m bringing shame, then we’re doing it together.”

While the two continued to squabble, another girl called to them. “Were they good?”

Wei Wuxian momentarily excused himself from the fight. “What?”

“The watermelons we sent!” she said. “Were they good?”

The realization finally hit Wei Wuxian. “So you were the ones who sent the melons over!” he said. “They were really good! Why didn’t you bring them yourselves, we could’ve invited you in for tea!”

The girl laughed sweetly. “You guys weren’t there when we sent them over. We didn’t dare stay long, so we left after we handed them over. I’m just glad you liked them!”

“Thank you!” Wei Wuxian fished a few large lotus pods from the boat and grinned. “I’ll treat you to some lotus pods, so come watch me train next time, I’ll show you my sword forms!”

From beside him, Jiang Cheng scoffed. “Are your sword forms anything to look at?”

Wei Wuxian continued to throw lotus pods towards the shore. Though he threw them from a distance, they landed lightly in the girls’ hands. Pushing a few into Jiang Cheng’s hands, he gave him a shove. “What are you doing, just standing there? Hurry up.”

Shoved twice, Jiang Cheng could only accept the lotus pods. “What?”

“You ate the melons too, it’s time to pay them back,” Wei Wuxian explained. “Come on, don’t be shy, go throw some over! Throw some over!”

Jiang Cheng sneered. “Don’t be stupid, what do I have to be shy for.”

But, though he said it like that, even as the other disciples began to throw lotus pods without abandon to the shore, only he stood, unmoving.

“Then throw some over,” Wei Wuxian said. “If you throw some over, next time we see them, you can ask them if they liked the lotus pods to start a conversation again!”

“Oh, so that’s why!” the disciples exclaimed. “Thank you for the lesson, shixiong really is an old master!”

“Look at him, you can tell he does this all the time!”

“What, no way, hahaha……”

Though Jiang Cheng had already picked up a lotus pod and was preparing to throw it, these words cleared his mind. Suddenly aware of how embarrassing this was, he sat back down, peeled open the lotus pod, and began to eat.

The boat continued to float along in the water, the girls continued to walk leisurely along with it, catching the lotus pods thrown intermittently from the boat, laughing as they went along. Wei Wuxian propped his head up with his right hand, looked at this scene, and smiled with a sigh.

The other disciples looked at him.

“What wrong, da-shixiong?”

“You’ve got all these girls chasing after you, what are you sighing for?”

Wei Wuxian hefted his oar on his shoulder and huffed. “Nothing. I’m just thinking about how I so earnestly asked Lan Zhan to come play in Yunmeng, and he actually rejected me.”

The juniors stuck their thumbs up. “Wow, that’s Lan Wangji for you!”

“Shut up! I swear, I’ll drag him over here one day,” Wei Wuxian declared. “I’ll kick him off a boat, I’ll trick him into stealing lotus pods. I’ll get the old man to hit him too, and then I’ll make him run after me, hahahaha……”

He laughed, and turned around. Seeing Jiang Cheng sitting sullenly at the back, eating lotus pods alone, his smile faded.

“Ah,” he sighed. “Some people can’t be taught.”

“What?” Jiang Cheng said, angered. “I wanted to eat by myself, what of it?”

“Oh, Jiang Cheng,” said Wei Wuxian. “Whatever, you’re hopeless. Spend the rest of your life eating by yourself then!”

And so, the thieving little boat, piled up high with loot, returned once more to Lotus Pier.

[omgkatsudonplease]

恭喜发财! How would the first meeting with A-Yuan and WWX play out? Is WWX the rich one now?

well, wwx is only as rich as jiang cheng lets him be ahahaha

Wei Wuxian’s probably the only person in the world who could ever say this without irony, but: he loves visiting Yiling.

He doesn’t go as many times as he would have liked, especially given the political tensions that the Incident at Qiongqi Way had incited. Jiang Cheng, in particular, would throw his hands up in exasperation whenever Wei Wuxian expressed a desire to check up on Lan Wangji, reminding him in no uncertain terms that the senior disciple of the Yunmeng Jiang sect sneaking off to visit the man responsible for killing the camp guards at Qiongqi could potentially put their shijie’s impending nuptials in danger. 

Wei Wuxian just changes his clothes and goes anyway. It’s not like Jiang Cheng can stop him.

He mostly goes at sundown, when Lan Wangji is more likely to be spotted out and about. Years of hiding in the shadows has now completely ruined Lan Wangji’s previous 5 to 9 sleeping schedule; he now lives as nocturnally as possible, moving with the shadows and the corpses he commands. For Wei Wuxian, though, arriving at sundown means plenty of dark cover for him to slip back to Lotus Pier in.

It also means the possibility of staying for dinner with the remnants of the Wen sect, particularly their delightful little boy, Wen Yuan. 

Wei Wuxian doesn’t exactly remember when he first met A-Yuan, but he does know that the boy simply won’t let him go. It takes considerable amounts of bribing with sweets from the other family members just to get A-Yuan to let go of his leg at the end of the night. He’s threatened to take A-Yuan back to Lotus Pier with him on several occasions, but somehow that only gets the boy to cling harder, insisting he wants to see “Wuxian-shushu’s big palace”. 

“It’s not my palace,” Wei Wuxian would tell him. “It’s my shidi’s. But you’re welcome to come and play, whenever you like!”

It’s an empty promise, and all the adults know it. Yiling is the land of the forgotten, of the abandoned. Wei Wuxian inviting a Wen remnant to Lotus Pier could have terrible political consequences, no matter how young or undeserving of the Qiongqi concentration camps they had been. 

(If it were up to Wei Wuxian, he’d have stormed Koi Towers himself. The children of the Wen sect did not deserve to be locked in cages, no matter the sins of their elders.)

This sundown is no different. A-Yuan comes to greet him almost as soon as Suibian lands, in the midst of a tall grove of lantern-lit trees. Under Lan Wangji’s strict but fair rule, the Yiling settlement has actually blossomed into something approaching civilisation. The ground is difficult to till with all the resentful energy brewing below the surface, but somehow Lan Wangji has managed it. 

Wei Wuxian isn’t that surprised. Lan Wangji had helped him reform his golden core, after all. Turning a hillside of graves into an actual habitable settlement would be child’s play in comparison. 

“Wuxian-shushu! Wuxian-shushu! Did you bring any more sweets?” A-Yuan asks, looking up from where he’s now hugging Wei Wuxian’s midsection. Wei Wuxian ruffles his hair, gently prising himself from the little boy so he can head up the path towards the settlement itself. 

“Glad to hear I’m just wanted for my presents,” he says, but he takes out a carefully-wrapped box anyway, handing it to A-Yuan. The boy unwraps it, his eyes lighting up at the little tufts of candy floss within. 

“What is it?” he asks, looking up at Wei Wuxian. 

“Dragon’s beard candy,” says Wei Wuxian. “The chefs at Lanling and my shijie are preparing the wedding feast menu and they made too much of this! So I thought I’d sneak you some. Have you never had it before?”

A-Yuan pops one into his mouth, and his eyes light up. “Wow! It disappears on my tongue, look!” And he sticks out his tongue at Wei Wuxian, who laughs. 

“Don’t go eating all of them, A-Yuan,” he chides. “You need to save some for all the grown-ups, too. I bet some of them haven’t had it in a very long time, if ever.” Lan Wangji probably has never had it, given how bland the food at the Cloud Recesses had been. There probably was even a rule against food with very high sugar content, just like this candy.

Together, they follow the lanterns to the settlement itself. Every little house is plain but tidy, with lanterns hanging in the nearby trees and protection talismans on every door. People’s heads poke out of windows and doorways to greet them as they walk by; A-Yuan gives all of the older folks dabs of his new sugary treat. 

“Ningning-shushu!” he calls, upon reaching the house closest to the path leading up to the cave at the top of the mountain where Lan Wangji resided. Wen Ning, who had been raking fallen leaves out of the path ahead, pauses to greet the little boy. 

“A-Yuan, did Wuxian-shushu give you something new?” he asks. A-Yuan holds out the box of candy, and Wen Ning takes one with a hum of happiness. “It tastes delicious, A-Yuan, thank you!”

“Is Lan Zhan here?” asks Wei Wuxian. Wen Ning nods towards the mountain path, a slight shadow flitting over his handsome features. 

Wei Wuxian remembers how the story goes. Wen Ning had just escaped the Qiongqi concentration camp when he ran into Lan Wangji, who had listened to his story and his desperate search for his sister Wen Qing and decided to help him find her. But the guards of the concentration camp had believed they killed no one, for those who bore the last name Wen did not count as people to them. 

That, and there had been a terrible outbreak of typhus fever, so that not even those who were not sentenced to manual labour were spared the possibility of death. Wen Qing, as a medic on the front line, had been one of the first to die. 

It really was no wonder that Lan Wangji might have gone overboard in freeing the prisoners of the camp. Even as Hanguang-jun, he had always gone where the chaos was, with the intention of helping others. It just so happens this time, the chaos happened to be a form of genocide. Lan Wangji was restoring justice, and even in the Gusu Lan sect justice sometimes could mean a life for a life. 

But now Lan Wangji spent his days holed up in his cave, desperately trying to find a way to restore Wen Qing to some form of consciousness. Wei Wuxian had seen her lying motionless on a slab in the workshop corner of the cave, talismans placed over her qi points to calm her spirit. In both life and death, she was fierce.

“Here, A-Yuan, go with Ningning-shushu,” says Wei Wuxian, pushing the boy towards him. “I’m going to go visit Wangji-shushu.”

“Wanna come,” says A-Yuan.

“I don’t think that’s a great idea,” says Wei Wuxian, shoving him a little harder towards Wen Ning, who laughs sheepishly and takes A-Yuan by the hand.

“Yes, come on, you can come help me and Uncle Four and Granny prepare something to eat, okay? The crops this year are looking good, hopefully they’ll taste just as good...”

[bloody-bee-tea]

An ally

This follows directly after Hearsay

Lan Xichen is reading over the report of the first day of the Cultivator Conference when the door to the hanshi slides open.

He doesn’t get many visitors, seeing as he’s still in seclusion, so that only leaves two options. And since he didn’t hear Wei Wuxian in the garden, it’s more likely that it’s Lan Qiren instead of his brother.

Lan Xichen finds that he’s right when he puts the report down and raises his head, but when he tries to stand up to bow to Lan Qiren, he winks him off.

“Don’t stand on ceremony, today, Xichen,” Lan Qiren tells him. “I’m here as your uncle.”

“Shufu,” Lan Xichen greets him then, still bowing his head because even if he’s not here as the acting Sect Leader, he is Lan Xichen’s elder.

When Lan Qiren sits down, Lan Xichen gets up to prepare tea for the both of them, and Lan Qiren waits silently until Lan Xichen is sitting down opposite of him again.

“What is wrong, shufu?” Lan Xichen asks, because it has never happened that Lan Qiren opens a conversation with insisting on doing it as family.

“You had frequent dealings with Yunmeng Jiang in the past,” Lan Qiren starts, stroking his beard in thought and dread settles in Lan Xichen’s gut.

“Has something happened?” he wants to know, hands tightening on his cup. “Is there a problem?”

He hopes not; he is glad they have Jiang Cheng as an ally, if not friend, and if something should jeopardize that relationship Lan Xichen would have to act.

“Nothing of the sort you are thinking,” Lan Qiren reassures him before he winces slightly. “But if Wangji keeps it up, we might have a problem on our hands sooner rather than later.”

“What is going on, shufu?” Lan Xichen asks again, now almost burning with the need to know what has his uncle all worried.

“Jiang Wanyin brought his right hand man,” Lan Qiren says, catching Lan Xichen by surprise and his eyes go wide. “Jiang Xiuying, is his name, I believe.”

“Yes,” Lan Xichen carefully says, unsure what his uncle is leading up to.

And Lan Xichen will not give that secret away carelessly.

“I have never seen him in the Cloud Recesses before,” Lan Qiren muses and Lan Xichen ducks his head.

“I believe there were events preventing him from coming before,” Lan Xichen diplomatically says. “I have met him during other Conferences though.”

“I thought so,” Lan Qiren says and then he sighs. “Remember, Xichen, I’m here as family,” Lan Qiren reiterates and he only goes on when Lan Xichen nods.

“He’s Lan Zhi, is he not?”

Lan Xichen presses his lips together. So his uncle recognized him. Lan Xichen wonders who else recognized the right hand of the Yunmeng Leader, and he hopes there aren’t too many.

“I believe so, yes,” Lan Xichen whispers, aware that he must give an answer and he just hopes that he didn’t bring more grief to Jiang Cheng and Jiang Xiuying.

“You knew,” Lan Qiren states, and Lan Xichen looks out of the window. “I barely recognized him; he was barely more than a boy when he left, worn down by resentment and anger, burdened by rules he couldn’t follow. He looks good now. Healthy and happy.”

“Why is he here?” Lan Xichen asks in turn, unwilling to confirm that he has known who Jiang Xiuying is for a long time but he silently has to agree with Lan Qiren’s assessment.

Jiang Xiuying has flourished at Jiang Cheng’s side.

“He always found reasons not to come,” Lan Xichen goes on when Lan Qiren has been quiet for too long. “Why is he here now?”

“Sect Leader Yao brought the matter of his missing right hand man to Wangji a few weeks back,” Lan Qiren says and Lan Xichen frowns.

“I haven’t heard about this.”

“It happened ten years ago,” Lan Qiren says and his tone alone makes it clear what he thinks of Sect Leader Yao’s accusations at this point. “He blames Jiang Wanyin.”

“Of course he would,” Lan Xichen breathes out and lightly shakes his head. “What did Wangji say?”

“He rightfully said he couldn’t apprehend Jiang Wanyin on mere hearsay of a thing that happened so long ago. It didn’t stop Sect Leader Yao from marching into Lotus Pier and demanding justice.”

“I take it he gathered quite the following?” Lan Xichen wants to know and he sighs when Lan Qiren nods.

“So Jiang Xiuying is here because he’s worried for his Sect Leader.”

“I believe so, yes,” Lan Qiren agrees and then his shoulders fall, just the slightest bit, but from Lan Qiren it’s almost as if he’s slouching. “Tell me what happened,” he whispers and Lan Xichen takes a deep breath before he nods.

“But this is not your secret to tell,” he reminds Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen only goes on when he nods. “You saw what became of Lan Zhi here. He couldn’t adhere to the rules and he thought he couldn’t leave. When he found the scripts Wangji kept of Wei Wuxian it only got worse.”

“So he did practice demonic cultivation,” Lan Qiren mutters and Lan Xichen shrugs.

“He left before he did something unforgivable with it, if you remember, and he vanished into the woods. Jiang Cheng was seen in the same area only days later. When I visited him a month after Lan Zhi vanished, Jiang Cheng had gained a new disciple. One who kept to the back and made sure to never really look at me.”

“You recognized him anyway,” Lan Qiren says and Lan Xichen nods.

“They clearly wanted to keep it a secret; Jiang Cheng drew my attention away from him more than once and made sure to let me know his name. His new name. I never mentioned it.”

“Does Jiang Wanyin know that you have been keeping his secret?”

“I’m not sure. I think he suspects.”

“Is he doing this often?” Lan Qiren wants to know, clearly thinking to all the rumoured killings that float around.

“I believe so,” Lan Xichen gives back and at Lan Qiren’s incredulous look he shrugs. “Think about it, shufu. He built his sect up from nothing. There were no disciples left. And yet there is no denying that Yunmeng Jiang is the strongest of the Four Great Sects. Where do you think he gets his people?”

“He is giving them shelter,” Lan Qiren says in understanding but Lan Xichen shakes his head.

“He’s giving them a home. I paid attention after I saw Jiang Xiuying for the first time. Whenever there is a rumour about a demonic cultivator Jiang Cheng shows up a few days later, yes. But what no one seems to have realized is that a few days, weeks, sometimes even months later a new disciple shows up in his sect seemingly out of nowhere.”

“Sect Leader Yao’s right hand man?”

“I would bet Liebing on the fact that he’s with Jiang Cheng,” Lan Xichen says with a small smile and without hesitation. “He has a habit of picking up strays, of helping them.”

“Have you been helping him?” Lan Qiren suddenly asks, voice sharp and Lan Xichen flushes.

“I don’t think you could call it that,” he waves off. “I listen to the rumours. And then I make sure they reach Lotus Pier.”

“Are you in correspondence with him?”

“No,” Lan Xichen quickly says and fiddles with the hem of his robe. “But not all disciples refuse to gossip. There are a few who are especially prone to breaking that rule. If they find themselves on more night hunts in the Yunmeng area, that’s neither here nor there,” Lan Xichen admits with a sheepish smile and Lan Qiren stares him down before he gives him a tiny nod.

“You have done well, Xichen,” he tells him, but Lan Xichen is quick to shake his head.

“Jiang Cheng is the one who is doing well. He’s doing right by all the people we wronged,” Lan Xichen says. “And he doesn’t want anyone to know, so please never bring it up,” he is quick to tack on and Lan Qiren strokes his beard again.

“With how things are going, he’ll have to let people know eventually,” he mutters and he only explains himself when Lan Xichen shoots him a worried look. “Wangji and Wei Wuxian accused him of another murder today. Sect Leader Yao’s march into Lotus Pier has brought the issue to new attention to everyone, and Jiang Wanyin is being scrutinized now. One wrong step and Wangji will act on his believes.”

“But Jiang Cheng did nothing!”

“And yet he is unwilling to explain,” Lan Qiren calmly gives back. “I understand that the well-being of his people is at stake, but he might have to tell the truth eventually.”

“He will fight it. He would rather die than let harm come to his people.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Lan Qiren gravely says and Lan Xichen can only whole-heartedly agree.

But before it comes to that, he will speak out in favour of Jiang Cheng, if he wants the truth to be known or not.

~*~*~

“Sect Leader Lan is inviting us for dinner,” Jiang Xiuying quietly says when he steps into Jiang Cheng’s room and he is unnaturally pale.

Jiang Cheng wants to send him home immediately, but he knows Jiang Xiuying would never leave.

“What does the old goat want now?” Jiang Cheng grumbles, but he remembers the scrutinizing look he gave Jiang Xiuying all too well, and Jiang Cheng can guess what he wants.

“No,” Jiang Xiuying says with a shake of his head. “Lan Xichen,” he explains then and some of the tension leaves Jiang Cheng’s body.

“Ah,” he gives back but then shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter, I will tell him you are indisposed.”

“You will not,” Jiang Xiuying gives back, his voice hard. “I will accompany you. I am done running from my past.”

“Xiuying,” Jiang Cheng still tries, simply because he cannot help himself.

It’s his job to shield his people from the past.

“Don’t even try it,” Jiang Xiuying tells him and Jiang Cheng grits his teeth. “I know you think it’s your job to protect us, but it is our job to protect you. And I will not let you go to that meeting alone.”

“Lan Xichen is hardly a threat. Isn’t he still in seclusion?” Jiang Cheng tries to downplay it, but Jiang Xiuying only narrows his eyes at him.

“He is. Which makes this even more worrying. You’re not getting me out of this, so stop trying.”

“Who is the Sect Leader between us?” Jiang Cheng asks, even though he knows he has lost that fight.

Jiang Xiuying can out-stubborn anyone if he wants to, and clearly today he wants to.

“I ask myself the same question almost daily,” Jiang Xiuying gives back with a biting smile, but then he softens. “You know I appreciate everything you do for me,” he says and Jiang Cheng throws his hands in the air.

“It’s not like you’re letting me do much, lately,” he snipes back but he deflates when Jiang Xiuying simply stares at him. “I just don’t want you to force yourself to face them,” Jiang Cheng finally says and Jiang Xiuying smiles at him.

“I’m not forcing myself. I am going on my own free will. It will be fine. And besides, Lan Xichen was never the reason I left.”

“But he didn’t stop you either,” Jiang Cheng mutters, and then rolls his eyes. “Fine. Accompany me, see if I care.”

“All I see is you caring,” Jiang Xiuying honestly gives back and Jiang Cheng flushes bright red.

“Shut up,” he snarls and Jiang Xiuying gives him a bright smile.

“I think it’s time to leave now, if we want to make it in time,” he pleasantly gives back, as if he didn’t just almost kill Jiang Cheng and Jiang Cheng wonders what he ever did to deserve a right hand man like this.

Even in his own head it doesn’t sound as biting and mean as he wanted it to.

A disciple is already waiting for them when they step out of Jiang Cheng’s room, and he quickly leads them towards a secluded house, far off the main part of the Cloud Recesses.

“It’s the hanshi,” Jiang Xiuying mutters when the house comes into view. “Lan Xichen’s personal quarters.”

“We really shouldn’t be here,” Jiang Cheng mutters back, but by then they are already at the door and Jiang Cheng raises his chin and straightens his shoulders.

Jiang Xiuying chuckles at his attempt to shield him from Lan Xichen, but of course his eyes immediately fall on Jiang Xiuying the moment he opens the door.

“I’m glad to see you here,” Lan Xichen says, his eyes now firmly on Jiang Cheng as he lets them into the hanshi.

“I have to be honest, it was a surprise, getting the invitation,” Jiang Cheng honestly says and Lan Xichen gives him a small smile.

“A pleasant one, I hope.”

“That remains to be seen,” Jiang Cheng gives back, and sends Lan Xichen a sharp glare, much to Jiang Xiuying’s displeasure it seems.

“It’s a great honour, Sect Leader Lan,” he says with a small bow and Jiang Cheng itches to move in front of him when Lan Xichen’s eyes fall on him again.

Jiang Cheng logically knows that it’s probably too late to protect Jiang Xiuying’s true identity; he’s aware that Lan Xichen recognized him a long time ago, but Jiang Cheng can’t help himself.

“Please, sit,” Lan Xichen softly says, pointing at the already prepared dinner and Jiang Cheng and Jiang Xiuying sit down without a word.

Jiang Cheng is tense, just waiting for the other shoe to drop, and indeed it doesn’t take all that long.

Lan Xichen doesn’t even reach for his rice, before he turns serious eyes on Jiang Xiuying and Jiang Cheng itches with the need to bring Lan Xichen’s focus back to him.

“My uncle has recognized you,” Lan Xichen says without preamble and Jiang Cheng sucks in a sharp breath, while Jiang Xiuying simply smiles at Lan Xichen.

“I thought so,” he easily says, and Jiang Cheng doesn’t understand where he finds the calmness to do so.

“You know who he is, too,” Jiang Cheng hisses and Zidian sparks on his finger.

Lan Xichen barely takes his eyes off Jiang Xiuying and it only makes Jiang Cheng more furious.

“I won’t do you the disservice of uttering the name you have left behind, but I know you weren’t always named Jiang Xiuying,” Lan Xichen says, pleasant as ever, and Jiang Cheng stands up.

“Who have you told,” Jiang Cheng demands to know, and is strangely satisfied when Lan Xichen turns towards him, while Jiang Xiuying tries to get him to sit down again.

“No one,” Lan Xichen is quick to reassure them. “And my uncle won’t either, for as long as you don’t want to.”

“Right,” Jiang Cheng scoffs, but Lan Xichen holds his gaze and there is nothing but honesty in his gaze.

“I promise you, there will come no harm to you or your people by my uncle’s or my hands,” Lan Xichen promises him and Jiang Cheng works his jaw a few times, before he abruptly sits down again.

“There better not,” he threatens Lan Xichen, who takes it with a graceful nod of his head and then his eyes turn back to Jiang Xiuying.

“I will forever regret that the Cloud Recesses couldn’t give you what you needed, but I am glad you found a home.”

“The home found me,” Jiang Xiuying says with a small smile to Jiang Cheng and then bows at Lan Xichen. “It was never your leadership that made me turn to darker paths,” Jiang Xiuying whispers then, but Lan Xichen only smiles sadly at him.

“But it also wasn’t my leadership that brought you confidence,” he replies. “I am sorry I failed you.”

Jiang Cheng has to admit that Lan Xichen just gained a couple of points with him, rising in his regard for being able to openly admit to his mistakes and he is no longer surprised when Jiang Xiuying smiles at Lan Xichen.

“I don’t hold a grudge,” Jiang Xiuying promises and then his smile turns sly. “And I’m guessing we have you to thank for a lot of saved souls.”

It’s almost funny to see Lan Xichen’s ears flush at that and Jiang Cheng sighs.

“So you really have been sending the most gossiping bunch of your people to joint night hunts,” he remarks as he picks up his tea and Lan Xichen shrugs, still visibly flustered.

“I had to help somehow,” Lan Xichen mutters into his own tea, but then he raises his head again. “Please, just know, that whatever Wangji is doing, he’s doing in his position as Chief Cultivator. There are no ties to this sect. If it is ever needed, if they should take action against you, Gusu Lan will stand with you,” Lan Xichen firmly states.

Jiang Cheng hadn’t known what open support would mean to him, but he can’t deny that his eyes burn a little bit at Lan Xichen’s words and that his breath comes a little bit quicker than it should. To know that someone besides his family knows and supports him, means more than Jiang Cheng could ever have imagined.

“Thank you, Sect Leader Lan,” Jiang Xiuying says when it becomes apparent that Jiang Cheng won’t find his words for a short while yet and Lan Xichen smiles brightly at them.

“Now, with business out of the way, let us enjoy this meal,” Lan Xichen says and pushes the closest dish towards Jiang Cheng. “I invited you for dinner after all.”

“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng says as he accepts the dish and going by the knowing look Lan Xichen gives him, he knows that it’s not just for the food.

Dinner, after that, is pleasant and quick and it’s not long before Jiang Cheng and Jiang Xiuying leave the hanshi again.

They walk in silence, right until they step into Jiang Cheng’s room.

“You think we can trust his word?” Jiang Cheng can’t help but to ask, because he still needs to be cautious.

“Yes,” Jiang Xiuying gives back without hesitation. “If he says he stands with us, then he does.”

“You’re awfully quick to trust him, when he’s one of the reasons you left,” Jiang Cheng mutters but Jiang Xiuying shakes his head.

“That’s not quite true, though. His inaction didn’t give me a reason to stay,” he corrects Jiang Cheng. “And Lan Qiren was too much of an influence on him back then. He was younger back then, too,” Jiang Xiuying reminds Jiang Cheng, who sighs at his words.

“I know that,” Jiang Cheng says and then works his jaw a few times, because the words just won’t come.

“But you can’t help but to feel overprotective, I get it,” Jiang Xiuying fills in for him. “And I thank you for it, but it’s long in the past now. I have more happy memories with you and my fellow disciples than I ever had bad ones in this place,” Jiang Xiuying reassures him and Jiang Cheng breathes easier knowing that.

“And I also know that if something were to happen, you’d be there.”

“Always,” Jiang Cheng immediately promises him, because no matter just how well everyone in Lotus Pier heals up, he can never shake the instinct to protect them from everything.

“And we love you all for it,” Jiang Xiuying says, a teasing glint in his eyes and Jiang Cheng huffs at him.

“And the evening is done, good night now,” he courtly says, turning his back to Jiang Xiuying.

“One day, we’ll get you to accept our love and gratitude,” he says and then he presumably bows.

Jiang Cheng is not going to turn around to confirm that.

“Good luck trying,” he mutters, and he is left alone with the soft chuckles of his right hand still in the air.

Jiang Cheng sleeps easy that night.

Next part

{Buy me a kofi}  

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: the thing with feathers, ch. 8

Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn & Yú Zǐyuān, Jiāng Fēngmián & Yú Zǐyuān, Jiāng Yànlí & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Fēngmián & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Qǐrén & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn

Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Yú Zǐyuān, Yínzhū, Jīnzhū, Lán Jǐngyí, Jiāng Fēngmián, Jiāng Yànlí, Lán Qǐrén, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén

Additional Tags: Transmigration, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Crying, Music, Nosebleed, Fear, Recovery, Nightmares, sharing a bed

Summary: A routine is established as Wei Ying recovers.

Notes: See end.

AO3 link

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

-------------------

Wei Ying was as flabbergasted as WangJi upon learning his sword was named Suibian, but then he laughed.

“I guess I couldn’t come up with a name,” he said with a shrug. 

This was later confirmed by Jiang FengMian, who told them Wei Ying had agonized over a name, creating lists for weeks, and when it came time he was so frustrated he had said, ‘Just name it whatever.’

“And so, I did. You laughed and laughed when you saw that, a-Ying.”

Apparently, Sect Leader Jiang had an odd sense of humor, one Wei Ying seemed to share.

“Just think,” Wei Ying said to WangJi later. “Cultivators will ask my sword’s name and when I say Suibian it’ll be fun to see their faces.”

WangJi thought it disrespectful toward a spiritual weapon to name it thus, but Wei Ying treated his sword with courtesy, taking care to tend and polish it regularly, even though he couldn’t train with it until he recovered further. 

He showed Wei Ying Bichen, and was pleased when his sword was complimented as being beautiful.

“Your sheath has silver patterns, like mine,” Wei Ying pointed out, seemingly tickled by the similarity. “Maybe we can spar when I’m better.”

The suggestion pleased WangJi, who had found as the Second Jade of Lan few people wished to partner with him to spar at Cloud Recesses.

The days settled into a sort of routine. In the mornings, shufu gave WangJi and XiChen lessons while healing music was played for Wei Ying. Often, he was asleep for much of it, still healing from his ordeal. The Jiang sect seemed to rise later than mao shi anyway. The healers always brought all of them a meal of congee when Wei Ying woke.

Wei Ying’s clothing had been brought from his room, and he was encouraged to dress after he’d eaten. Rather than wearing the blues and purples of the Jiang sect, many of his outfits had red and black as the primary hues.

“They were the colors your mother favored, and your father wore them when they became rogue cultivators together,” Jiang FengMian said when Wei Ying asked. “Your mother liked to wear a red ribbon in her hair. I thought you might prefer to dress in their colors.”

WangJi wondered if Wei Ying had retained any memories of his parents, but he didn’t ask. His face had gone thoughtful and sad at the sect leader’s words, his fingers touching the red ribbon that tied off his braid.

Once Wei Ying was awake and alert, he listened to the lessons enough to ask questions. At times, it seemed he had lost the memories associated with the information shufu was covering, assuming he had learned it to begin with, and asked the sorts of questions a complete novice might ask. At other times, his questions were pertinent, revealing a sharp mind and someone who had begun to learn the six arts and was excelling. 

WangJi was relieved when shufu patiently answered Wei Ying’s questions; during the argument with Sect Leader Jiang, it had seemed like he might decide to judge the boy harshly. He was glad that wasn’t happening. Shufu even treated him like a student, insisting Wei Ying take notes, which he did with a shaky hand that grew stronger, his calligraphy less messy as the days passed. An altered writing desk was brought for him to use without the need to get out of bed while he recovered. Eventually, he was able to start joining them at the table for lessons, his stamina recovering enough to allow him to sit without support for longer periods of time.

During the time between lessons and lunch, WangJi often practiced sword forms empty-handed in the empty space between their beds. The space was sparse, but that merely added obstacles for him to work with. Wei Ying watched or painted. He once tried to write a list of what he had remembered since waking, but became frustrated early in.

“It’s hard to remember what I already remembered and what I remembered later,” he said with a dramatic sigh, flopping back on his pillow.

“What matters is that you are starting to remember, Wei Ying,” WangJi told him, and was rewarded with a smile and a sunnier mood.

After lunch, which WangJi usually enjoyed in the infirmary with Wei Ying and sometimes Jiang YanLi, Jiang Cheng, and xiongzhang, the healers had a routine for Wei Ying to regain his strength. Much of it involved swimming, which the Jiang Sect healer insisted would help him rebuild his muscles more quickly. 

WangJi had listened with interest as the healer explained this to Jiang YanLi, discussing the added resistance of the water, as well as the ambient pressure compared to air. He learned from this that one should not swim too soon after eating. 

Sect Leader Jiang petitioned shufu, arguing the importance of proficiency in swimming for night hunts, and so WangJi and XiChen often joined Wei Ying in a pond devoid of lotus for the purpose of improving their skills. 

He was not particularly fond of the requirement that they strip to trousers, but they were told their heavy robes would only hinder their ability to improve, so he endured it.

Wei Ying seemed to have more energy in water, not requiring the help he sometimes needed on land. He was graceful and swift in the water, having remembered the skill very quickly. And although he tired quickly, he was adept at floating with minimal energy output, something WangJi had difficulty picking up. 

“Jiang Cheng says it’s because I’m full of hot air,” he chirped when WangJi mentioned it, then cheered at having remembered something new.

When Jiang Cheng occasionally joined them—a rare occurrence as he was often practicing sword forms or archery—he and Wei Ying occasionally devolved into splash fights. WangJi didn’t see the appeal, but they made Wei Ying smile and laugh.

By the time swim lessons and Wei Ying’s water therapy were over, the boy was often so exhausted he required a nap.

WangJi played the guqin for him as he fell asleep, and then practiced various pieces until Wei Ying woke, usually half a shichen to a full shichen later. 

Wei Ying often woke hungry, and WangJi found he usually was as well, likely from the exercise of swimming. They quickly worked through what remained of the gifts from the townspeople, but Jiang YanLi anticipated their need for a small afternoon repast, and brought various treats each day for them to enjoy. Some she modified for WangJi’s Gusu palate, as they discovered he could only handle a fraction of the spice used in Yunmeng, and far less than Wei Ying enjoyed. 

Jiang YanLi also brought music books from the Lotus Cove library at their request, ones for both the guqin and the dizi. WangJi discovered then that Wei Ying couldn’t read music—whether he had forgotten how as a result of the attack and his illness or had learned by hearing and experimentation, he didn’t know. 

So WangJi took it upon himself to teach him. Shufu walked in on his lessons once, and simply nodded approvingly, watching them work together for a while before leaving them to it. At the start, these lessons occurred on Wei Ying’s bed, but they were eventually able to shift to the table.

Wei Ying was a quick learner, and before long they discovered music they could play together. WangJi found that he enjoyed playing with Wei Ying as much as he did XiChen. A few times XiChen joined them, adding the more sedate tones of the xiao to the mix, but more often he left them to play together. Sometimes they played at the table. Other times, if he was particularly tired, Wei Ying was propped against pillows on his bed, and WangJi sat on the foot of the bed with his guqin. There was ample room, as the bed was meant for an adult.

XiChen, he learned, was helping shufu teach Jiang YanLi how to read music for the konghou so she could learn musical cultivation. Sect Leader Jiang had commissioned an instrument from a renowned local luthier, one that would befit young maiden Jiang’s station, and had in the meantime procured one more suited for a beginner for her to start learning. Once she had the commissioned instrument, she would name it and begin imbuing it with spiritual energy as he did WangJi and xiongzhang did LieBing.

WangJi wondered if perhaps he should ask Sect Leader Jiang or shufu if Wei Ying should also get a dizi that could become a spiritual instrument, as opposed to the child’s dizi he played now. Wei Ying played well, and musical cultivation would also suit him.

But WangJi hesitated to ask; while Madam Yu was clearly making an effort to be kind to Wei Ying, she had a tendency to compare him and Jiang Cheng, even with Wei Ying in the infirmary. 

They were little comments, but he could see the way they made Wei Ying cringe, how Jiang Cheng was surly afterward.

One day, she entered while Jiang Cheng was listening to them play during a break in training, and chided him for not learning to play an instrument.

Wei Ying took it upon himself to comfort the younger boy—he insisted on calling him Cheng-ge, claiming he was now younger because he’d lost his memories, a logic WangJi didn’t understand. 

“I bet you’d be great at the paixiao or the hulusi. Or if you want to try a stringed instrument, the ehru might be fun? Just not the sheng. Those sound weird.”

Jiang Cheng sighed. “Is it so bad if I don’t want to learn an instrument? I like listening, but I’m not interested in playing. A-Niang eventually plans to give me zidian, so I’ll need to learn to use a whip, anyway. Why an instrument, too? I’ve only got two hands!”

His disinterest in learning an instrument was a bit shocking to WangJi, for whom it had never been a choice, but Wei Ying took it in stride.

“You don’t have to learn just because shijie and I are, Cheng-ge. Just tell shenshen you’d rather start training with whips, then. I bet she’ll be happy about that and forget about the music. You’ll just have to train with her instead of listening to us or shijie play.”

The idea immediately cheered Jiang Cheng, and Madam Yu was pleased when he told her that night at dinner that instead of an instrument, he would like her to train him to wield a whip. She agreed readily, clearly happy he had taken an interest in her fighting style.

Every evening, one of the healers or assistant healers would help Wei Ying to the pavilion to eat with the Jiangs. As honored guests, shufu, WangJi, XiChen, and the other visiting Lans ate with them as well. 

Meals were different at Lotus Pier, with conversation taking place as they ate. Discussion of the events of the day: Jiang YanLi’s studies, Jiang Cheng’s training, Wei Ying’s recovery—often including recovered bits of memory. 

Dinner at Lotus Pier was a family time, and sometimes featured play arguments between Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying, mediated by Jiang YanLi as Jiang FengMian smiled indulgently and Madam Yu rolled her eyes and scoffed in mock-irritation. 

Shufu, WangJi knew, wanted them to adhere to the principles, and so the Lans never joined the conversation. 

In the beginning, Wei Ying was visibly wilting by the end of the meal, but as time went on his stamina improved, and he slowly was able to walk back to the infirmary with minimal assistance. 

Wei Ying was, by that point, able to bathe without aid from the healers, and WangJi usually took a bath at the same time behind a different privacy screen on the opposite side of the room.

Every night Jiang YanLi visited to comb and braid Wei Ying’s hair. Often, he played with the rattle drum and chattered while she did, and they made an effort to include WangJi in their conversations, something that left him feeling a blossoming warmth in his chest.

WangJi liked this routine; in the beginning he had expected being at Lotus Pier would be something of a hardship. But while he missed his home, he was comfortable here, something he hadn’t anticipated.

Always, by hai shi, Wei Ying was already tucked in bed and falling asleep, his day so full he was exhausted. Often Jiang Cheng or Jiang FengMian, or sometimes even Madam Yu checked in to wish him a goodnight with varying degrees of affection.

“Let us know if anything you remember upsets you, a-Xian,” Madam Yu said one night, a week and a half after Wei Ying first woke.

For a moment, WangJi wondered what upsetting things he might remember, but then remembered Wei Ying had lost his parents and had lived on the streets for several years. It was oddly easy to forget what he had suffered with Wei Ying’s good cheer.

“I will, shenshen,” Wei Ying promised. “I know you said bad things happened after my parents died.”

Madam Yu nodded, and for a moment hesitated as though she wanted to say more, but instead she patted his arm, wished him a good night, and left.

That night, WangJi woke suddenly around chou shi, confused at the interruption to his sleep. Then he heard soft sobs from across the room.

“Wei Ying?”

The room went silent. WangJi sat up and lit the candle beside his bed, rising to check on Wei Ying. He could see the tears on his face reflecting the light of the flame before he saw him. The boy stared at him, his breathing erratic.

“Wei Ying?”

“Lan Zhan,” was almost a relieved breath.

WangJi had little time to brace himself before Wei Ying launched himself from the bed and hugged him tightly. He was lucky not to drop the candle, and he almost chided the boy for the dangerous act before he realized Wei Ying was shaking.

“I’m sorry I woke you, I’m sorry,” the boy babbled.

He put the candle down on the bedside table next to the rattle drum and awkwardly patted Wei Ying’s back, trying to console him.

“It is no trouble,” WangJi assured him. “What happened?”

“Nightmare.”

From the way he was still trembling, it must have been a terrible one. WangJi occasionally had nightmares, but he’d never reacted this strongly to them. Wei Ying is clinging to him, his breathing ragged and terrified.

“I was falling,” Wei Ying croaked. “And I hit the ground and then there was darkness all around, but the darkness was alive, and it was swirling and there were voices calling my name. And then I woke up and it was all dark, and you called my name and I didn’t know if I was still dreaming.”

“You’re awake, Wei Ying,” WangJi told him.

“The darkness hurt. It felt real, Lan Zhan.”

WangJi remembered the conversations he’s overheard in the month, particularly the ones while Wei Ying was in a coma, about the dark resentful energy that had engulfed him while he was training and left him bleeding from the mouth and nose, convulsing and delirious with fever. He had never seen resentful energy personally; there wasn’t any in Cloud Recesses. But from the descriptions, this could be a nightmare that wasn’t a nightmare at all. 

Wei Ying could be remembering the attack, something the healers and Sect Leader Jiang and shufu will want to know.

But that was an issue to deal with later. Right now, Wei Ying was panicked and terrified, and that was WangJi’s main concern.

“It was a dream,” he told him anyway, not sure if he told a lie and not sure if he cared if it calmed Wei Ying. “You’re safe. We’ll keep the candle lit.”

When he tried to pull Wei Ying back to his bed, the boy resisted.

“I don’t want to go back,” he sobbed, clinging to him and burying his face against WangJi’s shoulder. “What if I have another nightmare?”

WangJi tried to remember how his brother would calm him after a nightmare. Sometimes it involved chamomile tea, but he didn’t know where to go for that, and he couldn’t remember ever being quite this distraught. But the other thing xiongzhang had done was stay with him, at least until he fell asleep, although sometimes he would wake at mao shi and he would still be there. He had always appreciated that.

“I will stay with you,” he finally said. “If you have a nightmare, I will be there.”

Wei Ying was quiet for a bit, as though considering whether WangJi’s presence would help. Finally, he nodded.

“I’m sorry for troubling you,” he murmured, sniffling.

“You are not troubling me,” WangJi told him, and realized it was true; he was more concerned for Wei Ying’s well-being than troubled by his behavior. “We will still leave the candle lit. That way if you have a nightmare, you won’t wake in the dark. You will see I am there.”

“Thank you.”

The way he said it was as though WangJi had saved his life, as though he was unworthy of his help, and it bothered him.

“There is no need to thank me,” he said, gently pulling him toward the bed again. “You are my friend.”

WangJi was relieved when Wei Ying let himself be tugged to the bed, when he smiled tremulously at being called a friend. The boy wouldn’t let go of him, even getting into bed, which made things difficult, but WangJi stayed patient.

Despite his clinginess, Wei Ying didn’t try to snuggle close as WangJi thought he might, but instead kept hold of his hand, curled on his side to keep him in eyesight. He realized it was not necessarily contact he needed, but the simple visual reassurance WangJi was there. He listened as his breathing calmed and was surprised when the boy fell asleep within minutes despite his earlier protestations—but the panic and fear had probably worn him out.

It took longer for him to fall asleep, but listening to Wei Ying’s soft, even breathing allowed him to slip toward it soon enough.

--------------------

Yeah, the dream totally was not the attack. Guess what it was!

Sheng are like a really bad version of the bagpipes, at least in my opinion. I do love the way paixiao and hulusi sound—they have a deeper sort of sound that would suit Jiang Cheng, in my opinion.

I have a few free weeks, so it seems I might be writing more during this time. This was largely written in 2 hours between 3-5am, just flowing out.