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luveurmilk · 1 month ago

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What is grief, if not love persevering?

In the same spot Wei Wuxian was branded years before, Lan Wangji pressed the heated iron to his chest. It singes through his clothes and the sun motif of the Qishan Wen sears into his skin and brands him to match his departed love.

or; Lan Wangji welcomes grief after the death of Wei Wuxian.

Words: 3.2K.

A/N: I can never really get over how devoted and grief stricken Lan Wangji is with Wei Wuxian. It's been years now and it still brings tears to my eyes.

This drabble is a mix of canon and what my own brain has conjured. I know the time skips aren't really accurate but for the sake of fic writing, pls say they do. My twt is @luveurmilk as well. You can scream at me there.

There’s a brief moment in Lan Wangji’s mind where he has some clarity in his situation. A very short lived moment that vanishes like a thief in the night.

A bloodbath is still happening at Nightless City in which no one has noticed the Yiling Patriarch is missing.

Wei Ying is injured, and badly so. Lan Wangji is covered in his blood from carrying him back to the Burial Mounds and into the Demon Subduing Cave where he can recover and Wangji can buy time. He doesn’t know how he’ll do it or how long he has, but his Wei Ying has a heartbeat and that’s all that matters. He’s exhausted but he uses some of his spiritual energy to try and heal some of the injuries covering Wei Wuxian’s body.

“Wei Ying, I’m here. I’m here.” Lan Wangji’s voice has never shown cowardice, but right now his tone is dripping with it. It’s shaky and wavering as he kneels at his side, listening to the soft pants and grunts coming from Wei Wuxian.

“Lan Wangji!”

The voice outside of the cave is thunderous and belongs to someone Wangji has always shown the utmost respect to. Yet in this moment, all his Uncle’s voice does is ignite a fire of protection so deep inside of him that he draws his sword.

Keep him alive. Defend. Kill. Slaughter. Just keep him alive. Wangji repeats this in his head just like he’s repeated the Wall of Discipline so many times. All rational thoughts are out of the window as he slowly makes his way to the entrance of the cave. His heartbeat is roaring in his ears, breaths coming out in short pants, and his hand trembling as he holds his sword in attack position.

When he steps to the front of the cavern, crazed-eyed and covered in blood, his Elders and Sect members are waiting for him with his Uncle standing tall in front. He sees an odd look flash across Lan Qiren’s face before it switches back to anger.

“Lan Wangji, just what have you done?” The normally composed Sect leader yells. “Hand over Wei Wuxian this instant!”

“No.” It’s simple. To the point. It’s all he can muster as he realizes they’re here to kill Wei Ying. His Wei Ying.

“Hanguang-Jun, you are under his trap. Wei Wuxian is evil and should be dealt with. Step aside!” Bloodshot, golden hues move to the sound of the other voice and it’s one of the Sect’s elders. In response, he raises his sword higher towards his elder. It’s an act of defiance, and an act of insanity. The people before him gasp in both bewilderment at his behavior and lack of dignity. Lan Wangji doesn’t care about his image anymore; the thing he cares about the most is lying on a cold cavern floor behind him that he is going to defend with his life.

The last few moments he remembers before his mind shuts it out was him moving forward, his Uncle wailing out, and his sword clanging with another.

———

Lan Wangji’s eyes stare cold and hard at the Wall of Discipline before him. Settled on his knees, he’s stripped to only his pants, leaving his back bare and exposed. The remaining Lan Sect Elders are present along with Lan Qiren, his brother, and the Lan Sect members who are to witness his punishment.

“Lan Wangji,” his elder begins. “For the murder and injury to thirty-three Gusu Lan Sect elders, for associating and befriending evil, for succumbing to rage and forgetting self restraint; you are being punished by the Discipline Whip.”

The leather whip thuds to the ground as it is removed from its case behind him. He heard Lan Xichen draw in a sharp breath, but the fear that is supposed to come; doesn’t. There’s no word on Wei Ying. Lan Wangji doesn’t know if he’s dead or alive and that thought alone has him numbed entirely.

“After you have received your punishment, you will enter seclusion for three years. During this time, you will reflect on your actions and pay respect to the dead.”

He can see out of the corner of his eyes that the whip is being handed off to his Uncle. His fists clench and his jaw tightens, but his stoic expression remains.

“Thirty-three lashes. One for every elder murdered or injured by your hand.”

“Uncle. . .” His older brother tries to interject with a worried voice. A normal punishment would be three to four whippings; enough to inflict pain and leave a reminder to never break those rules again. Thirty-three could kill him and for some outlandish moment Lan Wangji hopes it does.

Lan Xichen is silenced by their Uncle raising a hand, so he backs off. A hint of fear paints his brother’s face from what he can see out of the corner of his eye.

“Wangji, I am disappointed in you,” his uncle begins. “You have went down a path I didn’t expect you to. You lost yourself. Let this be a reminder of why we refrain from evil.”

A prolonged pause follows after like his Uncle expected him to say something. Wangji has nothing to say, nothing to deny. If given the chance, it would do it over and over again. The silence, however, is broken by the shifting of the whip. It’s being raised and he takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and waits for the strike.

The first time the leather meets his skin; it immediately slices open and searing pain fills Lan Wangji’s body. His knuckles crack from how clenched his fists are, but he’s unwavering. He refuses to give them a reaction unless his body fails him which he knows it eventually will. Blood rushes down his back and now off the whip; splattering a bit as it’s raised and he’s given a second lash.

It’s just as painful as the first as he exhales through his nose. His breathing becomes slightly uneven, and the first hit is starting to throb. Breathe. Relax. Don’t give them the satisfaction.

By the fifteenth lash, he’s letting out pained grunts. Blood pools around him, hot and sticky, as he finally drops to his hands. His entire back is nearly sliced open and getting worse with each continuous whip. Don’t cry. Don’t give them the satisfaction. They took your Wei Ying.

Lan Wangji loses consciousness by the twenty fifth. A combination of the excruciating pain he was enduring and the loss of blood was enough for him to fall forward on the pavement. He can faintly register his older brother pleading with their uncle for him one last time before welcoming the sweet relief of death; he assumes. It’s warm and inviting in him, calling his name so sweetly in a tone only Wei Wuxian can attain.

———

In the back hills of Gusu Lan; there’s a small field where the sun shines just right. The winter snow melts around mid spring that welcomes wildflowers and tall grass. With the tall grass and flowers, live burrows of bunnies scattered all around. It’s a scene of peace and silence; a place Lan Wangji escapes to when his days are too long.

He’s here now; sitting in the soft grass and listening to Wei Ying ramble on and on. The sun is hitting his face, Wei Ying’s head is in his lap, and bunnies hop around munching on the greenery.

“Lan Zhan, I didn’t expect you to try and visit me so early.” Wei Wuxian is playing with a strand of grass before shifting and letting one of the rabbits munch on it. He giggles and it makes his stomach flip in the best way. “I’m glad you found me.”

Lan Wangji isn’t sure what he means, but the euphoria he’s having just being in his mere presence doesn’t make him question it. He’s afraid if he speaks, Wei Ying will disappear and leave him alone forever.

“I will always find Wei Ying.” That earns him one of Wei Ying’s smiles that reaches his eyes. His heart flips and he’s warm. He’s happy. He’s safe.

They don’t speak anymore and they sit there for what feels like hours. He watches Wei Ying chase the rabbits around and laughing like a little kid. He wants to stay here forever with him. They could build a cottage and he could defect from his own clan; have a life where they are both safe from the cultivation world. They would have their own night hunts and come back to their cottage where Wei Ying could drink his favorite liquor until his face was flushed a pretty shade of pink.

“Wei Ying, stay with me here.” He says when the sun begins to set just below the horizon. The rabbits had long returned to their burrows and the soft sound of wind through the trees is all they can hear.

“Lan Zhan, my Lan Zhan.” He begins softly with a tone similar to one of rejection. He’s going to tell him no and let him down easy. Of course he wouldn’t stay tied down forever. His Wei Ying was free spirited and wanted to remain that way. “I have to go now.” Wei Wuxian says softly as he moves to stand and Lan Wangji follows suit.

“Wei Ying, no. Stay with me.” He pleads softly as his stomach churns with a feeling he can’t quite register. He reaches out for him and tries to grab his arm but it vanishes in his hand. He panics and searches every inch of the field but there isn’t a trace of him, yelling out for him but there's no response.

—

Lan Wangji fades in and out of consciousness for three months until he finally wakes one afternoon. His body hasn’t made much progress in healing but thanks to his brother the wounds have closed part of the way. He’s still bedridden in the Jingshi and can’t move much on his own. Each dream he had, he returned to the field and searched for Wei Ying, but he never came back. Not even with Wangji’s begging and pleading to the heavens.

“Xiong zhang. . .” Wangji barely mutters as his fingers reach out to grab at his brother’s robe. Each movement and each breath brings waves of pain throughout his weakened body. Lan Xichen kneels down toward him with an elated breath. “Wangji. . .” His brother feels his face with tender care and a smile that reminds him of their mother. He wonders if his brother had been doing it alone or if their uncle had had enough time to come visit him with a clear head.

“Wei Ying. . .” He watches his brother's face fall as his fingers cup the back of his head to soothe him as his breathing picks up. “Xiong zhang. . Wei Ying?” Every word hurts to speak and he needs to know if he's alive. He tries to sit up onto his hands which results in a pained cry being ripped from his throat but his brother keeps him down on his bed.

“Shh, shh.” Lan Xichen soothes softly as he settles once more. “Wangji, Wei Wuxian. . .” He’s interrupted by the first sounds of his younger brother’s crying which shatters his heart beyond what it was. “Wei Wuxian’s cultivation practices turned against him. When Clan Leader Jiang went to retrieve him; he was already gone.”

“No. . . NO!” Lan Wangji attempts to get to his knees but his body is still too weak. The cries leaving his throat are something even Lan Xichen has never heard before from his brother. “Wei Ying. Wei Ying!” He tries to crawl from the bed as his frantic brother restrains him with a talisman. In all the jostling and twisting, Wangji had ripped open a few of his scars and blood seeped from the wounds as if they were brand new.

Someone enters the Jingshi and he hears his brother speaking before his world fades to black once more.

—

The moon was high in the sky when Wangji pulled himself out of his bed for the first time in four months. The still healing wounds on his back scream at him to stop, but the grief consuming him is outweighing the pain. There’s a pit in his stomach that hasn’t gone away the few times he’s been awake because each moment of alertness comes crashing in on him that Wei Ying is dead.

Wei Wuxian is dead. Lan Wangji’s soulmate was dead.

He wishes his beating would’ve killed him. He wishes his brother hadn’t tried so hard to nurse his body back to health. He wishes his punishment was execution instead of the Discipline Whip so he could be with his Wei Ying.

So, Lan Wangji does what he needs to do to numb the pain clenching so tightly to his heart. He pulls back the flooring to the Jingshi in a concealed area and pulls out a stashed bottle of Emperor’s Smile. He had it put away incase Wei Ying agreed to come back to Gusu with him.

He pulls out the top and tips it back like it’s his afternoon tea. Of course the taste is horrible to him, but this was Wei Ying’s favorite so he would indulge just a little. He hugs the bottle to his chest as he sits on the edge of his bed; head already spinning with the downing effects of the liquor.

Flashbacks come to his mind as the alcohol seeps into his veins. Regret and wishful thinking of what he should’ve done. How he should’ve stood up for Wei Ying and stood by his side instead of against him.

He thinks of how powerful Wei Wuxian truly was; how he could command the dead with just a few notes of Chenqing.

Chenqing!

Lan Wangj leaps to his feet and hastily slides on his shoes. The Emperor’s Smile has numbed all pain that would’ve been radiating from his back making it easier for him to do what he needs to do. It’s well past nine when the doors to the Jingshi slam open and he stumbles his way to the Lan Sect’s war prize chamber. Surely they have Wei Ying’s dizi locked up so it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands. The two sect members look like they’ve seen a ghost when Wangji orders them to move.

He scurries down the stairs in an unattractive fashion and pushes through the doors to the chamber he was desperately searching for. “Chenqing. . . Chenqing.” He’s repeating it like a mantra with labored breaths as he opens the cabinets and rummages through them to the point precious metals, emblems, and swords clatter to the ground.

He’s certain those two standing guard outside retrieved Lan Xichen because he enters the chamber in his sleeping robes. His eyes are full of sleep after most likely being woken up by two very concerned Juniors. “Wangji. . What is the meaning of this? You need to be resting.” He treads carefully as more medals and pendants scatter to the floor while Lan Wangji ruins another display cabinet.

“A dizi, Xiong zhang. A dizi. .Chenqing.” He slurs his words as he steps back without any luck and meets his brother’s sad eyes. Lan Xichen takes note of his brother’s disheveled appearance and the way his eyes can’t seem to focus. He knows he’s growing frustrated by the way he’s stumbling around and searching through drawers with increasing tension.

“Wangji, we don’t have Chenqing. We aren’t certain who has Chenqing.” Lan Xichen watches with nervous eyes as his brother locates the cabinet containing their collected magical instruments over the years. Wangji pays no mind to how precious they are as he searches and searches for an ink black flute adorned with a red tassel.

None of them match and Xichen jumps as a brown colored dizi flies across the room and breaks in half against the wall behind him. Wangji lets out a loud, frustrated cry as he stumbles to another cabinet.

“Xichen, what is happening?” Lan Qiren demands as he enters the chamber matching his nephew’s appearance.

Lan Wangji rips open the doors as his mind is overwhelmed by the feeling of loss and grief once more. There wasn’t a trace left of Wei Wuxian anywhere. Even though his presence graced so many places the world was turning as if he never existed. Wangji was the only one grieving for a life that nobody else knew of or cared to know. A sob wrecks his frame as blood begins to soak his shirt.

“Lan Wangji, get back to the Jingshi immediately.” His uncle commands, but he refuses to listen. Rustling through the cabinets, his hand finds something familiar. Something he encountered years ago as a teenager. He pulls the object out.

The Qishan Wen branding iron.

“Wangji. .” His brother reaches forward as he notices Lan Wangji is using his spiritual energy to heat the iron.

“Lan Wangji, stop this instant!” His uncle roars, but it’s too late.

“Wei Ying. .”

A scream rips through his throat as the pain ignites in his body. Tears flood his eyes and he falls to his knees with the iron brand clattering to the floor. He sobs; chest shattering and gut wrenching cries erupt from his mouth as his brother reaches to retrieve him.

Lan Qiren stares in disbelief as his youngest nephew breaks down on the War Prize Chamber’s floor. Not even the death of his mother brought such a reaction. Wangji didn’t need discipline at this moment, he needed comfort. So, against what he was taught, Lan Qiren kneeled beside his nephew and allowed him to let his emotions flow.

Even if he was grieving for Wei Wuxian.

———

Lan Wangji makes his way to the field where he can hear squeals of delight and Wei Wuxian’s familiar laugh. He briefly sees a red ribbon poke through the tall, green blades and another happy shriek from a child.

A gasp and then Wei Wuxian’s head pops up with a smile so bright it reaches his eyes.

“Lan Ming Ze! Lan Yanli! Your bàba is done with his duties!”

Just then, two identical heads pop up from the grass wearing matching grins.

“Bàba!” Lan Yanli cries as she stumbles to her father through the field with her twin brother tailing right behind her.

“You found us, bàba!” Ming Ze says as Lan Wangji lifts both of his children up in his arms.

The sun is shining on their faces that adorn the mix of both Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. A soft breeze is making its way through the trees as the bunnies hop along and play. He feels Wei Ying’s arms slide around his midsection and his familiar warmth as he rests his head against Lan Wangji’s shoulder.

“Mhm, don’t you know?” His Wei Ying begins. “Bàba will always find us.”

#lan wangji #lan zhan #lan xichen #wangxian #wei wuxian #wei ying #lan qiren #mpreg if you squint #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #lan wangji x wei wuxian #everyone needs a hug #supportive lan quiren if you squint #yiling laozu #burial mounds

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