#because the ghost from the burial mounds never came back; it has never left!!

[rhymaes]

The Untamed (2019) // “Marengo,” Mary Oliver

[asksythe]

Hey just read your lovely hands fanfic and the concept of the blood pool being a prison for malevolent entities barred from the cycle of reincarnation is so COOL , is it a thing implied between the lines and we western audiences lack the cultural context to recognise it ?, or is it something you came up with if so can I have permission to incorporate the concept into my own fan works?

It is a cultural thing. It's not even implied in the novel. It's just outright stated. But it's one of those hundreds of tiny cultural details that probably fly over the head of the international audience.

Remember when the Wen people came back as bloody corpses to protect Wei Ying and fought back the fierce corpses riled up by the repaired Yin Hufu?

In this part, the novel describes the events following the first Sige of the Burial Mound. After the hundred cultivator houses slaughtered these defenseless elderlies, women, and children, they threw their corpses into the blood pool, thus forever barring them from reincarnation.

The phrase the novel uses is 永不超生 (lit. to never again be reborn, to be barred from the cycle of reincarnation forever). That's not a figure of speech. The novel is being literal. The Burial Mound itself is already a prison for all kinds of undead and ghost wraiths. The blood pool, by the novel descriptions, amounts to a maximum security cell. A ghost in the Burial Mound can eventually let go of their grudge/resentment and enters the afterlife/reincarnation. But anybody thrown into the blood pool doesn't have this option.

永不超生 is commonly portrayed in Chinese culture as a punishment by the authority of the underworld. That's not a judgment that a mortal is allowed to make.

The fact that the Hundred Houses carried out 永不超生 on the Wen is a detail that speaks of both their arrogance and their awareness of their guilt.

The Hundred Houses are well aware what they did to the Wen remnants is a sin. The custom of the time is, if you profess yourself to be the righteous side and slay someone seen as 'evil/villain,' it's customary to hang their corpses up for all to see.

Remember Nie Mingjue beheading Wen Xu and hanging Wen Xu's head at the gate of Uncleam Realm for all to see? NMJ is not doing that just because he has a vendetta against the Wen. He's doing that as part of ancient customs to declare to all that 'his kill is righteous,' that he doesn't need to hide it, and that Wen Xu and the Wens are villains that need to be put down.

That's the principle. Justice has no need to hide.

But not only did the Hundred Houses hide the corpses of the Wen remnants, but they also imprisoned their souls, hoping that would keep the Wen from coming back as grudge wraiths or for the karmic cycle itself to snap back for this sin.

The Hundred Houses built up the Wen remnants to be this evil army at Wei Ying's beck and call. So they need to be put down. But the truth is that they were just a bunch of elderlies, women, and children who spent all their lives being doctors (as they belong to the Qihuang branch, with their own pacifistic philosophy).

Had the Hundred Houses performed the custom and showed their supposedly righteous kill to the world, then the truth would out. That they were either liars or stupid, and that they best be prepared to repay for their transgression on both innocent Wens and on the authority of hell itself.

And that, my friend, is why the second Burial Mound Siege ended the way it did, and why the vast majority of those same cultivators left Wei Ying alone afterward. What do you think those same cultivators think when their victims break out of the supposedly unbreakable maximum security cell to save Wei Ying (another of their victims)? And then those same Wen souls entered the afterlife?

The Western vernacular for this part is: Karma is a tenacious bitch with a long memory. It doesn't matter how much they lie about their crime and act like they are righteous or how good they think they hide the proof of their deeds. Heaven and hell itself are watching.

....Sorry, I have some strong feelings about the treatment of the Wen remnants.

That is to say, feel free to incorporate it in your works.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

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1. Hello! I’m hoping to find a specific fic, which is narrated from the POV of a mail delivery person from a small sect. They observed how Lan Wangji came to mail a letter every year to Wei Ying after his death, and came to see the melancholy and longing that Wangji had. They were not able to deliver the letters but they kept it. Eventually they didn’t see Wangji come to mail his letter on a particular year, but out of duty, the mail delivery person went to Cloud Recess to deliver the letters he kept. And there, he met Wangji and Wei Ying.

It’s a beautifully written fic that I read years ago, but for the life of me I can’t remember the name. I did a lot of searching on my bookmarks but can’t find it. I would really appreciate it if someone can point me to the right direction!

Thanks so much. @tacitanovember

FOUND! you’ve got to find a way, say what you want to say by Quixiote (T, 12k, wangxian, outsider pov, 13 years of WWX’s death, letters)

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2. hello, i am very sorry to send this ask but i've been trying to find this fic. (Please don't feel bad! This is what our blog is here for! ^^ - Mod C) i don't remember anything about it other than this scene in which LWJ is holding LSZ while they're on a boat because he's getting seasick and he takes care of him while he sleeps. if i remember correctly it was Sizhui-centric. thank you so much in advance!

FOUND? Gathered Herbs & Sweet Grasses by hansbekhart (Not Rated, 19k, WangXian, dad wangji, LWJ's Questionable Parenting Skills, Grief/Mourning, Recovery, Injury Recovery, Hopeful Ending, Canon-Typical Violence)

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3. hiii, I'm looking for a fic in which Jiang cheng suddenly starts hearing other people's thoughts and ends up hearing lwj thinking about wwx (inappropriately) @mercurygirlwt28

FOUND! Losing My Mind by pupeez4eva (T, 6k, wangxian, JC & WWX, Humor, Protective JC, JC drinks a potion that lets him hear people's lustful thoughts, Teenage LWJ has a lot of feelings, Canon Divergence, Cloud Recesses study arc)

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4. heyy there! i was wondering if you could help me find a fic from a while ago. basically wwx nearly dies when he fell from nightless city, but was however saved by baoshan sanren. in the the end to save wwx, she had to give her golden core to him so she was no longer immortal (i think). thanks in advance! @aquiver-heart

FOUND? Ghosts Shouldn’t by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 15k, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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5. sorry to bother you but I've been trying to find a fic for some time and I can't. is a multi-part series. in the first part wei ying is left to take care of some young disciples and lan qiren forgets to send someone to replace him. the next parts are about how they don't have enough teachers and how wei ying would fit the role. sorry for my writing. i used google translate to write. @mazilu06122001

FOUND? ❤️ Joy In the Midst of These Things Series by Glitterbombshell (T/G, 53k, WangXian, Angst with Happy Ending, Post-Canon, Teacher WWX, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff)

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6. Hey there, I’m looking for a onshot fic where WWX repeatedly say “I love you” to LWJ who never says it back until after WWX is resurrected and then he is the one repeatedly say “I love you” to wwx. I’m pretty sure I found it on your blog but I haven’t found it since. @gwencaer

FOUND! When the Words Stop Coming by mrcformoso (T, 7k, WangXian, Canon Compliant, POV WWX, POV LWJ, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Canonical Character Death, Love Confessions, Rejection, LWJ is a Panicked Gay, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Trauma, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sad with a Happy Ending)

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7. Good day! There's this fic that I've read before and I forgot what tag/s I used to bookmark it. I only remember bits of details. So, the scene that I remember is during the sects were trapped in the burial mounds—that chapter when the juniors were kidnapped—yiling patriarch wwx was sleeping (or dead?) at the blood pool(?). Then the present wwx came to dead/yp!wwx to wake him up (something like that) so they can save the others from the puppets. It is before they go to Lotus Pier. I think there's also a scene where they tried to save him (yp!wwx) that they cant leave him alone at the burial mounds or smth. Im sorry, that all I can recall but I really want to find it again. Thank you!

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8. I’m looking for the fic where little WWX is in Cloud Recesses and little LWJ is like “gonna marry him” and when he’s told “no” he finds different ways to tie his ribbon to little WWX until the adults give in?

are you sure it's Cloud Recesses? bc if you are not sure, this sounds like the Sami fic where Jiang Yanli travels back in time, but that part of the fic takes place at Lotus Pier

FOUND! Sail Away Sweet Sister by sami (M, 73k, WangXian, YZY/CSSR/MDM Lan, MingLi, Time Travel, EXTREME Canon Divergence, Wide Focus Narrative, Some People Live/Not Everyone Dies, Most Named/Canon Characters Live, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Families of Choice, Parenthood, this work contains a major tonal shift, Fluff, Angst, Underage Sex, not particularly explicit, but not at all ambiguous, PTSD, Only a tiny bit, Unforeseeable consequences, The butterfly effect, Slightly Dark JYL, Asexual Characters, but that's not really the focus, Canon-Typical Violence)

not FOUND 💖 Let the Heavens be the judge by A_Mirror_of_memories (T, 4k, WangXian, Time Travel, Fix-It, Not JC friendly, YZY Bashing, minor character death offscreen, JC is the worst, Angst with a Happy Ending, offscreen child character death, Fluff and Angst, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, CSSR and WCZ Live, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies)

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9. ficfinder request! modern college au where Wei ying is a student that arrived late to a class that lab qiren should be teaching but instead lan zhan is, and Wei ying is sassy/rude to Lan zhan. I think it's rated E but I can't remember anything else. TIA! @the-marathon-continues-nip

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10. Hello, I am looking for a fic that focused on lsz feeling worried that wwx will feel disappointed that he grew up lan. The fic references what he told lsz the first time lwg left the wen settlement. This fic has been stuck in my head but I can't find it, I would rlly appreciate some help! 😭 @fox1023

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11. A) There's this fic where WWX moves into a house and ghost LWJ lives in the attic or something like that, it's an Eldritch horror kind of fic I think? Iirc Lwj doesn't have a face and he drips water but I could be mixing up different things.

B) I'm also looking for a fic that's kinda the opposite? Where it's WWX who lives in the house and LWJ pretends he doesn't see him

11A)

FOUND! ghost stories for lost souls by queenklu (M, 17k, WangXian, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Body Horror, (of the ghostly variety - hey number of limbs are hard), child death (not explicitly described), Ghost Hunting, Spirit Box, Juice Box, Reincarnation)

11B)

FOUND! one good thing by Yuu_chi (T, 26k, WangXian, Modern AU, Ghost WWX, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, I swear there really is a happy ending, And an alarming amount of rabbits, [Podfic] One Good Thing by jellyfishfire)

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12. Hello, I saw someone from Twitter asking about a fic where Jiang Cheng wished Wei Wuxian never existed after their battle in Nightless City (I'm guessing this is when WWX battled with the other cultivation sects and JYL died). They recalled it has some elements of poppy flowers dying and WWX's soul being connected with it will totally dissipate too.

Can you help? @tiredlaoshi

FOUND? Remember by Amona (T, 59k, JC & WWX, wangxian, Canon Divergence, self-sacrifice, erasing oneself from history, colored souls, sword spirits, major angst w happy ending, implied/referenced rape/non-con, minor character death, WIP)

FOUND? The Way It Wasn’t by KouriArashi (T, 72k, WangXian, XiYao, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It, (eventually haha), Slow Build, Family Feels, Moral Ambiguity, Eventual Happy Ending)

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13. Hey so the fic lm looking for is a Jiang Cheng centric fic but it does have Wangxian in it but it's a time travel fic with JC fixing thing he gets NHS to help him travel back it's OK if you can't find it tho

FOUND? Lynchpin by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 103k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Fix-It)

FOUND? heaven is for me too high by stiltonbasket (M, 11k, JC & WWX & JYL, wangxian, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, LXC/NMJ, LWJ & JC, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, aka the one where JC goes back to the past, and absolutely does not want to be there, Politics, Angst, POV JC, the jc and lwj alliance nobody expected, Bad Matchmaking, Team as Family, Happy Ending, WIP)

FOUND? Moments of Revelation by meyari (T, 134k, JC/NHS, wangxian, LXC/JGY, major character death, POV JC, Canon Divergence, Temporary Character Death, Character Death, Time Travel Fix-It, Self-Sacrifice, Torture, Chronic Pain, Chronic anxiety, magical healing and how it fails, Grief/Mourning, PTSD, Chronic Mental Health Issues, learning to communicate for stubborn people, premeditated murder as a method of problem solving, Assassination, renamed meng yao, Because of Reasons, Warning: JGS, Warning: WRH, Families of Choice, no elders are perfect not one of them, Unreliable Narrator(s), Demonic Possession)

FOUND? For Both Of Us (And Time Is But A Paper Moon) by sami (E, 65k, wangxian, JC & WWX; JC & LWJ, LWJ & LXC, Canonical Character Death, Mentions of Rape, not explicit but definitely referenced, Time Travel, Not Everyone Dies au, Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, WWX/babie tendencies, WQ is a queen in any reality, Healing, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Canon Divergence, Asexual JC, First Time, Getting Together, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, WWX finds new ways to be oblivious, seriously it surprised even us)

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14. Hi!!! I am looking for a fic where wei wuxian travels back in time but tries to kill himself to avoid all the tragedy that happened to his loved ones. Please help me find this one!!!

FOUND? (Un)Hidden truth by Sarah_R (M, 198k, wangxian, major character death, graphic depictions of violence, characters watching their show, characters watching the future, watching the future, Time Travel Fix-It, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide Attempt, On the first chapter, Suicidal Thoughts, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Nightmares, Self-Harm, dark, fluff, Angst, LWJ best husband, WWX needs all the love and hugs in the world, and he gets it, WWX Protection Squad, The juniors are literally the light of the show, WQ best sister, YZY and JFM will realize what an absolute shit they’ve been, Character Development, Sentient Burial Mounds, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Except the people who deserve to, WIP)

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15. Fic I'm looking for: a royalty au, LWJ POV, LWJ is the prince, it's a one shot, WWX and LWJ are friends or at least have a close relationship throughout. I don't remember what status WWX is but I know for sure he's not a servant cuz there is pass in the fic where LWJ says WWX helps the palace staff even though he doesn't have to. WWX basically acts as a waiter for a little bit during this royal ball and that's where the confession happens in front of everyone. Not Desiderium. Thank you so much

FOUND? How to propose to the love of your life in one simple step by CloudyInk (G, 6k, WangXian, Royalty, LXC is King, Prince LWJ, General WWX)

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16. Hello, this is the first time I do not know if this info will be enough. I read a modern au short fic before in which wwx have a terrible eye sight and memory. Every time he goes to Lan house he will go somewhere different from what he is looking for. Like he is supposed to go to a restroom but ended up in a kitchen. Lan Qiren then said to LWJ that his boyfriend might be a thief because he is always found somewhere he did not say he will go. Then when lqr visited lwj and wwx's house, he found out that wwx got lost even to his own house. Like he cannot even find the mug and lwj has to say where it is. Lwj then said to lqr that it is because wwx got into an accident when he was a child, the same day he lost his parents. That is the reason for his terrible memory and eye sight. After that, lqr became soft to wwx. And every time Wangxian visited the Lan house. He will help wwx find what he is looking for.

Thank youuu @yunshenlianhua

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17. Hii mods , can you help me find this fics

A) it's time travel but here WWX gave up on cultivation world while whole cultivation world needs his help to defeat wen ruohan....?? I guess everyone is back from past ?? Now sure

B) I don't know where I read this fic ...and don't knew if fic like this exists where after Wuxian's death he is in ghost city but in child form with having same mind as child he later get adopted by hualian they raise him once again he remember nothing till the day in his (new )16 year old body he sees the newly ascended God lwj

C) I don't remember much but I guess it mpreg and has twin lsz n Jingyi but they have lwj because he is busy ? Or just not there with them..I am confused

Sry to ask this many at once but help me ..this half reads are living rent free in my mind @selflovingmedj

C)

17A)

FOUND? The Line Between Good and Evil by Dandelion_sama (G, 34k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, What-If, Rebirth, Time Travel, kind of Mass Reborn, reverse uno, Canon-Typical Violence, WIP)

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18. Hey! Do you remember a fic where a-yuan gets sick and WWX brings him to the cloud recesses for treatment? There was a heart wrenching scene where wwx asked the lan sect to take a-yuan in and raise him. I can't seem to find it. Thanks in advance!

FOUND! the kite string and the anchor rope by fleurdeliser (M, 38k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, set after the yiling date, Sick Child, the illness never gets worse than it is in the first 1000 words)

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19. hi! I'm looking for a case/curse fic, post-canon/getting together - which features wangxian & the gusu lan/juniors solving a case in a cursed town. iirc, the curse is related to a wish granting ritual at a yearly festival, and i believe lwj had visited this festival before in the previous year and wished for wwx's return. thank you! @patchworkpotatoes

FOUND! 爱不释手; never let me go by yiqie (E, 68k, WangXian, Case Fic, Blood and Injury, Demons, Body Horror)

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20. Hi! I'm here for fic finder request. I'm sure I bookmark the story but couldn't find it. It was set in the Cloud Recesses study arc where Wei Ying grow up with the Lan. Wangxian is engaged with each other. I remember that Jin Zixuan was jealous when Jiang Yanli and Wei Ying start to get close while they were in cloud recesses. Nie Huaisang told Jin Zixuan and Jiang Cheng that WX are engaged and they were shocked because they thought wangxian are cousins. Sorry if my explanation is a mess and I hope you can help me find it. Thank you! @mayuchi96

FOUND! what a strange life by dass22 (dass15) (T, 26k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Friendship, POV Alternating, mostly from JC pov tho)

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[robininthelabyrinth]

A-Yuan wasn’t the only child among the Wen Remnants, just the youngest.

Children's Day - ao3

Lan Wangji carefully scooped up the boy out of his hiding place, tucked beneath a pile of stones, sick with fever and fast asleep.

It was a good hiding place. If Lan Wangji hadn’t played Inquiry and demanded to know if there were any living beings around in this cursed place of death, he would never have found the small child.

He remembered him – this was little A-Yuan, who Wei Wuxian had taken down into town to play, the one Lan Wangji had bought all those toys for in his confusion, the one who called him rich-gege. Barely more than two years old, having never known anything but war.

He was all that was left, now. There was nothing else left in the battlefield.

No one else left.

Lan Wangji closed his eyes in pain.

I’ll care for him for you, he promised Wei Wuxian’s ghost, wherever it might be now. Now that you cannot.

I’ll take him back to Gusu to raise as my own – wishing you were by my side.

-

-Earlier-

“Sect Leader!” one of his aides cried out when he staggered back into camp. “What – who’s that?”

Jiang Cheng looked down at the girl in his arms. She was – four, maybe? Five? He had no idea.

She looked a bit like Wen Qing.

“I found her hiding in the corner of the battlefield when she made a noise,” he said hoarsely. “The Wen sect remnants…by the time I got there, they were almost all dead already, all her family. She’s – she’s young. It didn’t seem right.”

Wei Wuxian always liked children, he thought vaguely to himself as he looked down at her. It wasn’t so much of a surprise that he would keep one there…in fact, if he thought back to that horrible meeting they’d had that one time he’d come to the Burial Mounds to try to talk to Wei Wuxian, he thought he remembered there being a small child there. This must be her.

She was bigger than he remembered, but that was what happened with small children, wasn’t it?

“Her surname is Wen?”

“No,” Jiang Cheng snapped automatically, and his aide took a step back from his vehemence. “The Wen sect is dead, you understand? All of them. The cultivation world refused to allow them to live, that much is obvious enough. Her surname…”

He looked down at her.

I failed Wei Wuxian, he thought grimly. I won’t fail his legacy.

“Her surname will be Jiang.”

-

-Earlier-

“We found this child hiding in the Demon Subduing Cave,” one of the guards reported, looking nervous. “Lianfeng-zun – what do we do with them?”

Jin Guangyao frowned down at the child, judging the child’s age to be about five or six – maybe seven, considering the likelihood of malnutrition at the Burial Mounds. If they were any younger, he would’ve said that the child ought to just execute them as useless; any older, and he would’ve had no choice but to declare them an enemy combatant, and thereby order them executed.

At this age, though…they were still young enough to be taught to forget their current surname, and to learn new loyalties, and yet old enough to perhaps remember a little of what they had learned, living as they had for a few years with the inventor of demonic cultivation.

Jin Guangyao glanced at the papers in his hands, full of barely legible scribbles, laying out powerful new spells and interesting ideas. They would help Xue Yang with his work – but not as much as a helper would, and naturally they’d just brutally executed all the other ‘helpers’ that might have been available.

Not exactly Jin Guangyao’s personal preference, but he wasn’t the one leading the Jin sect army.

Still, his father, who had been the one leading, had retired to his tent, and now Jin Guangyao was the one with the power, left to be in charge of mopping up. That, in turn, gave him a little more leeway, which meant he could implement his own thoughts, rather than badly thought out instructions.

“Put the child in my tent,” he said, and smiled. “The poor thing must have gotten lost and entered the battlefield – after we arrived. You understand?”

The guard saluted deeply. “Lianfeng-zun is kind and beneficent,” he said, and his expression was worshipful. “I will tell the others that the child is from some distant Jin branch.”

Jin Guangyao hadn’t intended for him to do that, but – well, he couldn’t exactly refute it now, could he, and anyway there were worse things to happen. Everyone would know that he had kindly taken in some orphaned child of war, which would be good for his reputation.

He smiled and nodded, and thought of the future.

-

-Earlier-

“Well, shit,” Nie Mingjue said, staring at the trio of children: nine or ten years old, he thought, maybe a little older, two girls and a boy. They stared back at him, wide-eyed and terrified – they were very clearly trying to sneak off the Burial Mounds down the back way.

Nie Mingjue rubbed his face, glad that he’d insisted on doing the forward scout work before the attack tomorrow morning himself rather than let it go to someone else. He hadn’t wanted to come to this blasted place in the first place, being that he still wasn’t sure exactly what had gone down with Wei Wuxian, who’d been a good man once. But good Nie cultivators had died at Lanling City at Wen Ning’s hands, the Jin sect claiming that that brutal attack was at Wei Wuxian’s instigation, and at the Nightless City at Wei Wuxian’s hands directly, and he didn’t have any evidence to exculpate the man, either; he had no grounds to look the families of those Nie cultivators in the eye and tell them not to pursue vengeance against the man who had slaughtered their brothers and fathers and sons, sisters and mothers and daughters, like they meant nothing.

They deserved vengeance.

Just as he had, for his father.

But at the same time…

“You’re all surnamed Wen, I take it?” he asked, and they slowly nodded. “Dafan Wen?”

Another nod.

“Wrong answer,” he said, making a snap decision. This wasn’t like his father at all, not really; he had wanted to kill Wen Ruohan, who had done the deed himself, while these children clearly hadn’t done anything. “Swear to me here and now that you won’t seek revenge for your sect or family, and you can be surnamed Nie instead.”

They looked at each other.

“Your family didn’t send you to run away because they wanted you to take revenge,” he said. It was a guess, but he could tell from the way their shoulders sagged that he was right. “They wanted you to live. Well?”

They swore.

He took them home.

-

-Earlier-

She tripped and fell flat on her face.

“Hey, girl!”

She looked up, eyes wide with terror – she hadn’t expected to be caught so soon – but the cultivator in front of her didn’t strike her down. He was a young man, just a few years older than her, and he looked nice, kneeling to help her up.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “Did you get lost?”

Lost? From where would she get lost, exactly?

Despite that, she nodded.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Here isn’t a good place, though – we’re going to have a battle tomorrow…can you tell me where you’re from?” He frowned. “Or – can’t you speak?”

An idea suddenly came to mind, and she shook her head, lifting up her hands to mime signs like the ones she’d seen Lady Wen and her brother use sometimes when they needed to talk without disturbing others.

“Doesn’t talk,” he murmured to himself. “Clothing of white, ripped all to ribbons –”

She’d torn out any trace of the red sun. White was a common color, but she was old enough to know that she couldn’t let anyone know she was surnamed Wen.

“Oh, I’ve read about this before! Are you a bird yao that’s cultivated to humanity?”

What?

She’d been thinking of trying to pass as a traumatized war veteran, but she was only fourteen, after all; it wasn’t very believable. Of course, it was a lot more believable that bird yao – who would leap to that conclusion?

“My surname is Ouyang,” the man said, smiling brightly at her. “You should come back with me – I can teach you to speak, and we can give you a name…how about ‘Luo’ as a surname? That has to do with birds. Or we could surname you Bai, instead, since your clothing is white! Or maybe -”

She smiled helplessly at his nonsense. What a silly, cheerful man! Maybe she’d overestimated his age, he couldn’t be more than two or three years older, at most, and his brain was clearly not in the right place, filled up to the brim with romantic stories and adventure tales instead of facts.

It was a nice change, actually.

She accepted his hand as she stood.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

-

-Earlier-

Lan Wangji had returned home and submitted to a dreadful punishment. The elders he had injured on Wei Wuxian’s behalf were either in treatment or recovering.

As for the rest that had been at the Nightless City…

Many were dead.

Lan Qiren landed in the Burial Mounds, lips pressed tightly together.

He knew he was taking a risk in coming here to Wei Wuxian’s lair – no matter what Lan Wangji thought, whatever good points he’d had in the past, the man was now little better than a mad dog. He’d caused the death of three thousand people just the day before, three thousand innocents that hadn’t had anything to do with anything; why would he hesitate to attack his old teacher?

There was already talk of a siege – Jiang Cheng himself had promised to lead it, to wipe off the stain on the Jiang sect’s record, and the Jin sect had been right behind him. Even Nie Mingjue had been dragged in against his will, suborned by his sect members’ need for vengeance. As for the Lan Sect…Lan Xichen had looked so stricken by the thought that Lan Qiren had volunteered for the grim duty, despite Lan Qiren having never been much of a fighter and even less of a general. He intended to take only the smallest possible contingent, and to limit their work as much as possible to cleansing the dead rather than killing those who remained there – that much, at least, he could do for his nephew.

Either way, though, no matter his powers, Wei Wuxian would not live out the week.

If Lan Qiren desired vengeance, he need only wait.

And yet, here he was.

Alone, practically unarmed – and here nonetheless.

An old woman came out from the cave and squinted at him.

“It’s over,” she said sadly. “Isn’t it?”

Lan Qiren looked at her. One of the Wen remnants that Wei Wuxian had surrounded himself with, he assumed; the ones he’d given up his comfortable life for, claiming he was only acting as a righteous man ought. Perhaps he even had thought he was, back then.

Perhaps he really had been, back then.

“Yes,” Lan Qiren said, and cleared his throat. “After what he did at the Nightless City – the verdict is unquestionably death. But the rest of you…there are armies coming, and armies are not known for their leniency, especially not on passerby with the wrong surname. But they’re not here yet. There’s still time to flee – if you go now, you could take on a new surname and find some quiet place to live on.”

Lan Wangji had said they were civilians. Civilian life was to be prioritized above all else.

Lan Qiren was only doing what he must.

Despite his well-meant warnings, however, the old lady shook her head.

“There’s nowhere to go, and we won’t give up our surname,” she said, polite but stubborn to the last. “But thank you for taking the time to come here to tell us.”

“Wangji said that there were children here,” Lan Qiren insisted, ignoring her refusal. “If you won’t flee with them, at least send those that are old enough out on their own, and hide the younger ones. Tell them to forget their surnames – most people won’t rampantly murder children, so there’s a chance they’ll make it through, and live. Can you deny them that, just for pride?”

That gave the old woman pause.

“We’ll do what we can,” she said, and then eyed him. “How good are you at medicine?”

Lan Qiren frowned. “I can’t provide care –”

“She’s already dead. Come help anyway.”

The woman in question was not already dead, but dying – she was in her late teens, seventeen or eighteen at most, and she was in labor. From the glassiness of her eyes, the redness of her cheeks, and the threadiness of her pulse, it was clear that infection had long ago set in. It was not an exaggeration to say she was dead, little better than a corpse.

She was little more than a child.

“I don’t want her to die alone,” the old woman said. “But if you stay with her, I can use the time to try to take care of the rest. You’re not wrong, I suppose – the children, at least, deserve a chance to live on, even if it means leaving our surname behind.”

Lan Qiren looked down at the woman, unconscious already and unlikely to ever wake, and yet still whimpering. “And her child?”

The old woman looked surprised. “Can a child born like this still live?”

Lan Qiren had almost no medical training beyond the most superficial basics that were the necessity for any battlefield or night-hunt, with one sole exception: he had supervised the births of both his nephews by himself with little aid – his brother’s wife hadn’t wanted anyone else to be present, possibly in an attempt to prematurely enter her grave, possibly just out of spite. He had studied very hard in the days leading up to those births, and knew far more on the subject than most men did.

“It’s possible,” he said. “Unlikely, but – possible.”

He hesitated for a long moment.

“I can take the baby,” he finally said. “Pass him off as some war-orphan child of distant Lan cousins, sent to me on account of their deaths. I could raise him, or else give him to my cousin to raise; he’s got a large enough family that no one would question it.”

“Why would you do that?”

Lan Qiren looked at the woman who was dying, little more than a child herself. “Because of the children I can’t help.”

The old woman was quiet for a little while.

“Very well,” she said, and leaned forward to whisper the name the young woman had thought about for her child into his ear. “That works with Lan as a surname, wouldn’t it? That’s not bad.”

“Not bad at all,” Lan Qiren agreed, and rolled up his sleeves, settling down beside the girl. “Not bad at all.”

[silverflame2724]

Happy Prompt (if you feel like it): WWX being the genius/ex first disciple of great scet that he is realizes they can't sustain the Burial Mounds. So he comes up with a Plan to make them all dissappear. Knowing how important lineage is so them, he asks them to give up the Wen name and take up Wei. (The wens are mostly common folk who just want to live so they agree). He the proceeds to hide them among other clans. People who have met and remember all the good young master Wie always did. He hides them among the Jiang and Nie. (I always head cannon that part of WWX'S flirty reputation comes from him helping women who are in bad situations/ NHS somehow finds out/knows and begins to help him. I figure theyhad to get several Lan women out. Mama Lans ghost helps?). JC knows but ignores it, they aren't WENS anymore, so his pride can leave it be. I'm not sure if A'yuan would still end up with Lan Zhan? But then WWX, WN, and WQ all fake thier deaths and go travel as rogue cultivators. But now WWX has all these living and dead people praying to/for him as the patron Saint of lost causes? And he accidentally becomes an immortal without realizing it? To the absolute fond disgust of WQ, of course. Anyway, I figure old Jin perv still pulls his bullshit at a discussion conference and between NHS, JYL, and LWJ? They somehow clear everyone's nsme. And then newly immortal WWX rocks up in there (to the horror of the Lan Elders who now have to face thier own bullshit/ hypocrisy) and lives happily ever after.

I think I read a prompt or a fic somewhere with the concept of the Wens hiding in plain sight.

________________________

The thought came to him out of nowhere. 

It had been a peaceful day with the Wens as he farmed, invented and tinkered with various incomplete contraptions when Wei Wuxian was struck with a thought: they could not continue like this.

Wei Wuxian wasn’t an idiot. He knew that they couldn’t sustain themselves in the Burial Mounds. Their crops hardly prospered, one by one the more elderly individuals of the Wens got sick and died, the resentful energy messed with everyone’s temperament, the cultivators never stopped trying to break his wards.....the list went on and on.

He had to come up with a plan. He thought they could live here for a time, but that was just wishful thinking. 

With this in mind, he takes the next few days to come up with a concrete plan.

...............................

The first task, and perhaps the most important one, is to ask the Wens to give up the Wen name. It would be easier from then on.

As he presented this suggestion, he was surprised by how readily they agreed. He knew how important lineage was to them, so the rapidness of them giving up their name was shocking. 

“Would you......take up my name?” Wei Wuxian asked quietly. 

The Wens were silent before cheering. Wei Wuxian didn’t know how to react to this. The Wens told him that they were more than happy to accept his name since they were his family. 

Wei Wuxian held back the tears and laughed happily instead as he went on to tell him the next plan of action: hiding them in plan sight.

Various people from various clans owed him favors and remembered the good in him, as they were more than happy to take on the refugees he hid away now that they were no longer Wens.

They had to do this quietly and slowly though. It would be suspicious if a large group of people suddenly left Yiling all at once. So Wei Wuxian took each of them to different places. Some of them went back to their original homes, some went to the Nie, some to the Yao, some to the Ouyang clan. 

He even sends some to the small village of women who he helped run away from their horrible home situations.

It was a little tricky with Nie, but Nie Huaisang pulls through and Nie Mingjue suspects nothing.

He sends some to the Jiang and Jiang Cheng grudgingly accepts them, knowing that they are no longer Wen. 

And for A’ Yuan.......He sends A’ Yuan to Lan Zhan, who is familiar with A’ Yuan. Wei Wuxian sends a letter to Lan Zhan asking him to meet and instead of appearing, A’ Yuan is there in his stead. The letter to Lan Zhan details what to do with A’ Yuan and to hide his identity.

Wei Wuxian trusts that Lan Zhan would take his suggestion and tell his brother and uncle that A’ Yuan was a child that Lan Zhan was asked to take care of by a dying mother.

Wei Wuxian watches from afar as Lan Zhan takes A’ Yuan away and takes the last step in ensuring that the cultivation world forgets him: He fakes his, Wen Qing’s and Wen Ning’s deaths. There’s enough corpses in the Burial Mounds and ones with their physique to replace the Wens and him. He gossips to the town that he’s going to destroy his weapon, the Seal, and subsequently fakes an explosion of resentment, quickly disappearing with the Wen siblings to a random direction. 

He always thought how nice it would be to be like his parents and be rogue cultivators. He guesses that he’ll find out now.

..................................

Years pass and Wei Wuxian makes decent salary by taking care of monsters in the area. Wen Qing is a doctor, of course, and Wen Ning becomes her assistant.  

They move to a little village near Dongying and settle down there. The people there a little more open to demonic cultivation and dark arts and don’t bat an eye at Wei Wuxian using such means. 

Wei Wuxian invents more contraptions, selling them under a false name in towns far away from Dongying.

One day, on a chance night hunt near Yunmeng, Wei Wuxian hears whispers and gossip about Nie Huaisang, Lan Wangji and Jiang Yanli clearing his name and capturing the actual people responsible. 

He’s happy to hear this. Overjoyed. But that doesn’t mean he’ll gladly return to the cultivation world. He’s had enough of that life. 

He walks around town for a bit longer, catching bits of gossip here and there. As explores the town, wine jug in hand, he nearly chokes around a mouthful of wine as he sees a small shrine encasing a statue of his likeness. What.....the hell??

He quickly asks around and finds out that people are praying to him for protection. Wei Wuxian squirms a little at this, glad he’s wearing a weimao to cover his face. 

All of this...praying makes him uncomfortable. Not long ago, people were spitting on his name and now he’s suddenly become some sort of Patron for protection? The change is remarkable and cements Wei Wuxian’s decision to firmly stay out of the cultivation world. 

People’s opinions change like a tide and Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to stick around long enough for them to switch back. He sighs, disposing of his empty jug, and leaves the town.

.......

Surprisingly, that’s not the end of the changes. 

He got careless on a night hunt and ends up with the claw of a yaoguai piercing him all the way through his stomach. When the yaoguai pulled out its claw, though......Wei Wuxian healed quickly. Too quickly.

He recovers from the shock at this and finishes off the yao.

What just happened?

.

.

A quick trip to Wen Qing answered everything.

“Congratulations.” Wen Qing says dryly. “You’re an immortal.”

“........What.”

Wen Qing sighs, “From what you told me, you healed unnaturally quickly, right?”

Wei Wuxian nods. 

“There have only been records of immortals recovering that quickly. Even Wen Ruohan healed slower than you did.”

“But I don’t have a core???”

“You do. Sort of.” Wen Qing replies. “I’m actually surprised you haven’t you felt it.”

“.....” I mean, I did think it was odd that I didn’t freeze to death in the winter or die of hunger when money became tight over these years, but I thought those were side effects of demonic cultivation! Wei Wuxian quickly goes through the motions of feeling for his core, willing the surge of hope he felt down. 

And he......didn’t feel a core. He felt more of a large mass of energy congregated in his dantian.

Wei Wuxian is glad that he is sitting down right now because he feels very faint.  “But.....this......how?” 

“Hmm. Well, from what I’ve been hearing, you’ve become some sort of Patron Saint?” Wei Wuxian nods. “It’s rare, but cultivators can gain power from prayers. Take Wen Ruohan for example.”

“He became powerful through the same means?”

“Yes. Well, his people believed him to be all powerful, not so much as what people are praying to you. As the Sunshot alliance chipped down on his people, so too did they chip down on Wen Ruohan’s power.”

“So if people stop praying to me, I’ll stop being immortal.”

“Yes and no. Right now, there’s just a mass of energy concentrated there. It’s basically unrefined energy. All you have to do is refine that power into a core and cultivate normally. Otherwise, yes. You will lose this power as soon as people stop praying to you.”

“I see.......”

Wen Qing raises an eyebrow and brandishes her needles. “What are you doing just sitting here? Go and cultivate!”

“Aiya, Qing-jie! I’m in shock here, give me a moment to absorb this all!”

“I have patients to see! Get your ass to your room and cultivate!”

“Are you my mom or something?”

Wen Qing’s expression turns thunderous.

Wei Wuxian didn’t want to provoke her any further despite wanting to banter more and left to his room.

..................................

“You should visit your siblings.” Wen Qing says one day. “And Hanguang-Jun. I want to hear about how A’ Yuan is doing.”

“Where did this come from?”

“Wei Wuxian.” Wen Qing says patiently. “It’s been over a decade. Your name and our name has long since been cleared. People no longer hate you. And.....they miss you. Your siblings have commemorated the day you “died” and go into mourning for that day. Hanguang-Jun is a little subtler but he wears a mourning sash now.”

“They’ll be better off without me.”

“Says who?”

“The rest of the world.” Wei Wuxian says weakly.

“And why should you care for their opinion? You never seemed to mind it.”

“Ummm.....Lan Zhan hates me? Jiang Cheng might resent me? And Shij---Jiang-guniang---the Young Madam Jin has a life already.”

“First, if Hanguang-Jun hates you, why would he frequently glare at people who badmouthed you?”

“Because he’s a good person. How do you know this anyway?”

“I have friends. Try again. Hanguang-Jun is a famously reticent person. Would he do this for every person?”

“.........I don’t know.”

“The answer is no.”

Wei Wuxian pouts.

Wen Qing then begins to tell him how Jiang Cheng frequently takes demonic cultivators back with him in hopes that one of them would be Wei Wuxian and even added Wei Wuxian back to the Jiang sect register. Jiang Yanli smiles while ruthlessly talking people into apologizing every time she hears something bad said about Wei Wuxian.

She even lectures him on his feelings towards Lan Wangji, that he would entrust A’ Yuan to him.

Wen Qing closes off her speech with threats of her needles if Wei Wuxian doesn’t get his ass over there.

“There’s a Discussion Conference at Lotus Pier. Wei Wuxian, wait till they’re done and go meet them.”

Wei Wuxian, sufficiently threatened, hightails it back to what was his home.

.......

Wei Wuxian also decidedly forgets that he was supposed to wait for the Conference to end. Well, he had assumed that they would be done considering the empty state of the area in front of the conference room and stupidly bursts through the door to a room full of people.

Wei Wuxian blinks, “Uhh......”

“Wei Wuxian?!”

“Wei Ying?!”

“A’ Xian?!”

Wei Wuxian tittered from side to side, “Hello, all! I bet you thought I was dead! Well, you guessed wrong! Hahaha......”

..............................

Lan Wangji did not know what this time’s discussion conference would be like. He expected Jin Guangshan to try and subtly slander Wei Ying. He expected Jiang Yanli, Jiang Wanyin and himself to stand up for Wei Ying, as he was unable to do before Wei Ying died.

But he certainly didn’t expect Wei Ying, who he thought was dead, burst into the room.

Everyone was silent as soon as they heard Wei Ying speak, but soon burst into a cacophony of noise.

Continuing the Discussion Conference was futile after that and it was quickly closed. Lan Wangji watched Wei Ying be surrounded by many people, some crying, some happily angry, some exasperated and he couldn’t help his reaction after seeing him once again.

He rushes forward and hugs him.

“Wha--Lan Zhan?”

“You’re alive.” Lan Wangji breathes, voice full of wonder. “You’re alive.”

Wei Ying’s arms come up around him and Lan Wangji feels the strong heart beat through their robes. His elders yell at him for his shamelessness and he comes back to himself, embarrassed at his lack of control.

“Aww, Lan Zhan! I’m so glad you missed me!”

“Mn. Missed Wei Ying a lot.”

A slight blush rose to Wei Ying’s cheeks and he laughed, a little shy. Lan Wangji couldn’t help his response to hearing his laugh again after so, so long. He kissed him.

The crowd gasped around them and Lan Wangji pulled back quickly, wanting the ground to swallow him up. But then......Wei Ying kissed him back.

“Aiya, Lan Zhan. How bold of you! To steal a kiss from me in public!” He giggles, not seeming mad at all and even pressing forward, tangling his fingers in his forehead ribbon.

Lan Wangji’s breath stutters at the gesture.

“You’d better take responsibility!”

Is Wei Ying asking what I think he’s asking? “Responsibility?”

“Yes! You took a kiss from me in public! It looks like I can’t marry anymore.”

“Will marry Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji replies, voice hoarse, ignoring the cries of outrage from his elders, the angry shouts from Jiang Wanyin, and the smirks from Jiang Yanli and his brother. “Will take responsibility.”

“I hope that isn’t the only reason.”

This is his chance to come clean. Lan Wangji already told himself that he wouldn’t hold himself back if he met Wei Ying again. “Like Wei Ying. Love Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying laughs brightly. “I like Lan Zhan too. Now, you’ll finally admit we’re close?”

Lan Wangji ignores everyone, eyes only on Wei Ying as they should have always been, “Mn. Let’s get married.”

___________________________

I feel like Lan Wangji may be a bit OOC......hmm. Well, whatever. I finally got this done and with that, I think I’ve cleared all the prompts I haven’t answered, so asks will open up again!

Hope you all enjoyed this!

[amedetoiles]

@suibian-chenqing​ ME TOOOO!!! It is my ultimate endgame in any version of cql/mdzs. Just Lotus Pier in some way, shape, or form being the home where everyone returns to.

So please consider a universe where everyone makes better choices, has healthier conflict resolution skills à la conversations over soup, and lives happily ever after. Hear me out:

We all know that the chaotic Jiang disciples are the unsung heroes of the story, always merrily dragging their grumpy grape sect leader from danger and picking up after his dramatically discarded capes across various parts of the country.

What if after that staged fight while Jiang Cheng angrily copes with brozilla wedding planning (they hear him crying yelling multiple times at all the notebooks full of wedding ideas Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng have jotted down over the years), they decide that this is just not conducive to the happiness of their two favorite Young Masters?

Or equally important, the continuation of their beloved tradition of monthly Lotus Pier lake parties. A Jiang pool party without their resident chaos king and undisputed champion for the highest caliber splash swan dives? This Will Not Stand!

Obviously it is their Duty and their Right as the protectors and purveyors of Jiang culture for a few of them to secretly stow away while Jiang Cheng is having an epic meltdown over fabric.

“800 thread count? Are you out of your goddamn minds? My only sister, and you expect us to throw her a wedding with disgraceful eight hundred thread count fabric?! Do we Jiangs look like barbarians to you?!”

The Jiang disciples go to Yiling, rush up the Burial Mounds, and shout very convincingly, “Da-shixiong! Da-shixiong! Zongzhu, he – he –”

Wei Wuxian, war-torn, living with ten thousand ghosts, and constantly on edge, panics immediately, jumps to the absolute worst conclusion, and doesn’t even clarify before he rushes down the mountain because oh god, oh god, no, not again, didn’t he leave so his siblings would be safe, didn’t he promise to keep Jiang Cheng safe?????

Wen Qing warily agrees to come along because they clearly now have this well-established ongoing unspoken agreement to constantly save each other’s little brothers.

If the Jiang disciples have caught Jiang Cheng brooding over a pretty redwood comb wrapped in a silk handkerchief more than once, then they don’t say anything. Just share silent looks of glee when no one is watching.

By the time they reach Lotus Pier, Wei Wuxian has worked himself up into such a state of frenzy that he bursts through the doors of Lotus Pier like a black thundercloud of overprotective fury and worry, screaming, “JIANG CHENG! JIANG CHENG!”

.... Jiang Cheng is sitting on the floor of the Sword Hall, surrounded by a mountain of square fabric samples, with bits of thread stuck in his hair, totally gobsmacked at the sight of his windswept big brother.

Wei Wuxian, still panicked, falls to the floor in front of him, grabs Jiang Cheng by the arms before he can even react, and frantically checks him over. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened – I thought –”

Jiang Cheng stares at him. Wei Wuxian blinks. The Jiang disciples have all conveniently disappeared.

Behind them, Wen Qing heaves a big sigh, slow and long through pursed lips. She bows respectfully, says “I will be outside,” and gets the fuck out of there.

There is a tense silence. Wei Wuxian realizes he’s been tricked, but he is so overcome with relief after all that soul-crushing fear that he doesn’t even get mad, just sags forward with his face in Jiang Cheng’s chest as the adrenaline leaves him all at once. He pretends he’s not shaking.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know if he wants to shove Wei Wuxian away, hug him back, or wrap him in as many blankets as he can possibly find until a-jie comes home. He does none of those, just demands, half-strangled, half-something-like-worry, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“They said – I thought you were in trouble or – or –”

[long pause] “You – came all the way here shouting like a possessed lunatic because you thought I was in trouble?”

Wei Wuxian hunches a little defensively and starts to move away. “Of course I did.” He makes sure to add, with emphasis, “Idiot.”

It doesn’t matter if Jiang Cheng can’t make up his mind because apparently his hands can, and they grip both of Wei Wuxian’s elbows to keep his brother from pulling away. They stare at one another.

”You said you didn’t want anything to do with the Jiang sect.”

Wei Wuxian looks away, grumbling. “How else was I supposed to keep you and shijie safe? Besides, you’re the one who stabbed me.” He is very pouty about this.

Jiang Cheng, immediately incensed and indignant, shouts, “You broke my arm! I had to be in a cast for a whole month!”

An almost smile flashes over Wei Wuxian’s face. “Hey, it was only your left arm. You were still able to write.”

Jiang Cheng glares at him and shoves his shoulder. Wei Wuxian instinctively shoves him back. They stare. Wei Wuxian scrubs his face tiredly with his hands. Jiang Cheng has to push away the urge to motherhen with blankets again.

He says, “I never asked you to protect me.”

Wei Wuxian gives him a look. “I don’t need to be asked.”

Jiang Cheng grits his teeth. “I don’t want you to protect me, idiot.”

Wei Wuxian heaves a very resigned sigh. “Then what do you want?”

Several answers come up, all too serious and too revealing without the support of a-jie’s soup and copious amount of alcohol. So Jiang Cheng just throws a handful of fabric samples at Wei Wuxian’s face. “Help me pick through these until a-jie comes home. You should have fucking heard Jin Zixuan’s suggestions last week. If we let the peacock plan a-jie’s wedding, it’s going to be an absolute disaster.”

Wei Wuxian’s smile this time is real and genuine and lasts the entire afternoon of bickering over fabric squares until Jiang Yanli rushes into the pavilion with many Jiang disciples in tow and hugs both her brothers for the first time in months. They manage to not horribly cry all over each other.

Jiang Yanli insists Wen Qing has dinner with them. There’s plenty of soup after all. Jiang Cheng is awkwardly stiff and doesn’t look Wen Qing in the eye the entire time, and Wei Wuxian pokes him repeatedly with silent  what the hell is wrong with you.

They talk about growing turnips, purifying rice wine, that the scariest thing about Wen Ning is his ability to create a disturbingly large variety of dishes from turnips, and how Wei Wuxian has essentially adopted baby A-Yuan as his own.

Later, Jiang Yanli tells Wen Qing, with a smile, her eyes alight like a flame, that she will take care of it. Wen Qing has no idea what this means. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian share a look as only little brothers with intimate knowledge of their big sister’s stubbornness could and wisely choose to remain silent.

Jiang Yanli enlists the help of both Jin Zixuan and Madam Jin and somehow does indeed take care of it.

Many back door conversations occur between Jiang, Jin, Lan, and Nie sects. Jin Zixuan is the sole Jin representative. Nie Mingjue is initially leery but comes at the behest of Huaisang and Xichen.

At some point, Wen Ning tells Wei Wuxian that if they are going to do this, then it’s best if they have no more secrets. Wei Wuxian glares and tries to pretend that he has no idea what he is talking about, but neither Jiang Yanli nor Jiang Cheng allow Wei Wuxian to run away this time.

There is an emotional golden core reveal, followed by an equally emotional I didn’t go back for their bodies, with lots of shouting, shoving, crying, and clinging. In the aftermath, the Jiang siblings form an even stronger co-dependent unit around each other.

Jiang Yanli coordinates with Lan Xichen (and a begrudgingly cooperative Jiang Cheng) to bring Lan Wangji to Lotus Pier to help Wei Wuxian control his powers. Wangxian are desperately cute, and Jiang Cheng makes pointed gagging sounds whenever he’s around them that leads to several incidents of lake shoving, an excitable gaggle of Jiang disciples swan diving into the water after them, and a very, very confused Lan.

In the end, Wei Wuxian refuses to hand over the Stygian Tiger Seal to any of the sects, but he does agree to destroy it if Wen Qing, Wen Ning, and the remaining Wens are granted clemency and allowed to live freely without persecution. Jiang, Lan, and Nie sects agree.

Jin Guangshan tries to make an uproar, but in a surprising turn of events, Jin Guangyao (grateful for Jiang Yanli’s non-judgmental kindness over the past year) reveals all of his father’s treacherous secrets, including ordering the slaughter of Wen civilians, pardoning and releasing Xue Yang, and purposefully fueling the mob against Wei Wuxian to acquire the seal for himself. Jin Guangshan is shamed, sentenced, and dies imprisoned some months later.

Jin Zixuan formally recognizes his newly renamed brother Jin Ziyao.

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian decide that their sister is even scarier than they had believed.

The Wens leave the Burial Mounds and build a small village together in Yiling where they branch into farming non-turnip crops much to the delight of Wei Wuxian. Jiang disciples are dispatched to help with the construction of several buildings, including one extremely beautiful apothecary. Jiang Cheng is seen in Yiling fairly regularly.

Jin Zixun, the most vocal opponent against the pardons for Wei Wuxian and the Wens, tragically falls off a cliff one day. Sect Leader Yao tries to pin it on Wei Wuxian, but Jiang Cheng shuts him down with scathing ferocity.

Someone also puts a Silencing Spell on Sect Leader Yao and keeps it going. Every Lan swears it was not them and thus cannot remove the spell. It lasts for two glorious months. Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji get along disturbingly well from that point on.

Wei Wuxian is there when Jiang Yanli gets married in a magnificent splendor of red and gold. He is there to see Jin Ling born, to watch Jiang Cheng tie a purple bell to their nephew’s robes, and to gift little A-Ling a bracelet on his first month birthday. He is there to watch Jiang Cheng rebuild their sect with unending grit, respect, and loyalty. He is there to see Jin Ling and A-Yuan grow up underneath a sky he helped clear, loved and adored by all the different parts of their family. And some years after he and Lan Wangji are happily married, Wei Wuxian is there when his little brother dons red robes and bows to the heavens, to the earth, and to a woman with a redwood comb in her hair whose life became entwined with theirs so very long ago.

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

I found this on Instagram and honestly, I wanna ask why???? One would think that threatening your supposed brother with his worst fear would be enough for people to understand that JC is not a good person

"Well well, the YiLing Laozu has died? Who was the one to kill him?”

“Who would have other than his shidi, Jiang Cheng, he put an end to his own brother for the greater good. (Jiang Cheng certainly DID tell the world this even though the seal was what ended Wei Wuxian).

Jiang Cheng led the Sects YunmengJiang (He also DID do this since he knew exactly where the wen settlement was and slaughtered civilian Wens with The Jins), LanlingJin, GusuLan, and QingheNie (Now, we all know as the story tells us these other two were in the wings compared to the leading forces) to destroy his hole, at Burial Mound.”

However, there was a nagging thought which stayed in the back of everyone’s mind; Nobody could summon Wei WuXian’s fragmented soul, though he had died at Burial Mound.

Perhaps it had been torn apart by the thousands of ghosts that devoured him. (Cue Wei Wuxian "let's make one thing clear, I killed me thank you")

Or, just maybe, it had escaped. (Cue Q-conspiracy Jiang Cheng "WEI WUXIAN I'LL FIND YOUR SOUL AND DESTROY IT)

If it was the first, then all was well. Nobody doubted the fact that the YiLing Laozu had the power to move mountains and empty seas. But, if it escaped, his soul would eventually return to be reborn, or possess a body. If that day came, the cultivation world, the whole world, would be faced with the most crazed damnations and vengeance, sinking into nothing but chaos and blood. (Oh hey look early foreshadowing for Jiang Cheng's M.O. for a whole thirteen years because he went obsessive).

To add on to that point above:

A moment ago, Jiang Cheng was certain that this person was Wei WuXian, and all of the blood in his body started to boil. Yet, now, Zidian was clearly telling him that he wasn’t. Zidian definitely wouldn’t deceive him or make a mistake, so he quickly calmed himself and thought, this doesn’t mean anything. I should first find an excuse to take him back and use every possible method to get information out of him. It’s impossible for him to not confess anything or give himself away. I’ve done things like this in the past anyways. After thinking it through, he made a gesture. The disciples understood his intentions and came over. (Jiang Cheng in his own head, in his own MIND says he is gonna set his disciples to drag away someone he suspects of being Wei Wuxian and has done this before enough times for his disciples to know the gig and let him torture away at Lotus Pier. THE MAN SAID IT HIMSELF AND MADE IT FACT AS LAN JINGYI DAYS LATER AND IS NOTORIOUS FOR BEING A PSYCHO TORTURER OF RANDOS).

That infamous meeting:

Wei WuXian immediately raised his head, “I haven’t forgotten! It’s just that…”

Yet, he just couldn’t find the right words to put after it.

Jiang Cheng interrupted, “It’s just what? You can’t say it? Don’t worry, you can go back to Lotus Pier and say your excuses while kneeling in front of my parents’ graves.” (YEAH GEEZ, just wants TEA with his estranged cut off Shixiong not brother and never was a brother cause martial is not the damn same as relatives, never mind that Wei Wuxian doesn't want that and definitely doesn't want to after Jiang Cheng insults Lan Wangji's entire person.)

Bonus:

Seeing Jiang Cheng turn around, Wei WuXian immediately pulled a mixed expression of “ I’m so shocked, my secret has been disclosed,” and “what do I do now that Wen Ning has been found”. Jin Ling was actually quite clever. Knowing that Jiang Cheng hated Wen Ning more than anything, he made up such a smooth lie with the previous knowledge he had. Jiang Cheng knew that the YiLing Laozu and the Ghost General often appeared together, so he already suspected that Wen Ning was in the area. Having heard Jin Ling’s words, he was already mostly convinced, and Wei WuXian’s expression convinced him even further. On top of that, he burst into a fury whenever he heard the mention of Wen Ning’s name. With his eyes blinded by wrath, how could he still have doubted? The hostility that built in his chest was almost making him explode. He flicked his whip, hitting the ground beside Wei WuXian, and spoke through clenched teeth, “You really take that obedient dog of yours everywhere, don’t you?!” (Jin Ling coming in with that "Yeah, my Jiujiu is crazy but I know how to take advantage of that to save you." You go Jin Ling, four for Jin Ling.)

Wei WuXian spoke, “He’s been dead for a long time, and I’ve died once as well. What else do you want?!”

Jiang Cheng pointed the whip at him, “So what? My hatred would persist, even if he dies thousands of times! He didn’t perish back then. Very well! I shall destroy him today, with my own hands. I’m going to burn him right now, and scatter his ashes right in front of your face!” (In the eternal words of Jiang Cheng "Can I not just hate you?" And everyone else who loves you and befriends you too because I blame you for choosing them over me and will choose to hurt them out of spite and jealousy.)

Keep in mind this is only book one still and Wei Wuxian has already put his full trust in Lan Wangji even before Lan Wangji ends the identity farce himself:

He had always thought that Jiang Cheng would be on his side, and Lan WangJi on the one opposite to him. He could never have imagined that things would turn out so differently. (Do I really have to elaborate that Wei Wuxian doesn't want Jiang Cheng by his side anymore? Or even trust him.)

And in contrast to Jiang Cheng's crazed reaction and when Lan Wangji is reunited with Wei Wuxian:

However, having taken only one step back, his ankle twisted, and he seemed as if he almost collapsed on the ground. With a change in expression, Lan WangJi hurried over and tightly gripped his wrist like what he did last time, back in Dafan Mountain. After Wei WuXian had been steadied, Lan WangJi knelt down on one knee to examine his leg. Wei WuXian was rather shocked, “N-n-no, HanGuang-Jun. You don’t have to do this.”

Lan WangJi raised his head slightly, the pair of light-colored eyes boring into him, then looked down again and continued to roll up the leg of his trousers. Still under his grip, Wei WuXian could do nothing except to look up at the sky.

His entire leg was covered with the black bruise of the Curse Mark.

After staring at it for a while, Lan WangJi spoke in a bitter voice, “… I only left for a few hours.”

Wei WuXian shrugged, “A few hours is a long time. Anything could have happened. There, there. Straighten up.” (Hanguang-Jun is SO MEAN, keeping innocent little Jiang Cheng from Wei Wuxian, who he was never hurt physically, ever in his life. Stop being dramatic Lan Wangji!)

In conclusion insta:

[ibijau]

You’re a marked man, brother, part 2 / also on AO3

Lan Xichen prepares to go rescue Nie Mingjue, and finds himself accepting help he wouldn't have considered an option

Lan Xichen stumbled at having his fears confirmed, and had to support himself against the trunk of a half dead tree. 

Nie Mingjue was his oldest friend, one he had made before either of them ascended, just like Jin Guangyao. In fact, because all three of them had ascended after being so close as mortals, because they had become even closer after ascending, there were a few temples where the three of them were worshipped together as the San-Zun, three brothers either by oath or blood depending on versions. 

None of them were quite brothers. Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao, tied by a red thread of fate, were married. Lan Xichen had no closer friend than Nie Mingjue. As for Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao, the first often insisted they call each other as brothers, even though Jin Guangyao worried it was disrespectful since he used to be Nie Mingjue’s servant, but this was just a manner of address.

To think of Nie Mingjue falling in the power of the Magpie King was a frightful thing. Aside from the reputations the Magpie King had gleefully destroyed in the past, it was also said that he had pushed countless people to madness, sometimes to the point they would kill themselves. He was not someone to take lightly. 

If it had been anyone else involved, Lan Xichen might have been curious to see how the fight would go between a ghost king who only used indirect means, and a martial god who refused any trickery. In truth, he might not have bet on the god. But since it was Nie Mingjue who was doing this foolish thing, Lan Xichen had to believe that he could win… or better yet, that he could be stopped before meeting his adversary. 

"A-Yao, how long ago did he leave?" Lan Xichen asked through the array. 

"Early this morning, shortly after us."

Lan Xichen wanted to curse. After this long, anything might have happened.

"Do you know where he might have gone? I didn't think we even knew where the Magpie King lives." 

"I will be asking his lieutenants right away," Jin Guangyao promised. "From what I’ve heard, he seemed to have a particular place in mind when he left.” He paused. “Xichen, you're thinking of going to his rescue, aren't you?"

"I am," Lan Xichen confirmed. Now that the initial shock had gone, he pulled away from the tree that had supported him and stood straight. Of course he had to go help Nie Mingjue. He feared nothing from the Magpie King after all, so he was the most suited for this. The only secret he'd ever kept was that old flame he'd never quite forgotten, and it was not something he was ashamed of, so it could not be used against him. "Will you come as well, A-Yao?" 

The answer didn't come right away, which was no real surprise. Jin Guangyao, as a mortal, had been the son of a prostitute and a married man, he had done several menial jobs in his life before eventually becoming a mere servant in Nie Mingjue's household, where his fortunes had finally changed. Because he had been relentlessly shamed for his origins as a mortal, he didn't want them revealed as a god. 

If they went against the Magpie King, this might become discovered and turned against him. 

"I cannot really fight," Jin Guangyao point out with a sigh. "So I don't know what good I would be to you and da-ge."

"You'd be my good luck charm," Lan Xichen replied. "Things always go smoother when you're here, don't they? But if really you'd rather not…" 

"I owe this to da-ge," Jin Guangyao said, his voice a little firmer. "And maybe you'll need my luck indeed, against such a character. Fine, I'll start gathering information, hurry home so we can go quickly."

Lan Xichen nodded, even though his husband couldn't have seen him. He turned to look back at the Burial Mound which he'd only just left, and frowned. 

"A-Yao, I will be out of reach again for a little while," he announced. "I want to see if Wangji might agree to come help, and if his husband might know anything about the Magpie king's domain."

Even though he wasn't there, Lan Xichen could just picture the frown on Jin Guangyao's face.

"That doesn't sound too wise. What if those two Devastations are working together? Just because Wangji married this Yiling Patriach doesn't make him trustworthy." 

"Then I'd still like for Wangji to come along, it'd be safer." 

For one thing, Lan Wangji was a strong fighter, definitely the stronger god in the entire Middle Court. But more importantly, Lan Xichen was almost certain that his brother had had dealings with the Magpie King before, either in good or bad. Lan Wangji wouldn't confirm it, but he wouldn't deny it either, possibly because he wasn't sure himself.

Having made up his mind, Lan Xichen ended the communication with his husband and hurried back to the Burial Mounds. The ghost village was far more lively now that night had fallen, but Lan Xichen ignored all the ghouls and monsters to head right for the gate of the Mounds themselves. He feared, at first, that he would be unable to cross the barrier, but to his relief Wei Wuxian had given him a permanent welcome. Then it was only a manner of walking up the mountain, passing through the other village that existed there, and stopping before the foreboding Demon Slaughtering Cave where the Devastation lived. 

"Wei Wuxian ! Lan Wangji! I must speak to you right away!" Lan Xichen called out from the entrance of the cave. 

He had to shout this way for a while before at last the two men came out of the cave. Judging by their hastily thrown on clothes and their annoyed looks, Lan Xichen guessed he might have interrupted something. He was sorry for them, but this was an emergency and their fun had to wait. 

"More of Nie Mingjue's temples have been attacked," Lan Xichen told his brother. "He has gone to confront the person who did this, but I am worried this might go wrong and I wish to stop him or rescue him. Would you come with me, Wangji?" 

"Who did it?" Lan Wangji asked. 

Lan Xichen hesitated and glanced at Wei Wuxian, unsure how much to say. Before he could decide on that, Wei Wuxian laughed. 

"I know it's not me, because my location is well known and Nie Mingjue would already be there," he guessed. "If it were a mortal or an ordinary ghost, you wouldn't have any reasons to worry, not with Chifeng-Zun's reputation. So that means it's the Magpie King, hm?" 

"You came to that conclusion really fast," Lan Xichen noted. 

Wei Wuxian laughed again. 

"You got me! The truth is, that rumour has been going around for a few days, I just wasn't sure it was worth mentionning. But really... aside from the Magpie King, who'd ever be bold enough to anger the Martial God of the North? And you didn't deny it, so you also think it was him, don't you?" 

Lan Xichen gave Wei Wuxian a long look, trying to decide how to answer. 

"This time the crimes were signed," he explained. "But just as some people tried to make you take the blame, maybe some of the Magpie King's enemies would like to get him in a tight spot. And even if he was innocent up to this point, once Nie Mingjue attacks him, the Magpie King will have to retaliate, it's only natural." 

Wei Wuxian smiled, and leaned against Lan Wangji's side who wrapped an arm around his waist. 

"I think I like you, Zewu-Jun," he said, scratching his nose. "I think I wouldn't mind helping you, except… well, it could also be the Magpie King's own doing," he said with a grimace, "and in that case Nie Mingjue must have done something to deserve his hatred. So I'd rather my husband and I stay out of this." 

It made sense of course. Since they were of similar rank, Wei Wuxian and the Magpie King probably had as much power. But one had had centuries to improve his craft, while the other was still only starting to figure out what he could do. Unless provoked, Wei Wuxian wouldn't want to aggrieve his fellow ghost king. And yet… 

"I know the Magpie King cannot be behind this, because I know Nie Mingjue," Lan Xichen claimed. "In the past, victims of the Magpie King were always those who accomplished dark deeds in secret and tried to hide it. But Nie Mingjue isn't a man who keeps secrets. The good and the bad, he is upfront about it. How could such a man catch the interest of the Magpie King?"

"Maybe you don't know him as well as you think," Wei Wuxian said. 

"I know Nie Mingjue as well as I know myself," Lan Xichen insisted. He turned to look at Lan Wangji. "You know him too, and you know the restrictions imposed by his cultivation method. There's a reason no one else from his sect ever ascended. The sabre path only works for one who is fully honest and open. If Nie Mingjue lied, don't you think Baxia would turn against him, as such weapons always do?"

Lan Wangji nodded, but still looked at his husband with a forlorn air, as if to say even if it was unfair, he wouldn't act unless Wei Wuxian agreed. Lan Xichen couldn’t decide if it was endearing to see his brother so whipped, or a little infuriating.

Considering the circumstances, he leaned toward the second.

“Is Chifeng-Zun’s sabre really such a mighty weapon then?” Wei Wuxian asked in a tone betraying great curiosity. Considering with what enthusiasm he'd spoken of testing his new powers that afternoon, it was no surprise. 

Wei Wuxian was something of a cultivation nerd, Lan Xichen suspected. 

“Baxia, once unsheathed, will not stand for dishonesty,” Lan Xichen confirmed. “I have seen sabres turn against their masters, back when that branch of cultivation was still in use among mortals. But of course, you may choose not to believe me, and to still think Nie Mingjue hides dark secrets.”

“It’s not an ideal situation,” Wei Wuxian sighed after some consideration. “Of course, I trust Lan Zhan, who trusts you, and you in turn trust Chifeng-Zun… but I don’t know if I should trust Nie Mingjue just because I trust Lan Zhan, if you follow me?”

“Then I will not insist,” Lan Xichen said, bowing before the other two. “Thank you for at least listening to me, but I will go now before it is too late. And don’t worry, Wangji. I understand your position is difficult. If you asked me to do something A-Yao disapproves of, I do not know what I would choose.”

This appeared to comfort Lan Wangji, who looked a little less miserable upon hearing that his brother wasn’t angry at him. Lan Xichen sighed, actually somewhat annoyed that his brother was choosing his new husband over an old acquaintance, and turned away from the young couple. Before he’d taken three steps, Wei Wuxian called out his name.

“Zewu-Jun, I’ve changed my mind, we’re coming!” he said, starting to straighten his clothes. “If Chifeng-Zun is really as honourable as you say, I’m curious for a chance to meet him. If he’s guilty of something, then I’m curious as well, because his reputation is really excellent and I wonder what the Magpie King might have against him.”

Lan Xichen’s face showed no emotions, but inwardly he grimaced.

“You don’t have to come as well, it’s fine if it's only Lan Wangji.”

“Nonsense. Look, Lan Zhan badly wants to go, it’s clear,” Wei Wuxian said, pointing at his husband impassible face. “So it’d be cruel to stop him. But also I’m not leaving my husband when we’ve just started our honeymoon! Poor Lan Zhan would miss me, right?”

With a shamelessness that shocked his brother, Lan Wangji nodded in answer to that question, which in turn made Wei Wuxian grin and kiss his cheek.

Lan Xichen could only stare at those two, a little unsure how to feel about such open displays of affection. Even when Jin Guangyao and him had just gotten together, they’d never behaved in that manner, least of all in public. But of course, Lan Xichen and his husband had always behaved more like an old couple who no longer needed constant affection, even as newlyweds. Nie Mingjue used to tease them about that, just as mercilessly as he would have teased him if they’d been holding hands and cuddling the way Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were doing.

“Then let’s leave the Burial Mounds and go somewhere I can contact A-Yao,” Lan Xichen sighed, wondering how his husband would react to the company of Wei Wuxian, since he’d taken the first possible excuse to leave that morning. “Hopefully, he’ll have found some information to help us stop Mingjue from making trouble.”

After Wei Wuxian had a quick chat with the pair of ghostly siblings he’d picked as his lieutenants so they’d keep everything in order while he was gone, the three of them went down the mountain and contacted Jin Guangyao again. For the occasion, Lan Xichen invited his brother and brother-in-law into his private communication array, though he made a note he might change the password after this was over. He still didn't know what to make of Wei Wuxian, and didn't want to be too accessible just yet. 

“A-Yao, are you free to talk?” Lan Xichen asked into the array. “Wangji and Wei Wuxian are with me, they’ll both be coming to help.”

“Is that so?” Jin Guangyao asked in that very polite tone he only used when he thought someone was stupid but he wasn’t in a position to openly say so. “Then I suppose I thank the Yiling Patriarch for offering his help in this matter, it is very kind of him.”

Next to Lan Xichen, Wei Wuxian grinned. He knew he wasn’t wanted, but it didn’t seem to particularly bother him. Of course, being what he was, he probably was used to being undesired.

“Have you learned anything about where Nie Mingjue might have gone?” Lan Xichen hastily asked, still unsure himself if he wanted Wei Wuxian there.

“Among the temples attacked, one of them was a San-Zun temple,” Jin Guangyao said. “And in that one, the Magpie King claimed that he had had enough of liars and murderers, and challenged da-ge to come meet him in a certain mountain range near Qinghe, if he dared.

Lan Xichen gasped, and exchanged a glance with Lan Wangji who looked just as stunned as him, in his understated manner.

Back when he was mortal, Nie Mingjue used to live in Qinghe, as did all his family. Although nobody else survived who shared blood with him, Qinghe was a place of special attachment to him, and he still considered it his home. To challenge him in a place so dear to him was a hard blow on his pride, so it made sense that he had run there right away.

"A mountain range? Xinglu Ridge?" Wei Wuxian asked, a deep frown on his face. 

"Have you heard of it?" Lan Xichen asked. 

The area was notoriously haunted. It had been even when Lan Xichen was mortal, to the point Nie Mingjue and him had gone there sometimes to fight demons. Of course back then, the Magpie King wasn't around yet, and wouldn't be for nearly another century.

Wei Wuxian grimaced. "If that's his lair, then I've definitely met the Magpie King in the past. Back when I was still alive, a ghost of some power told me to come to Xinglu Ridge if I needed help. Never did, and I died soon after anyway, but still, it's funny!" 

Funny was definitely not what Lan Xichen would have had to say about this situation. For a ghost king to have dared make his home so close to the place a martial god as powerful as Nie Mingjue favoured so much… it was really bold.

"If you prefer to let us deal with this alone, I will understand," Lan Xichen said. "If you have debts or loyalties to honour, of course those have priority."

"No, I'm still coming," Wei Wuxian replied. "If there was a misunderstanding, I owe it to that person to prevent any unnecessary fighting. And if there's a reason for him to attack Nie Mingjue… ahah, then that man will need help! He's good at underhanded things, but a child could slap him and he'd faint."

"I'm not sure I want you to come along if you might turn against us," Lan Xichen objected. 

"I'll only pick my side when I'm sure which one is the just one. You've said Nie Mingjue is a righteous and honest man, so there's nothing to fear, right?" 

There was just a hint of malice in Wei Wuxian's voice, giving the impression that it might entertain him to see a god exposed for crimes of any sort. But of course, no truly good person would have become a ghost king, would they? And if there were crimes to be exposed, Lan Xichen too would have to side against his friend, since justice was to be ranked above affection. 

Still, he wasn't sure how much he liked Wei Wuxian. Couldn't Lan Wangji have picked someone a little less difficult as his partner? 

“A-Yao, have you heard anything else that might be interesting?” Lan Xichen asked.

“No, I’m afraid not,” Jin Guangyao sighed, sounding truly sorry that he didn’t have more information to share. “If we’re going to Qinghe, then let’s meet at the San-Zun temple there, shall we? How soon can you be there?”

“I’ll draw us a Distance Shortening array,” Wei Wuxian offered. “It’ll take us right to the temple, so we can be there in less than an incense stick’s time.”

“Then I shall head out immediately as well,” Jin Guangyao said. 

"A-Yao, since this could be dangerous, take one of your fans with you,” Lan Xichen suggested. “I'll do my best to protect you in case of trouble, but I'd feel safer if you had your own weapon as well." 

There was a brief moment of silence, and Lan Xichen could just picture the long suffering look on his husband’s face.

"It might be safer," Jin Guangyao reluctantly agreed. "Da-ge will never let me hear the end of this, but… fine, I'll take one. I’ll see you in a moment, Xichen."

With this, Jin Guangyao left the array. Immediately Wei Wuxian produced a stick of cinnabar and started drawing right on the floor, in the middle of the road. Lan Xichen watched him work with some puzzlement.

“Shouldn’t we find a door for this?”

“No, it’s fine, this works as well,” Wei Wuxian explained, drawing in a lackadaisical manner. “It takes a little more energy to do it that way, but it’s really easy when you know how, and there’s rarely any problems.”

“Rarely… so there can be problems?”

Wei Wuxian cackled as he added a few finishing touches to his array.

“Well, sure. Hey, Lan Zhan, remember that time we accidentally ended up on a boat because I’d messed up a character?”

Lan Wangji nodded, the barest hint of a smile on his lips. “Hm. Wei Ying has improved,” he noted, either to flatter his husband or comfort his brother. And Lan Xichen certainly needed a little comfort, because he did not want to end up in the wrong place when Nie Mingjue was in danger.

Meanwhile Wei Wuxian laughed again. “True, it was only the second time I’d used it, and the first time I had another person with me, so of course it wasn’t very stable.” He stood up and wiped his hands on his robes while admiring his robe. “Yes, this one should be quite good. They’re a lot easier to control since becoming a Devastation, and can go further away too. Maybe when this is dealt with I should test how far I can make them go. Fancy a proper honeymoon, Lan Zhan?”

“Hm. If Wei Ying wants,” Lan Wangji earnestly replied.

Lan Xichen had to look away. To a stranger, his brother’s answer might have passed for cold, but to him Lan Wangji might as well have been giggling like a schoolgirl whose crush had winked at her.

“Let’s get going then,” Lan Xichen said with a cough. “I’d rather not make A-Yao worry by being late.”

“Sure, sure,” Wei Wuxian agreed. “Come here, Zewu-Jun. I’ll need to be touching both of you, so if you could both give me your arms… perfect. Then we all step on it together. On my count, one, two, three!”

Lan Xichen diligently obeyed, stepping forward when he was told. One moment he was in the desolate lands that surrounded the sinister Burial Mounds, with nothing but a slim moon to give some light. The next he was standing in a busy street where people walked around in spite of the late hour, with lamps illuminating everything and many smells hanging in the air.

Too many smells, in fact.

That Distance Shortening array had done something to his stomach, and Lan Xichen found himself heaving, trying not to vomit in front of his own temple.

“Yeah, I still don’t know how to deal with that side effect,” Wei Wuxian weakly admitted, leaning against a rather gray-looking Lan Wangji. “But it’s efficient, eh?”

“We’re walking to Xinglu Ridge,” Lan Xichen retorted, unsure he could bear with that sensation twice in a single day.

Wei Wuxian must has felt the same. He didn’t protest at all, and continued leaning on Lan Wangji for a while. Maybe the array had really taken its toll on him, or he just enjoyed the excuse to be shameless. Either way, all three of them promptly entered the temple. Jin Guangyao was waiting for them inside, putting some order to the altar, making sure everything was in its right place and removing the less fresh offerings. He only stopped when he saw the other three, and looked a little embarrassed at being caught doing something like this. Lan Xichen couldn’t help smiling, endeared by his so serious and dedicated husband.

“So that’s how it looks like inside a San-Zun temple,” Wei Wuxian remarked, looking around. “I like it, it’s not too tacky, not like the gods we had back home. Though you really don’t much look like your statues, either of you.”

“Where are you from, if I might ask?” Jin Guangyao asked, ignoring the comments about the statue even though it had to be about him. His personal temples weren’t a problem, but for some reason his statues in San-Zun temples were always way off, which bothered him and made him avoid them.

“Eh, the place doesn’t exist anymore,” Wei Wuxian eluded. “It was one of those places destroyed during the Sunshot Campaign. San-Zun never really caught up back there, not until after the war anyway, but I think Lianfang-Zun is pretty popular over there these days, when it comes to Civil gods.”

“Oh, so you must be from the Yunmeng area?” Jin Guangyao remarked.

Hearing this, Lan Xichen looked at Wei Wuxian with new curiosity. Ghosts tended to be eccentric in their outfits, and to wear clothes from all times of history, sometimes even mixing periods, so he hadn’t really paid attention so far. Now though, looking closely, Wei Wuxian’s clothes were of a style that matched the old Jiang dynasty, as did his hair. He even wore at his belt the type of bell that members of the royal palace used to carry for protection against evil. 

These days the Jiang dynasty had disappeared, replaced by the Jin who had taken over thanks to trouble after the Sunshot Campaign and some advantageous marriages. At the same time as this change of power happened, the Magpie King had attacked certain gods of that area for provoking the Sunshot Campaign in the first place. In the power vacuum that had followed, Jin Guangyao had gained a certain popularity in that region, just because he was lucky enough to bear the same name as the new line of kings.

“I spent some years of my life there,” Wei Wuxian admitted with a dismissive hand gesture. “It was long ago. I don’t think about it too much these days. But enough talk, let’s go rescue your friend, right?”

They left the temple behind, and walked through the streets of Qinghe, in direction of Xinglu ridge. All too soon, Lan Xichen found himself swallowed by a certain nostalgia, one strong enough he wondered if Wei Wuxian’s Distance Shortening array wouldn’t have been better.

Although many centuries had passed, and the city had changed in that time, ultimately it was still the same place it had been in Lan Xichen’s youth. He had never visited for more than a few weeks at a time, following his uncle on business, but those periods had been the happiest of his mortal life. He had spent most of his time there in the company of Nie Mingjue, with later the addition of Jin Guangyao once he had entered the Nie’s service… but he had also spent no small amount of time going around with A-Sang, who knew the city like the back of his hand. 

A-Sang had taken such pride in making Lan Xichen visit a number of little shops, obscure restaurants, and odd small temples to lesser gods, claiming those secret places were so much better than the big famous sights everyone went to. Often enough, Lan Xichen had agreed with that judgement. He’d always found it easy to agree with A-Sang. It had been so pleasant to go along what the younger man wanted. Lan Xichen had never had to regret it, not until the day he’d found out A-Sang, after refusing his offer to rise to the middle court, had been murdered. If only he’d just insisted a little more, if he’d only guessed what was about to happen…

He vaguely remembered that A-Sang’s luck, which had always been great up to that point, had recently started failing him. Shouldn’t it have been a sign his friend couldn’t be left behind? If Lan Xichen had tried harder…

As they left the outskirts of Qinghe, Lan Xichen forced himself to stop thinking about his lost friend. First of all, because it was wrong of him to still be so hung up about that person, when he was happily married to a kind and gentle man who did not deserve to be betrayed, not even in thought. Secondly, because it would be foolish to take a guilty heart into the Magpie King’s territory, where that would surely be turned into a weapon against him.

What had happened in the past was in the past. Lan Xichen, as he was now, was happy, and so there was no sense in holding regrets.

A few hours after leaving Qinghe, they finally reached the foot of Xinglu ridge. Because of the area’s reputation, the road less wasn’t as good as it had been near the city. Even locals didn’t want to go there unless absolutely forced, and as a result they didn’t maintain that path which was muddy and uneven. And yet, on that abandoned road, the four of them eventually encountered a high stone gate, the sort that might be seen as an entry point through a defensive wall, except it stood alone, with nothing but the mountains’ forest on either side and the dirt path under it. There was, however, a guard before that door.

Actually, to call that person a guard was being very generous. The middle aged man, a ghost by the look of it, certainly had a weapon with him. But that sabre had been carelessly abandoned on the ground, and the ghost was just sitting with his back against the gate, squinting over a small book while fanning himself. The fan probably wasn’t his own, Lan Xichen guessed. Everything else about the man gave him away as someone of humble extraction, but the fan was truly beautiful, almost as much so as the ones Nie Mingjue would occasionally force Jin Guangyao to accept.

This really was a pitiful sort of guard, but a dutiful one at least. When he realised that there were people coming, the ghost quickly put away his book and fan, then reached out for his sabre and jumped to his feet. Even like this, though, it was clear he wasn’t suited for his job, his hold on the weapon was all wrong, and his posture so bad Lan Xichen felt tempted to correct it.

“Hey, halt, you can’t come here!” the man exclaimed. “Or else, I’ll have to try to stop you, and nobody will like that!”

“You don’t look like much of a guard,” Wei Wuxian remarked. “You’re barely worth making Lan Zhan unsheathe his sword, you look that pathetic.”

The ghost’s face pinched into a tight expression, as if he were offended by that comment but too self aware to protest, especially when Lan Wangji nodded in agreement.

“Hey, save me some face,” the man grumbled, lowering his sabre a little. “This is my first day on this job, can’t you cut me some slack and come back another day? Everything is already bad enough, the Magpie King will have my head if I also let intruders in!”

“Could it be that there has been a recent intrusion then?” Jin Guangyao asked, sounding sincerely sorry.

The ghost took note of his accent and, thinking this young master might be more sympathetic than grinning Wei Wuxian or cold Lan Wangji, turned all his attention to him.

“Indeed there was, and now we’re all in trouble!” he lamented. “Some god or other managed to come in yesterday, and last I heard he was making his way to the King’s palace! I mean, who would do that? What’s the glory there? He even killed the old guard, you know. Killed him! A poor old ghost who was just waiting for the end of his time serving the King!”

“How very dreadful!” Jin Guangyao agreed, glancing at Lan Xichen.

Nie Mingjue wasn’t particularly bloodthirsty, as far as martial gods went, but he wasn’t a pacifist either. If he thought he was right, and someone tried to stand in his way, no matter how strong or weak they seemed he’d treat them the same and fight with all his might. To do anything less would be an insult to both him and his opponent, he believed.

“Right, right, it’s awful!” the ghost insisted, glad to have found a kind soul to commiserate with him. “His majesty is furious, I’ve heard, and now everyone has to be on high alert!” He paused, looking over his shoulder at the road on the other side of the gate. “Actually, I’m glad I’m not in there. The King has released all sorts of nasty things to slow down that intruder, and even if I know how to get around the traps, I don’t like knowing some of that stuff’s out there. I’m not a warrior, anyway! This wasn’t in my contract!”

“Isn’t it always like this?” Jin Guangyao sighed. “You sign up for one thing, and then get another one entirely.” Hearing this, the ghost nodded quickly, throwing his sabre a disgusted look. Jin Guangyao smiled. “You know, if things are so bad for you, nobody could blame you for breaching your contract. If you wish, we’ll let you go without a fight and tell others that we defeated you, if you only let us in and tell us a bit about what’s to come. How would that sound?”

With at least two of them skilled with a blade, and a third one rumoured to have terrifying powers, defeating such a pathetic little ghost would have been as easy as breathing. But if that man could give them information on his master and on what might await them inside, it would give them a clear advantage. As far as Lan Xichen knew, nobody had ever entered the Magpie King’s realm before, mostly because nobody knew where it was. The Heavenly Court had long suspected he had to have a den somewhere, as most powerful ghosts did, but they’d never been able to find any information on that. The Magpie King, who knew how to find everyone’s secrets, was quite good at keeping his own.

Indeed even that ghost, so vindicated against his master a moment ago, looked worried as soon as he was asked to let information filter out.

“Now that’s a lot to ask, my lord. Sure I’m asked to do more than was in the contract, but that’s a bit extreme. Betraying the Magpie King? Now, now, let’s be reasonable. I am faithful to my lord and master, of course.”

Although the ghost tried to look very dignified and noble as he said this, Wei Wuxian burst out laughing.

“Let me guess. You’ve sold your secrets to the Magpie King, and now you’re scared they’ll be spread around if you displease him, eh?”

"I made mistakes in my youth," the ghost wryly replied. "Now I must pay for them, until the King feels like erasing them. But just because I’ve not always been as diligent as I should have been, he keeps adding years to my time with him, how is that fair?”

“Sounds pretty tough,” Wei Wuxian said in a voice lacking any sympathy.

“Honestly, I’m not even sure I made that good of a deal,” the ghost lamented. “But it’s too late now. Since my secrets aren't mine anymore, I'm kind of trapped.” He paused, and gave them a long look. “But if someone freed me from that, I bet I could guide them through here, yeah?" 

"And how do we free you?" Lan Xichen asked. 

The man shrugged and pinched his lips. He looked very uncomfortable, and glimpsed again toward the mountain road, as if he feared the Magpie King would descend from there and punish him for even thinking about betraying him.

"Of course it'd be too easy if you could just tell us the conditions," Jin Guangyao sighed, watching the ghost attentively. "Sealed secrets… I believe I've encountered something like this before. If the Magpie King is using that curse I’m thinking of... the conditions to break the contract is for those secrets to be revealed out loud. And of course, I'm guessing you can't give us any hint, right?" 

The man shrugged again. Since it wasn’t a direct no, it might as well have been a yes.

"Then we'll have to do without a guide," Jin Guangyao concluded. "It would take too long to guess and da-ge could be in danger. We'll have to fight our way in, Xichen."

It seemed inevitable, and Jin Guangyao took a step back to let the others deal with this. Lan Xichen felt sorry for that ghost, but he still put one hand on the handle of his sword. Seeing this, the ghost cried out in fear. He threw his own weapon aside and fell to his knees, desperately raising his hands about his hand.

"Wait! No need to be so hasty! I'll help, I'll help, but you have to help me back! If I take you to that damn king, then you have to free me when the time comes!" 

"We can't be guessing," Lan Xichen sighed. "And I do not wish to promise something I can deliver."

The ghost considered that answer, his eyes jumping between the four men before him.

"Well, I'd take a half chance of freedom over another few centuries stuck here!” he decided. “At worse, maybe I'll just get killed this time, and that'll be it. Beats being miserable under a cruel master, it sure does!" 

Lan Xichen hesitated but eventually dropped his hand from Shuoyue, to the ghost's obvious relief. 

"I'll try to keep your case in mind," Lan Xichen promised, "and I'll do my best to break your curse." 

"Thank you, kind lord!” the ghost cried out, bowing and grovelling before Lan Xichen. When I am free, I will burn incense for you and tell mortals to do it as well!"

"Let's see about freeing you, first," Wei Wuxian snickered. "Do you have a name, friend?"

Straightening up, the ghost shrugged. 

"Been a while since I've had friends, but some folks used to call me Sangcan." 

Wei Wuxian's eyebrows rose at that nickname, and he failed to hide a grin, glancing at Lan Wangji who didn't react. 

"Sangcan like a silkworm?" Lan Xichen asked, a little amused as well and trying to see what could have prompted that nickname. 

Sangcan had nothing refined to his appearance, his face was ordinary and rather too thin, his clothes were of coarse linen, so it couldn't have been that Sangcan used to be a young master living comfortably, or that he had expensive tastes in clothes. Then, a poem jumped to his mind.

“Time was long before I met her, but is longer since we parted, and the east wind has arisen and a hundred flowers are gone, and the silk-worms of spring will weave until they die,” Lan Xichen quoted, prompting Sangcan to look at him with an intense expression. "You were reading earlier, could it be your nickname is a reference to something?"

The initial intensity on Sangcan’s face melted away, replaced by embarrassment.

"This lord is really too kind, to think it'd be anything so fancy. No, the truth you see... the real truth is...I was just a fat, lazy baby who did nothing but eat," Sangcan confessed lamentably. "Didn't improve much as an adult, so it stuck."

While Wei Wuxian burst out laughing at that explanation, Lan Xichen blinked a few times. Somehow, that exchange felt familiar. He looked more closely at Sangcan, but definitely this wasn't a person he'd met before. As for the conversation, if such an exchange had occurred before, Lan Xichen knew he wouldn’t have resisted sharing the anecdote with his husband. Since Jin Guangyao wasn’t reacting in any particular way aside from vague amusement, then it was proof Lan Xichen had never met Sangcan before.

Pushing aside that thought, Lan Xichen ordered Sangcan to walk ahead, and the five of them entered the domain of the Magpie King.

[tanoraqui]

hey, pls tell us about those 'kidnapping sizhui back to the burial mounds' aus? 'grave dirt baby'? 'speaker for the dead'? put me down as Scared! and! Intrigued!

Alright, so, the au I’ve mentally titled Speaker for the Dead is inspired by this fic series, which I think has great concepts but wildly insufficient follow-through on consequences

edit: er, this is gonna be the first of several parts. At least 3.

You know the Cluster in Steven Universe? Think of the Burial Mounds like that. Hundreds, maybe thousands of restless souls; some shredded, some simply lost; all neglected. Forgotten. Stewing in their own resentful energy and their exponential shared resentful energy, trapped in these abandoned lack-of-real-graves and forged over time into a nearly-single mass of rage and loss and unfinished business.

And then someone came along - well, was bodily dropped from a height - who could match them rage for rage and loss for loss, unfinished bloody business for unfinished bloody business. No one living and perhaps no one dead remembers if he said, “serve me, lend me your power, and I will carry your sentiments into the living world”, or if the Burial Mounds said, “serve us, wreak our fury and sorrow upon the living world, and in turn you will live and wield our power.” Or maybe it was an instant mutual recognition and agreement?

Well, we all know what happened next. And then he came back, their deathly messenger, and brought others, and for a brief while there was...life, inexplicably, in the land of the dead. Stubborn, hopeful life.

Then death swept through once more, from the outside this time, and the Burial Mounds took their diplomat into their embrace - but they’d gotten a taste for having their voice heard, now. The living far and wide had buckled under the force of their weeping rage, shared the burning sorrow of their thousand dead hearts. And there was one living thing left on their grounds sympathetic to their power...

But not because he shared their rage, loss, unfinished business - save in that he was young, and all his life was unfinished before him. And he was starting to understand loss, as the rest of his family died out of sight. Mostly he was sympathetic in the other way: kind and accepting, and even as a child disinclined to forget those abandoned by everyone else.

Well. Disinclined to forget intentionally. Because a three-year-old isn’t designed to be swarmed by the thousand and one voice(s) of the Burial Mounds, howling their rage and loss and determination to be heard. 

A-Yuan would have died that day, if one ghost in particular hadn’t been too fresh to have sunk into the horde. Barely aware of his own death yet, save that it had hurt, the Burial Mounds’ previous master/messenger stepped in between the boy and the onslaught of the dead - and he was a warrior and defender, he always had been. It had served them well when their unfinished business was little more than the bloody spread of death. 

It’s hard to say what exactly happened, then. Suffice to say, once the dest and resentful energy settled - and certainly by the time the cultivator in white arrived - the Burial Mounds had a representative to the living again, their roots sunk deep into his soul, and their representative had a guardian.

-

Lan Xichen was very carefully not wondering where his brother had gotten this child, not wondering at all - why question; there were far too many orphans, these days, and of course Hanguang-jun was noble enough to save one even while wounded to near death himself.

But the fact remained that the boy - A-Yuan, Lan Yuan now - was laced with incredibly persistent resentful energy. The healers had noticed it first and done their best to cleanse it, and the best of the healers of GusuLan was no small effort. At first, it had seemed to work - the darkness stopped wisping from his lungs when he coughed; the cough and fever themselves disappeared. But still the resentful energy remained, a patina of grime on an otherwise pure soul, and even when Lan Xichen himself played Cleansing, it only seemed to fade, not fully dissipate.

A-Yuan grew sick again, feverish and weeping, complained of hurting in the way of a small child too miserable to give clear answers. Lan Xichen stayed with him, playing Cleansing through the night, and by the wee hours of the morning the boy was positively listless - and still, under close inspection, resentful energy clung to him. 

Lan Xichen closed his eyes and sat back to meditate for a moment. He had to collect himself. 

His brother was asleep in the next room over. He’d been asleep since he got back from...somewhere, nearly collapsing off his sword with blood pouring from every whip mark and with a feverish child in his arms. His continued unconsciousness was partly at the order of the healers, partly of his own accord.

Multiple rules forbade superstition and the taking of omens, but Lan Xichen could feel in his heart that if the boy died, Lan Wangji wouldn’t wake. Or if he did, he would be...empty, the way he’d been for years after their mother’s passing. The way he’d been, to be quite honest, until Wei Wuxian walked into the Cloud Recesses.

Meditation didn’t help. Lan Xichen picked his [xiao] again and began the first notes of Cleaning, pouring every ounce of power he had into the music. On the bed, Lan Yuan whimpered weakly.

There was a rattling from his waist, where jade keys to all the wards of Cloud Recesses hung as a badge of office. An instant later, something yanked Liebing from his hands and flung it across the room, and with the same force shoved him backward. For an instant, he saw a figure standing above him, dark-robed and terrible.

Then it was gone, a mirage of the flickering lantern - but on the bed, A-Yuan had moved. Instead of lying flat, he was curled up as though leaning against something, clutching the air near his chest like something invisible had been placed there for him to hold. ...Hovering slightly above the mattress as though on a lap, and tired tears spilled from his eyes; he murmured something too quiet to hear.

(Cool hands picked A-Yuan up and held him; a hand brushed through his hair and a gentle voice said, “Shh, shh, A-Yuan, it’s alright. I’ve got you.” He looked up to see a pretty face and soft, sad smile, clad in robes that were dark and smelled of damp and blood.

“Mama?” he said blearily. It wasn’t right, but it was the closest word he had for how safe and loved and somehow refreshed be felt. He clutched the roughspun robes like they might vanish from his grip.

“Is that what we’re working with?” The man’s smile turned teasing, and he held A-Yuan a little closer. “Sure. I did birth you from my own body.”)

Lan Xichen picked himself up carefully, retrieved Liebing from beside the far wall and eyed the boy on the bed. Some presence watched him back - resentful, to be sure, but not like any spirit he’d ever felt. The tokens representing the wards against resentful energy and restless ghosts had both stopped shivering - because it was quiescent, or because it was already inside?

He needed answers, but at the same time, he very much needed to not have answers, because they might force him to a decision that his brother would never forgive.

-

Lan Yuan has never left the Cloud Recesses since he arrived. This wasn’t entirely abnormal - he’s only just six years old; there are few reasons for a child that young to go beyond the wards. There are excursions for hikes now and than, to introduce the children to nature, but something always interfered - illness, other duties or even punishments. There is the Spring Festival in Caiyi Town for which disciples of all ages are permitted one day free of all responsibility, including the youngest who are taken down with appropriate adult minders. But Lan Yuan always filially elected to use the special dispensation of this holiday to spend all day with Lan Wangji (per Rules 267-270, exceptions to seclusions were allowed for close family, at the Sect Leader’s discretion.) 

In his third year of seclusion, Lan Yuan now age six and bubbling enthusiastically about the tales and treats he expected his friends to bring back from the festival, Lan Wangji had asked why he refused this holiday. Wide-eyed and pious, Lan Yuan had replied, “Because I want to spend time with Father!” 

Sensitive to too-wide eyes, and too aware of his own shortcomings in the area of festivity and excitement, Lan Wangji had pressed to be sure that this was how he wanted to spend his day: sitting quietly inside, playing music, practicing reading stories of Lan Sect history? 

Pressed, Lan Yuan admitted that his Mama said he shouldn’t go outside the boundaries of Cloud Recesses unless his father was with him.

It wasn’t the first time this “Mama” had come up. Lan Yuan’s Mama said it was not just permitted but required that he run shrieking up the path to the jingshi, to greet Lan Wangji by tackling him about the knees with gleeful laughter. Mama said it was okay if he didn’t eat dinner when he was supposed to, Lan Yuan insisted, because the food was “boring anyway.” 

“Mama”, Lan Wangji was very, very sure, knew a song that Lan Wangji had composed at the age of sixteen and only ever played for one other person, because somehow Lan Yuan knew it to hum himself to sleep on restless nights. It was possible that he simply remembered it subconsciously from the times he couldn’t otherwise call to mind - music was like that. But when asked, he took on the overly cute look of an untrained liar rather than the dreadful uncertainty that slipped into his voice when questions arose of any time before the Cloud Recesses.

Lan Yuan had never stepped foot outside the Cloud Recesses since the day he’d been carried in, yet it was Lan Wangji who hesitated on the border, marked on this back hill by nothing more than a thin strip of bricks at the edge of the field.

“Rabbits!” Lan Yuan cried, and tugged him forward by the hand. “There are rabbits!”

“Xichen would not have misled you,” Lan Wangji said, amused.

“I know.” Lan Yuan immediately slowed down contritely, and looked up at him with confusion. “But there are no pets allowed in the Cloud Recesses.”

“The rabbits are not pets,” said Lan Wangji, perhaps more automatically defensive than the occassion called for. “They simply find this meadow enjoyable, as it is filled with clover and, coincidentally, sometimes scraps from the kitchens. Also - ” He gestured to the line of brick several feet behind them - “we are no longer in the Cloud Recesses.”

“Huh.” Lan Yuan cocked his head as though this was something he’d never heard before, rather than something he’d been explicitly told they were going to do, this first day of Lan Wangji’s release from seclusion. “It’s colder, in a nice way. And there’s a lot of - ”

He shut his mouth abruptly, as though someone had hurriedly told him to stop talking.

“Rabbits!” he shouted suddenly, for all appearances remembering thei presence with absolute delight. “Can I play with them, Father?” He pulled on Lan Wangji’s hand again. “Can we play with the rabbits?” 

“You can and you may,” said Lan Wangji, and let his hand go.

Lan Wangji was itching now, burning, to draw his guqin. But of course this permission meant that he had to spend several minutes carefully coaching Lan Yuan on the way to quietly approach a rabbit without causing it alarm, how to offer some of the lettuce they’d brought and how to pick one up and hold it safely. Mitigating his impatience was the unabashed awe on Lan Yuan’s face when the first rabbit let him pet its ears, and his own gratitude at how several of the older rabbits seemed to remember him. (Or possibly they just recognized “man in white sitting quietly with lettuce”, and found it a more attractive invitation than “quietly bouncing six-year-old with lettuce.”)

But, fascinated though he’d been, Lan Yuan quickly lost interest in the rabbits. He pet them absently, but kept looking around as though more interesting things were happening in the clear air. A sudden wind whipped though the meadow, acrid with resentful energy, and he scooted to Lan Wangji’s side.

(”Everyone shut the fuck up!” Mama’s robes and hair lashed as resentful energy rushed out from him, pushing back the clamoring crowd of ghosts. His fists clenched and his eyes flashed red, and the scent of blood rose about him. “You will line up single-file to talk to A-Yuan, if and when I say you get to talk to him! Right now, he’s playing - oh, look, Hanguang-jun’s getting out his guqin, probably to play Inquiry. Go bother him!”)

Lan Wangji couldn’t stand it anymore. He settled Wangji on his lap and set his fingers for the strong opening chords of a general Inquiry, to announce his presence and summon any spirits within range - and paused, and leaned over to ask Lan Yuan, “Is your Mama here, now?”

“Ye - ” Lan Yuan squeezed his lips shut and shook his head. “I mean, no. Who’s Mama?”

“Lan Yuan,” Lan Wangji said sternly.

Lan Yuan shrunk, but didn’t break. 

“Mama’s a secret,” he whispered fiercely. “It’s a rule, like on the wall.”

“I know.” They’d had this conversation before, and Lan Wangji had never pushed beyond this. Even a child was allowed secrets, and Lan Wangji was in forced seclusion, punishment for a crime he didn’t regret but would accept the consequences of nonetheless, in spirit as well as letter (fave for A-Yuan’s near-daily visits - but that was allowed.) Moreover, even from the secluded jingshi, someone might hear his Inquiry and have questions of their own, and- and what if he was wrong? The disappointment would be like death again.

But now he was not just out of his house but beyond the border of the Cloud Recesses for the first time in three years, far from any plausible earshot save the rabbits’  and soaking in sunlight that reminded him of a smile. Now, he thought he’d seen a figure in black for a split second when the cold wind blew. and suddenly the idea of being right and not knowing it was more horrific than any other outcome.

He swallowed a rasping, Please - unseemly, and unjust to burden a child with. He gathered parental authority about himself like a cloak and improvised, “Rabbits do not like secrets. It is rude to keep them in this, their home.” 

Lan Yuan bit his lip, and Lan Wangji gentled his voice. “They will still be secrets away from the rabbits’ meadow, and there will be no consequences for any broken rules.”

“Oh!” Lan Yuan sagged against Lan Wangji’s side and let out a sigh like he was coming home at the end of a month-long night hunt. “Thank you, Hanguang-jun.” He bowed formally, from the seating position, in the direction of the greatest cluster of rabbits, which seemed unconcerned by the gathering resentful energy. “And thank you, rabbits, for your hospitality!” 

He sat up, posture Lan-perfect, and pointed. “Mama’s there, pushing all the other ghosts into line. He says they have to talk one at a time, like in lessons. Are the ghosts in lessons, now? Is Mama a teacher, like Senior Feng and Great-Uncle?”

Lan Wangji, quite honestly, didn’t hear most of his son’s questions. He was too busy playing, perhaps more hesitant than he had ever played Inquiry in his life, Wei Ying?

He held his breath as the small light of a lost soul alighted upon the strings and plucked out, I am Ying Huang.

The breath seemed lost for good.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Miss Ying,” said Lan Yuan. “Um - ” He glanced at Lan Wangji and back at the space above the guqin. “Yes, I- we- Father can tell your husband that it wasn’t his fault - oh wow, you had a baby? What’s its name?” A pause. “That’s pretty! I bet she’ll be pretty, too - you are, so I bet she’ll be pretty just like her mother!”

The chatter, a six-year-old’s mix of earnestness and polite nothings mimicked from adults, reeled him back from that distant, breathless place. Inquiry was still in effect and the spirit continued to play, far more slowly than Lan Yuan responded, Tell Ying Chao it was not his fault, nor the baby’s. 

“A-Yuan,” Lan Wangji managed. “This - Ying Huang. She is not your Mama?”

“No?” Lan Yuan looked utterly baffled. He pointed to somewhere directly ahead of him. “Mama is right there. He’s tall and wears black and has blood all over, sometimes, when he’s angry or sad. Miss Ying is here - ” he pointed at the space on the opposite side of the guqin - “and she’s short and has a greenish dress, and only only has blood on her - oh! Mama’s coming here now...”

Another spirit light solidified as it approached the guqin. This one was brighter and darker at once, strong and resentful - yet not...active in it. It simply was. 

It hovered over the strings for a moment, quivering side to side like the eyes of a shamed person, before alighting and gently plucking out, Hello, Hanguang-jun.

There was no way to know that it was him, and yet... Lan Wangji was breathless again, but this time it felt as though he simply had too much inside him to have room for air.

His fingers moved over the strings without conscious direction. He thought he might be mouthing the name. Wei Ying.

The guqin language of Inquiry was necessarily limited; there were only so many combinations one could make of seven strings. There was only one clear affirmative, yes, and no formal or informal intonations.

Nevertheless, Wei Wuxian managed to express, Yeah. Lan Wangji could imagine him shrugging, giving a rueful smile. Sorry about the whole ‘Mother’ lie. It was his idea.

Understandable. The rhythms of Inquiry called for question and answer. Did you not birth him yourself?

“Mama is laughing,” Lan Yuan announced, as pleased as though he’d organized every part of this himself. He sat up straight, hands in his lap, every inch the proper Lan disciple. “Father, can- may we just talk, now, instead of using Inquiry? It’s much faster, and I can understand it.”

“I’m afraid I cannot understand Wei Ying any other way,” said Lan Wangji, feeling real regret, On the guqin, Wei Wuxian played, We really do need a better way - this is boring. But a way with less soul-binding resentful ghost fuckery.

(Another word that was absolutely not in the vocabulary of Inquiry. Wei Wuxian, as always, managed anyway.)

Three years of parenting practice had one of Lan Wangji’s hands protectively on Lan Yuan’s shoulder, the other darting across Wangji’s strings. What do you mean, soul-binding resentful ghost trouble?

Wei Wuxian’s soul moved back from the strings, fading until it was barely visible. Lan Yuan nodded and shifted until he was sitting beside the guqin, between them.

“Mama says don’t worry, A-Yuan is fine,” he told Lan Wangji seriously. “He says it’s a...” He narrowed his eyes in focus. “‘Severe but non-ma-lig-nant case of resentful energy inculcation and imprinting, with a side order of a little bit of passive possession. By the conjoined spirits of the Burial Mounds.” 

Lan Wangji must been visibly horrified, because Lan Yuan looked worried as he leaned forward and patted his knee. 

“It means I can talk to Mama and other ghosts,” he explained in his own words, “and they can understand living people better when I’m there.” His face twisted skeptically. “Because that’s special?”

“It is very special,” Lan Wangji confirmed, still reeling a little from “passive possession by the conjoined spirits of the Burial Mounds.” But if Wei Wuxian said it was fine, then it must be fine - he would, Lan Wangji was exquisitely sure, mask any danger to himself, but never to A-Yuan.

Still, his gaze flicked to beyond Wei Wuxian, where there was nothing but silence, sunlight, and idle rabbits sleeping, or gnawing down the grass - and, he was sure, still a line of ghosts apparently determined to speak to his son.

Wei Wuxian must have noticed the movement of his eyes, because Lan Yuan began reciting dutifully again: “Mama says that there’s fourteen more spirits here, not counting Ying Huang - who went back to everyone else, now. There’s a draw, he thinks, to A-Yuan, even if they don’t know con-scious-ly that he can talk to them. And, of course, the handsome - oh, the great Hanguang-jun, known master of Inquiry.”

"Will they accept Inquiry with myself,” Lan Wangji asked, “while Lan Yuan continues to play with the rabbits?”

Lan Yuan watched the space where Wei Wuxian was.

“’Lan Zhaaan,’” he repeated, less certainly. “’You’re too - sorry, Mama. ...Yes, Mama.” He turned back to Lan Wangji. “He says you’re a very good dad and he’s so glad you’ve learned so much since the street in Yiling.”

Lan Wangji felt his ears turn red, which was ridiculous. It wasn’t exactly a high bar, to have learned how to treat a child better than to stand in silent bewilderment while the child wailed at one’s feet.

Oh.

“A-Yuan. Do you remember...”

Lan Yuan shook his head, looking down in shame.

“That is fine,” Lan Wangji said firmly. “Do you wish to resume playing with the rabbits?”

Lan Yuan’s entire being seemed to brighten; if he’d been a rabbit himself, his ears would have stood straight in excitement. But he looked guiltily at the line of waiting ghosts.

(They were mostly common people of Gusu, ghostly echoes of clothing in rough cloth and dull colors. Many were bloody, from missing limbs or cut chests or more, others were simply pale and thin. One had the ghost of a cat draped stubbornly around her shoulders. The farther they got from him, the less clear they were to see, but sadness and yearning radiated from all of them, even the ones who scowled or glared, dark energy flicking around their forms like a shadow of the aura Mama could summon.

“Go on, A-Yuan,” said Mama, with one of his warm smiles that felt like home. “Your dad and I will handle the deathly supplicants, but we can’t play with the bunnies nearly as well as you will - but be careful! They might recognize that you’re part radish, and try to eat you!”)

Lan Yuan leapt to his feet with a grin, and bowed quickly to both of them. “I’ll be careful! Thank you, Mama; thank you, Father!” 

“Go slowly,” Lan Wangji called as he darted off. “The rabbits - ”

The rabbits had already scattered in the face of Lan Yuan’s run, save for one particularly lazy old one with a whole leaf of lettuce to itself.

He will learn, Wei Wuxian said on the guqin, with a meaningless trill that Lan Wangji had no trouble translating as a smile. 

[smiting-finger]

this exists because I love Wen Ning

The period after the Yiling Patriarch's return is rife with rumour. They spread like wildfire throughout the Wizarding world, each seemingly wilder than the last: Wei Wuxian put part of his soul into a baby so his followers could bring him back to life, Wei Wuxian was alive all along and living under a different identity using Polyjuice (accounts of the precise identity vary) - soon even tales of the Ghost General being seen again begin to spread.

The students of Gusu Academy are taught not to put any stock into idle gossip (and frankly, it's a little too convenient that the Ghost General has popped up right now, when he's had any time within the past ten years to make an appearance), but who among them didn't grow up on stories of the Yiling Patriarch's right-hand man, so thirsty for blood during the war that he'd risen from the dead to continue killing? And yes, it's a little ridiculous that sightings have been reported in so many places (he's a ghost, but even poltergeists don't move fast enough to travel around the Burial Mounds, Koi Tower, the Nightless City and Lotus Pier within a week. What’s he doing, anyway, taking a Grand Tour?), but that doesn't make it any less interesting, so the stories continue to circulate within the school grounds.

And then the ghost turns up right outside.

Someone is immediately sent running for the Headmaster, but it's Professor Lan who comes to the gate, Little Apple perched on his shoulder and looking curiously at the students crowding along the edge of the wards.

"Ah!" the ghost says when he approaches, speaking for the first time. "Lan Wangji! I- I don't know if you remember me, but, uh, I'm-"

"Wen Qionglin," Professor Lan says in greeting, and furious whispers travel up and down the line of students. 

The Ghost General! 

"Oh, you do remember!" the ghost - the Ghost General says, sounding quietly pleased. "I heard that - that he'd returned, and that he was here, so I…'

He trails off, looking hopefully at Professor Lan, who nods.

"He did. But he's away on a trip."

"Oh."

The Ghost General's entire figure seems to deflate.

"Then-"

"You may come inside and wait for him here," Professor Lan offers, raising a hand and holding out a small jade token. "If you'd like."

Twenty-odd pairs of wide student eyes suddenly zoom towards him.

The Ghost General's pale eyes are also wide with surprise, but he smiles and nods tentatively.

"Y-yes, I would. Thank you."

-

It just goes to show how well-grounded in principle the Gusu Academy rules are, because just a week of having Wen Qionglin among them unequivocally proves to the students that common knowledge is completely and utterly full of shit.

While no one actually believed that the Ghost General ate babies (being a ghost and therefore incapable of eating anything), most people did take it, and the other stories like it, to be illustrative of his general ferocity and cruelty, since even the conservative estimates of his bodycount in battle are alarmingly high.

Now, a general sentiment is growing amongst the student body that the influence of Jin Guangshan's self-serving propaganda must be stronger than they'd thought, because Wen Qionglin is - well.

(To be honest, they should already have known this. According to Jin Guangshan, the Yiling Patriarch was power-hungry and evil, and in the end the power-hungry one was Jin Guangshan, and Professor Wei is only evil at exam time.)

He is very strong for a poltergeist, that much is true, but he mostly uses his abilities to help Professor Lan cart around class supplies, or stop over-burdened students from dropping their books in the hallways. He can always be found hovering around the Quidditch pitch when practice is in session, waiting to catch anyone who falls off their sword and rush them to the infirmary if they've sustained any injury heavier than a bruise. He spends most mealtimes sitting next to Professor Lan and smiling nervously at anyone who meets his eye, and is terrified of Senior Professor Lan, who apparently taught him in school and left an impression.

(The students can sympathise. He's left much the same impression on them.)

In short, the poltergeist Wen Qionglin is lovely and a student group has already formed to protect him from being bullied. 

And then Professor Wei Wuxian comes back with his group of fourth- and fifth-years. 

"Young Master Wei!" Wen Qionglin exclaims, zipping through the students towards the dusty figure in the doorway, Professor Lan and Little Apple following behind him at a much more sedate pace.

"Wen Ning?" Professor Wei exclaims, halfway through shrugging his cloak off, his mouth already stretching into a beaming grin. "Where did you come from? When did you get here?!"

"I-" Wen Qionglin begins, and that's when he catches sight of Lan Sizhui walking in the door and turns even whiter than his usual ghostly pallor

"Young Master," he whispers after a moment. "Is that-"

Professor Wei smiles crookedly. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

He beckons Lan Sizhui over with a wave. "Sizhui, why don't you introduce yourself to our guest?"

"Lan Yuan," Lan Sizhui says obediently, bending into a beautifully-correct bow. "Courtesy name 'Sizhui'."

Lan, Wen Qionglin mouths soundlessly, and his gaze immediately flies to Professor Lan, who nods.

"Sizhui," Wen Qionglin repeats softly, turning back. "So your courtesy name was given to you by-"

"Professor Lan," Lan Sizhui confirms with a nod, and then shoots a curious glance in his direction.

Instead of explaining anything about Wen Qionglin, Professor Lan nods a second time and says, cryptically, "Names are for things we intend to keep." 

But it must make sense to Lan Sizhui, because he lets out a soft oh!, cheeks dusting with pink and Professor Wei grins. 

"You should make some time to spend with Senior Wen," Professor Lan tells Lan Sizhui. "After you've had time to rest and settle back in. He has a lot to speak to you about."

"There's no hurry, though," Professor Wei says, leaning in to rub the top of Little Apple's head, and then tug gently on the end of Professor Lan's hair ribbon. "Unless Wen Ning's got somewhere to rush off to - which I don't imagine he does - Hey Wen Ning, you're staying a while, right?"

"Um," Wen Qionglin says. "I - yes? If it's all right. I'd - I'd like that very much."

And these exist because I had headcanons with nowhere to go:

5 Things Lan Xichen knows about his nephews

The reason their uncle did nothing when he discovered the boys with Little Apple was that it was just so ugly. Had Little Apple been cuter, their uncle would have had no qualms in telling them to get rid of it, or at the very least punishing them for their rule-breaking. As it is, the little bird is so pitiful that their uncle simply cannot bring himself to do anything but turn a blind eye.

Wei Wuxian refers to the newly-returned Little Apple as Sizhui’s 兄长 so much that Sizhui himself starts doing the same, which is fine until the new teacher, Luo Qingyang, overhears him telling Jingyi that his 兄长 likes to nibble on his ear to get his attention.

Little Apple’s new favourite perch is Wangji’s shoulder (Wei Wuxian moves around too much), and the visual impact of this when Wangji walks through the Gusu halls has their uncle wondering what, exactly, has caused the sudden surge of student interest in the jelly-legs curse.

The Gusu house-elves like Wei Wuxian. Theirs is a friendship built on frequent, late-night kitchen visits; food provided without question and in exchange for much-coveted goods smuggled in from the muggle markets. They love Wangji because he is a Gusu Lan, raised in their domain (instead of the more usual Cloud Recesses) and under their care from the first. But they love Sizhui because he is theirs; because when Wangji brought him back, tiny, feverish and much too skinny, it was a parade of house-elves that helped a heartsick Wangji nurse him back to health. It was they who taught Wangji how to see to his needs, who rocked and soothed Sizhui to sleep when Wangji was exhausted from calling out to a ghost who never answered. It was they who comforted and cossetted Sizhui when he came back crying but didn't want Wangji to know it because someone had teased him about being adopted - about being an Outsider, about not being a Lan.

(Wangji knew. Xichen had had to intervene in a great many confrontations with other Lan parents because Wangji knew.)

5 Things Luo Qingyang knows about Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji (one of which is actually about Lan Xichen)

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji meet in first-year, on the first day of class, when they're assigned as potions partners for the year.

They become enemies approximately ten minutes later, when Lan Wangji discovers that Wei Wuxian is equally likely to follow instructions as not and Wei Wuxian discovers that Lan Wangji is a lot of fun to rile up.

They become friends the following month, when Lan Wangji comes across Wei Wuxian in the hallway, mid-scuffle with two of the Wen boys. As fists and knees go in all directions, one of them blames something or other on the fact that Wei Wuxian has no parents, and Lan Wangji stops short, says, "I also have no parents. Would you like to say something to me?" and throws himself into the fray.

When Gusu is paid a visit by its British counterpart, and the Headmaster (flanked by Professors Lan and Wei) steps forward to receive their guests, Lan Jingyi asks Lan Sizhui (in what he no doubt fondly believes to be a whisper) whether the foreign teachers are kind of….uglier than he was expecting? and receives a swift elbow to the ribs for his trouble. 

(When Qingyang tells the Headmaster about it, he glances at the copy of The Thirty-six Strategems* on his bookshelf and smiles.)

*Specifically,  美人计 or the Beauty Strategem

[curiosity-killed]

sorrow waited

Word count: 2379

on AO3

“What’s it like?” he asks because he can’t quite help himself. “Dying and coming back again.” The night is alive around them, frogs and crickets singing up along the lake. He’s been trying to be better, trying to learn to lay his anger down for jiejie, for Jin Ling, for himself. His tone still comes out too sharp. Leaning back on his elbow, Wei Wuxian doesn’t answer immediately but takes another drink. Jiang Cheng doesn’t think he’s drunk but they’ve both had enough wine that he probably should be. For himself, the pleasant warmth is starting to dissipate into something heavy and gnawing deep in his belly. At last, Wei Wuxian rests his arm against his knee and tilts his gaze up toward the dark sky. “Easier the second time,” he says ------

No one comes back from the Burial Mounds. No body or spirit is ever recovered from that mass grave. After three months, Wei Wuxian returns to them, alive, and some painful knot in Jiang Cheng’s chest gives way in relief. All those Wen dogs who said he was thrown into the Burial Mounds were liars, were sniveling cowards trying to seize some power through fear even in death. His brother is alive and here, solid in his arms, and he could not have been thrown into the Burial Mounds at all. He returns and he’s alive and that is all that should matter. It’s all Jiang Cheng wants to matter. It’s not all that matters. The Wei Wuxian who returns to them is — different. Changed. It’s not just his cultivation, his refusal to wear his sword. Something fundamental has shifted, as if his spirit has been slid a hands-width to the left of his body — just enough that sometimes Jiang Cheng looks and doesn’t see his brother but a stranger in his skin. He moves differently, walks more quietly. His edges sometimes seem to flicker, blur, like the roiling black he summons with that cursed flute. His gaze grows distant, long-sighted, as if he isn’t looking at anything on this mortal plane at all. They all smell of sweat and grime on the battlefield, but Wei Wuxian smells of blood, of iron live under his skin. No one gets out of the Burial Mounds alive and so Wei Wuxian cannot have been in the Burial Mounds — but sometimes Jiang Cheng starts to think it might be the inverse instead. No one gets out of the Burial Mounds alive and so Wei Wuxian didn’t get out at all. Someone, something, else crawled out. Worry chews at the base of his ribs like a street dog. They are surrounded by their closest allies and there is no one here he can trust with this. He has friends — or well, he has had friends. He remembers Cloud Recesses, stumbling out of the house with Nie Huaisang to escape Lan Wangji’s fierce frown. Since becoming sect leader, though, things have…shifted. When he speaks to peers his own age, it’s no longer as equals but as pieces on a political board. He is constantly aware of his role, now, the responsibility he wears. More than ever he represents Jiang sect, has to be mindful of how his actions and his disciples’ actions affect their clan and the way other clans look at them. That they are in the midst of war only exacerbates his fears. Everyone is on edge these days, and with Lotus Pier still smoldering in memory, any sign of weakness leaves his skin crawling. If he were to express worry about his own first disciple, what would the other clans say? He’s the youngest sect leader already and his home in ruins, few disciples left to follow him. Vulnerability shared with the wrong person now could spell the end of Yunmeng Jiang. He could ask Nie Mingjue or Lan Xichen — they are young leaders, too, but enough older than him to feel wiser, more settled. He balks at the thought. Nie Mingjue is a fearsome warrior and leader, but his judgment is harsh and final. Lan Xichen is more amiable but Gusu Lan holds their righteous laws paramount. Sympathy toward Wei Wuxian would surely cross those lines. He thinks, briefly, of Lan Wangji. After their months searching for Wei Wuxian together, he should be the obvious choice. His dedication to Wei Wuxian is surprising but undeniable. But…but ever since Wei Wuxian returned, he has been cold and biting toward Lan Wangji. Jiang Cheng doesn’t understand what exactly happened, but he doesn’t think Wei Wuxian would accept his help now. Telling Lan Wangji of his worries would be taken as a betrayal. He has had friends among the clans, but his closest has always been his brother. Asking him about this is already hopeless. Every time someone tries to ask about his missing time, Wei Wuxian evades and obfuscates, redirects with jokes and brushes away concern. Jiang Cheng’s scared to press too hard to find that shell brittle and cracked. Yanli worries, he knows. He and Wei Wuxian both try to keep the darkness from reaching her, but he knows she sees the shadows, the ink-like cracks growing between them. He doesn’t want to add to that, and so he hides his fear behind familiar anger instead.       They don’t share quarters anymore, and it takes a few weeks for Jiang Cheng to realize it isn’t only because of that that he hardly sees Wei Wuxian. At first, he had excused it as part and parcel of living separately, of the burden of their duties. It takes time for him to even start to suspect that Wei Wuxian is avoiding him. It doesn’t take long after that to realize it’s not just him. Wei Wuxian doesn’t shirk his duties, and he is ever-present on the battlefield with his ghost flute, but where his duties end so does his presence. He disappears, wraith-like, and no one knows where he goes. Jiang Cheng’s hands clench, nails biting into his palms and Zidian crackling against his skin. Worry is a hunger that he cannot appease. He’s not surprised when the rumors start, the murmurs that stutter into silence too late for him not to hear. Yunmeng Jiang has been dogged by rumors for all his life, and for most of it, Yanli and Wei Wuxian have acted as his shields against them. Yanli’s quiet propriety shames anyone who acts out around her, and Wei Wuxian has always been quick to speak up and fight back for his honor. When he’s feeling most bitter, Jiang Cheng thinks this, too, is something Wei Wuxian has beaten him at. He had two sets of parents, twice the reason to mourn, and he has always treated both with all the duty and piety that could be asked. For all his recklessness, he has always been proud of his parents and dutiful to Jiang Cheng’s. This is what makes suspicion grow from fear. Wei Wuxian has always fought back against rumors, always railed against untruths. Now, when he hears cultivators whisper about his path, about a plan to supersede Jiang Cheng as sect leader, he doesn’t fight back. One corner of his lips curls up, never reaching his eyes, like he knows something they don’t. Jiang Cheng’s spine shivers with unease. “How does it work? With the flute,” he asks one night when he finds Wei Wuxian lounging with a bottle of wine. Normally, he would yell at him to behave himself, to stop slacking off and get to his own tent. Today, though… They won the battle today or, well, Wei Wuxian won the battle. Flute in hand and silhouette smudged with spirits, he had singlehandedly laid waste to hundreds of Wen soldiers. The rest of their force was left to pick off a few stragglers here and there, but otherwise, they had just been there to watch. It should’ve felt triumphant. Instead, Jiang Cheng had felt something sick and rotting in the marrow of his bones. Around him, the other cultivators had been uneasy, hands tight on sheathed swords. After, as they set up tents and patrols for the night, Wei Wuxian had disappeared again, chased by his white shadow. But there was a moment, a flicker of an instant as everyone started to turn away. Jiang Cheng had only seen it because he’d glanced back, looking for his brother. Wei Wuxian stood alone at the crest of the hill, drenched in the sunset’s bloodred, and as he lowered the flute from his lips, he’d stumbled back half a step and reached one hand to clutch at the fabric over his chest. Even in the ruddy light his face had been too sallow and gaunt, his eyes shadows smudged into the pale of his skin. Ever since, the cavity of Jiang Cheng’s chest has ached. He is tired and scared and he wants his brother. When he sees the lanky figure strewn across the rocks like a body after a great fall, he can’t summon any anger. Clearing his throat, he steps up to Wei Wuxian’s side and folds down to sit beside him. Now, Wei Wuxian lolls back on his elbow and rolls the jug of wine in his hand. “Jiang Cheng,” he says with that voice he gets, when he’s telling a story or riling someone up, “if I told you I died and came back as a resentful spirit — would you believe me?” His head rolls toward Jiang Cheng just enough that Jiang Cheng can see his eyes slant toward him, the corner of his lips curved up in a sword’s edge smile. The question unsettles something deep within him, like a bone fragment rattling between his ribs. He forces himself to shove it deep down, draw up a façade of indignation. “You — shut up,” he says, shoving Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. Wei Wuxian sways with the motion, rolling his gaze away again. He lifts his wine but pauses without bringing it to his lips. From this angle, Jiang Cheng can make out the sharp curve of his jaw, the shadowed slash of his mouth. His hair hangs black as ink between them. He breathes out a laugh, then, finally, empties the bottle. When Wei Wuxian perches before the palace with black writhing around him and turns the battle on end, Jiang Cheng knows with bone-deep surety that there is no going back. Calamity has arrived, and it wears his brother’s face. Years later, when the blood has soaked into the battlefields and his family is dead, Jiang Cheng looks for a body. The rocks at the bottom of the cliff are jagged and veined with red, like arteries without skin to shield them. He knows what he’s looking for, can picture it too-readily in his mind. He’s seen enough dead bodies to overlay Wei Wuxian’s face on a split skull, his familiar limbs broken across the rocks. He walks through the jagged end of the world and finds nothing. No body, no shoe, no sign that Wei Wuxian plummeted to his death here. Tilting his head back, he eyes the ledge above. His heart beats steady and numb in his chest. He has run out of ways to feel, he thinks. Pain and grief have become such constant company that he hardly notices them, like the golden core steady in his chest. He’s not sure, anymore, which of them is keeping him upright. They’ve become a network, interwoven, fascia that binds him together. He walks forward a little more, trying to estimate how far his body could have been pulled or swayed by the air as he fell. Casting his gaze out a little farther, he still sees nothing but toothed stone. A flutter of red shivers in his periphery. Turning, sharp, he slips on the rock and goes down hard on a hand and knee. The stone slices his palm, a ragged gash that speckles with red immediately. He shoves off the rock, propelling himself toward the movement. If he’s there, if there’s a body, if — It’s only a tassel. Vermillion, blood-soaked, it dances on a low wind. Chenqing lays on the rock like it might on a stand, supported at its center by a fork in the stone. He stares at it, stomach clenching tight and painful. Anger rises, slow and sure as a tide, up his back. He can feel it in the constriction of his throat, the clench of his jaw as his teeth grit together. He hates this flute. He hates the smooth black-and-red lacquer, the careful engravings across its surface. He hates the red tassel, the jade lotus dangling above it. He hates the energy it summons and he hates the memories it resurrects. He hates it for his brother choosing it over Suibian, over the sword he carried for years. He reaches out, jerkily, to grab the flute with the thought to break it. Maybe if he snapped it over his knee or cracked it against the rock, maybe that would help. Maybe it would release this ocean of grief and anger that laps at his lips, all saltwater-sting. Maybe if he destroyed this flute it would bring back some better version of his brother, or at least make it not hurt so fucking much to remember him. His palm connects with the flute, fingers closing tight around it and — He can’t. He draws it close and stares at it and he hates it. He hates it and all that it represents, all that it has done — and he cannot destroy it. There is no body here. There is nothing left of Wei Wuxian except this, charred-bone-black and gleaming. No resentful energy spills off of it, nothing lashes out at his touch. He’d almost expected it to react to his blood, to the open wound cut through his palm. Instead, it lies inert and cool in his hand. It’s nothing more than a flute, after all, an instrument, a weapon, useless without its master. Swallowing, he slides it into his sleeve and turns to make the long walk back. There is nothing left for him here but the dry wind and the memory of the worst day of his life. He folds his sorrow into a sea in the shape of his heart and looks away.

[bloody-bee-tea]

Wangji Week 2020 Day 2

Music

Wangji Week finally gives me an excuse and a push to finish the Wangxian wips I still have laying around, which is awesome! This is over 6k long, so you can either read it here or on AO3 if you like that better.

Lan Wangji shouldn’t sit yet, he knows this. His brother has said as much, paired with a stern glance, that barely did anything to hide his worry.

But Lan Wangji is tired of laying down and resting. He misses his guqin.

He misses much more than that, but at least his guqin is something attainable.

Even the simple task of sitting up makes jolts of pain shoot up and down Lan Wangji’s back. Still. It’s been almost two years now. He wonders if the pain will ever lessen. He’s not sure he wants it to.

Summoning his guqin is easy, compared to getting into an upright position. Just a flick of his wrist, a stray thought and it’s there, weight resting comfortably and familiar on his knees. He has missed it dearly.

He splays his hands over the strings, absently tugging a note out of it as he ponders what song to play. There is only one real choice, Lan Wangji knows this, but his heart hurts even thinking about playing the familiar notes.

But it seems like it’s the only song he can remember right now, and his hands fall into the starting position without his conscious decision.

The first five notes are fine. Afterwards, it becomes hard to breathe, the weight on his chest more than he can handle; it’s hard to see too, because he can’t seem to stop crying.

Lan Wangji plays, still. It’s not like he needs to see his guqin to play the song most dear to his heart.

It’s only afterwards, the last note lingering in the air, that he notices his brother in the doorway.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen says, and Lan Wangji almost drowns in the sympathy he can hear in his brother’s voice.

A-Yuan is in his arms, but it seems like the boy has fallen asleep, a lingering tear still clinging to the corner of his eyes and Lan Xichen follows Lan Wangji’s gaze.

“He started crying when he heard the song, but then he fell asleep,” Lan Xichen explains and it just hurts Lan Wangji more.

He can hardly handle his own grief. He doesn’t know how to handle a small child’s on top of that but he knows he has to. A-Yuan deserves as much.

Lan Wangji vanishes his guqin and then holds his hands out towards his brother.

"Give him," he says, voice rusty from disuse and crying, but steady nonetheless.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen says again, like he can read the mounting despair on his brother’s face when Lan Xichen doesn't immediately obey.

"Give him," Lan Wangji demands again but still Lan Xichen doesn't move.

"Your back," Lan Xichen tries but Lan Wangji stubbornly holds out his hands.

This is probably hurting him more than actually holding the small boy.

"Brother, please," he whispers, begs almost, and this time Lan Xichen obeys with a small sigh.

He walks over and carefully dislodges A-Yuan from his shoulder before he transfers the sleeping boy into Lan Wangji's waiting arms.

Lan Wangji immediately curls his arms around A-Yuan, holds him closer, and he leans down to press a lingering kiss to the boys head.

Lan Xichen kindly doesn't comment on the fact that Lan Wangji stays like that for a long time, hiding his face away. He also doesn't mention the new sobs.

“I miss him,” Lan Wangji eventually whispers into A-Yuan's hair when the tears have finally stopped. He is still hiding his face, the memory of their song still in the air, and he doesn’t know how to handle this grief that is threatening to drown him.

It’s been two years. There are many more before him. It’s a horrifying thought.

~*~*~

Lan Wangji lingers over the last few notes of Inquiry, unanswered, like always, when Lan Sizhui sits down next to him.

The boy has grown, almost ten now, and he takes to the teachings of the Lan clan like a duck to water. Lan Wangji couldn’t be more proud of him.

Lan Wangji tilts his head in Lan Sizhui’s direction to let him know he can start talking. It's been not as much of a challenge to teach him to stay quiet during meals and when Lan Wangji plays as he had expected it to be.

Lan Wangji is reminded of the first time he told A-Yuan to stay quiet during meals, a fond memory, but also a painful one, as are all memories with Wei Wuxian. But A-Yuan had listened to him even back then, and it had made things easier for them once Lan Wangji took the boy in, even though he doesn’t remember his previous life.

He is brought out of his thoughts by an insistent tugging on his sleeve and he looks down at the boy by his side.

"Why don't you play that one song anymore?" Lan Sizhui wants to know and immediately Lan Wangji's heart grows heavy once more.

He knows exactly what song Lan Sizhui is referring to.

"You played it a lot and it made me sleep better. But you're not playing it anymore," Lan Sizhui whines and uses his most devastating pout on Lan Wangji.

He's certain Lan Sizhui learned that one from Wei Wuxian, even though the boy is adamant he can’t remember a thing from his time before he came to the Cloud Recesses. Lan Wangji is not surprised that Wei Wuxian left a lingering impression that even goes beyond conscious memory.

And it’s true. Lan Wangji had played the song a lot in the years after Wei Wuxian died. It hadn’t been for him, the song hurt him too much for that, but for A-Yuan. The boy suffered from nightmares for years after his family died and Lan Wangji had tried all he could to make it easier for him.

Playing that song was a sure way to get A-Yuan to fall asleep.

But now that he is somewhat grown-up, the nightmares have lessened and Lan Wangji has stopped playing it. There is no longer a reason to endure the pain it causes him after all.

Lan Wangji stays quiet for a long moment, deciding on how best to explain this without saying "I loved your dad and now that he's dead, the song hurts me". It’s too much to explain. Lan Wangji isn’t even sure if he fears it’s too much for Lan Sizhui or himself.

At his side Lan Sizhui stays patiently silent. He knows Lan Wangji's thinking face by now. He knows not to demand too impatiently.

"You know how some things make your head hurt sometimes?" Lan Wangji eventually carefully asks, thinking back to just yesterday when the cook talked about radishes and Lan Sizhui got a headache so bad he started crying.

Lan Wangji still doesn't know if it's better that the fever took everything; that Lan Sizhui doesn't remember anything about his time with his family and Wei Wuxian or if that just makes it harder.

Lan Sizhui nods, seriously, listening attentively and clearly coming to his own conclusions before Lan Wangji can figure out how to go on.

"The song makes your head hurt?" he asks and reaches up to brush his fingers over Lan Wangji's forehead, careful not to touch the ribbon.

It makes my heart hurt, Lan Wangji doesn't say because he's not quite sure how to explain that to Lan Sizhui without opening his own wounds again. They have barely scabbed over as it is.

So he prays for forgiveness to the ancestors and lies.

"Yes."

He wonders how many more rules he can break.

At his side Lan Sizhui nods gravely and even though he’s still too young for such a serious look on his face, Lan Wangji can’t help but to smile at his next words.

“Then I will fall asleep without the song,” Lan Sizhui seriously tells him, eyes wide and earnest and Lan Wangji pulls him closer to his side.

“How about we learn a different song to play for you?” he asks him.

Lan Wangji should reprimand him for the gleeful shriek Lan Sizhui lets out, but it lifts a weight off his chest, so he just vows to remind him of the rule next time.

It’s never good to curb curious interest with too many rules, after all.

~*~*~

Lan Wangji plays the guqin like he hasn’t in a long time. His fingers fly over the strings, pulling melody after melody out of them easily, but he always comes back to one song. Their song.

It doesn’t hurt him to play it anymore, now that Wei Wuxian is back. And it has to be him in the bed next to Lan Wangji. He certainly doesn’t look like Wei Wuxian, and even though it makes no sense to Lan Wangji, because how could that even be, but still. There is no other soul out there who could play the song.

Lan Wangji lingers over the last notes, reverent instead of pained like he used to for so long, and his gaze is yet again drawn to the still passed out figure of Wei Wuxian. He isn’t sure for how long he stared at him, when suddenly there’s a shuffling noise from the door.

HIs head snaps around to find Lan Sizhui leaning against the door frame. That in itself is worrying, because Lan Sizhui is much too well behaved normally to slouch like that and Lan Wangji is already halfway up before Lan Sizhui can even open his mouth.

“Father,” he says, voice unsteady and breathless and now Lan Wangji knows something is definitely wrong.

Lan Sizhui hasn’t called him father in a long time. Lan Wangji is not too proud to admit that he misses it, but he would prefer to hear it with a steady and strong voice.

“Sizhui,” he almost rushes out, as he goes to meet his son and put a steadying hand on his arm.

“That song,” Lan Sizhui whispers and Lan Wangji’s gaze falls back on the still sleeping Wei Wuxian. “I know it, don’t I?” Lan Sizhui asks, hand rising to his head.

Lan Wangji hasn’t played this song since A-Yuan had turned nine and could fall asleep without getting violent nightmares. Still, he agrees, because yes. A-Yuan knows this song.

“You used to play it,” Lan Sizhui whispers, but his eyes are glued to the man in the bed. “But he—he played it too.”

Lan Wangji turns surprised eyes on his son. Surely he can’t remember his time with Wei Wuxian on the Burial Mounds.

“When the Ghost General attacked, he played the same song. And before, too, at Mo Manor. I wasn’t sure then, and Jingyi said he didn’t know it, but it was that song, I’m sure of it.”

Lan Wangji wishes he could tell Lan Sizhui everything; how that man in the bed is much more his father than Lan Wangji ever could be, despite the length of time A-Yuan spend with either of them.

But he can’t.

He still isn’t sure if it really even is Wei Wuxian, no matter what his heart tells him, and he doesn’t want to cause Lan Sizhui that kind of pain. It is enough that one of them will be shattered if the man turns out not to be Wei Wuxian.

Not even to mention if Wei Wuxian doesn’t remember anything from before his death. No, this is something Lan Wangji has to shoulder alone, for now.

“I know him,” Lan Sizhui whispers again and makes an involuntary step forward, but Lan Wangji keeps his hand firm on his arm and pulls him back.

“You know the song,” he tells him, “not the man.”

Lan Sizhui turns eyes on him that have always been able to see through his facade too well. It must be something he picked up from his uncle.

“He’s an old—friend,” Lan Wangji admits, hoping that for once Lan Sizhui will not notice the slightly too long pause in his sentence. “I taught him how to play that song.”

“You never taught me,” Lan Sizhui says, and Lan Wangji silences him with a look.

It’s not Lan Sizhui’s place to question him.

“I’m sorry, father,” Lan Sizhui says with a bow and Lan Wangji sighs.

“Don’t apologize,” he gives back, because his high-strung mood is not his son’s fault. “You’ll learn.”

Even if Lan Wangji doesn’t actively teach it to him, Lan Sizhui will pick up on it sooner or later anyway. Lan Wangji is sure he’ll play it often in the future, maybe even accompanied by a dizi.

He can hope.

~*~*~

When everything is done, and Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian survived despite everyone trying to kill them, they part ways. It almost breaks Lan Wangji’s heart to see Wei Wuxian walk away from him, but he reminds himself that it’s better than it was when Wei Wuxian was dead.

He manages for almost a year, burying himself in the work of being Chief Cultivator, but when Lan Xichen steps out of seclusion, Lan Wangji is more than happy to hand that title over without fuss.

It still takes them some time to get everything in order, but Lan Wangji knows soon he’ll be free to go after Wei Wuxian and that hope, it shows in his playing.

The past year, their song was slow and longing, and every time Lan Wangji played it, he wanted to do nothing more than just get up and find Wei Wuxian.

But now, now he can, and his fingers fly again, turning the song into the reverent version it’s supposed to be.

When Lan Wangji finally goes after Wei Wuxian, Lan Xichen sends him off with a smile and a reminder to play the song often.

It’s not a hardship for Lan Wangji.

~*~*~

Lan Wangji finds Wei Wuxian in the jingshi, sitting in a window and staring outside. His fingers are restless, dancing over his outer robe and Lan Wangji allows himself a small smile at his foresight.

When he reaches Wei Wuxian he holds out Chenqing to him. Wei Wuxian keeps forgetting it lately, and then he always wonders where it went to, so Lan Wangji keeps an eye on the dizi no matter where Wei Wuxian leaves it.

One of them should know where it is, after all.

"You used to play for fun," Lan Wangji tells him as Wei Wuxian takes the flute from him.

You used to play our song whenever you sat down for a second, he doesn't say, because it fills him with worry.

When Wei Wuxian first came back to the Cloud Recesses they played their song often; together and separately, whenever one of them had the time. There wasn’t a day when their song didn’t fill the space of the jingshi.

But those days are gone, and Lan Wangji doesn’t know why, doesn’t know how to bring the carefree smile and easy nature of Wei Wuxian back. He has to figure out what caused them to disappear first.

Wei Wuxian spins the flute a few times, and Lan Wangji is as enraptured by his hands as he has always been, itches to reach out and measure their hands together, feel those clever light fingers dance over his own skin.

He clasps his hands behind his back. Going by the sharp look Wei Wuxian sends him, it doesn’t go unnoticed.

"There's nothing fun to play anymore," Wei Wuxian tells him eventually, without meeting his eyes and Wangji's heart grows heavy in his chest.

He never meant to trap Wei Wuxian like this, make him loose his enjoyment of the world, but it seems like Lan Wangji can do nothing right.

The distance between them continues to grow; Wei Wuxian moved to his own rooms, he doesn’t come looking for Lan Wangji during the day anymore and even when they do spend time together, it’s nothing like when they were traveling together.

Lan Wangji doesn’t know how to ask for an explanation, and it’s clear that Wei Wuxian won’t tell him on his own. Some days Lan Wangji thinks it has something to do with how he pulled away from Wei Wuxian, the always present urge to reach out for him, pull him close and never let him go easier to handle when Wei Wuxian is not in reaching distance after all, but for that to be true, there must be some feelings on Wei Wuxian’s side as well.

And there are not.

"I see," Lan Wangji belatedly says and turns around to walk away.

He's being haunted by Wei Wuxian's sad small smile and the absence of a flute filling the air for the rest of the day.

~*~*~

Lan Wangji is in the library, preparing a new lesson for the juniors, when Wei Wuxian finds him and seemingly decides to keep him company.

Lan Wangji doesn’t object, isn't sure he would ever be able to refuse Wei Wuxian anything, and instead he resigns himself to not getting anything done. He never does when Wei Wuxian is around, and especially not in the library.

But this time Wei Wuxian is quiet. Quiet in a way he never has been, before. In a way Lan Wangji has doubted Wei Wuxian even knew how to be. It’s a startling contrast to how Wei Wuxian behaved in the library when they were both still students.

The quiet now, it’s unsettling. Wei Wuxian hasn't been this quiet ever before, not even when Lan Wangji put the silencing spell on him. Or maybe especially not then, because the sounds Wei Wuxian made then were almost worse than his constant chattering.

But there’s no need to use the silencing spell on Wei Wuxian this time and Lan Wangji suspects it's his fault.

Wei Wuxian has been restrained around him, careful and unobtrusive, and it's the same now.

Lan Wangji hates it.

Hates the fact that he's the cause of this unnatural stillness, both in sound and in motion,  and it makes something in his chest curl up tight. It's threatening to choke him and he almost wishes it would.

Be never wants to hinder Wei Wuxian like this, never meant to restrain him like this, especially not for something that never annoyed Lan Wangji in the first place.

It's part of Wei Wuxian, the constant movement, the constant chattering, and Lan Wangji misses it so acutely it's like a physical pain.

He doesn't know how to bring it back, doesn’t know how to ask Wei Wuxian to just be himself with Lan Wangji around.

He fears Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to be himself around Lan Wangji anymore.

"You never told me," Wei Wuxian says apropos of nothing and turns to look at Lan Wangji.

It's the first time since he entered the library that he does. Lan Wangji knows because he's always acutely aware of Wei Wuxian’s eyes on him.

Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow at Wei Wuxian, prompting him to go on, and Wei Wuxian huffs at that.

"The name of the song," he says, like it should be obvious, and he brings Chenqing to his lips, plays the first few notes of their song, and Lan Wangji's heart plummets into his stomach. "Does it have one?" Wei Wuxian goes on, when he puts the flute down again.

Lan Wangji needs to swallow two, three times to get rid of the lump in his throat and before he feels that he can speak without his voice breaking.

"It used to," he finally admits and he hasn't anticipated the pain that admittance causes. "Now I'm not sure anymore."

Lan Wangji isn't sure of anything anymore. Especially not when it comes to Wei Wuxian.

"Oh," Wei Wuxian breathes out, a sound like it's been punched out of him and Lan Wangji immediately aches to soothe him.

He doesn't move. It’s not his place, Wei Wuxian makes that very clear every day.

"I didn't know," Wei Wuxian mutters, eyes back on his hands that are gripped tight around Chenqing. "I'll leave you be then," he finally settles on.

"There's no need," Lan Wangji tells him, desperately trying to keep him here, by his side, but Wei Wuxian is already standing up.

"Nah, you know I'm not a good student, Hanguang-Jun," he says with a teasing smile and suddenly he seems like the Wei Wuxian Lan Wangji has known all this time.

As if the prospect of getting away from Lan Wangji breathed new life into him.

Lan Wangji tries not to dwell on that thought but it's hard when it makes your heart crumble in on itself.

~*~*~

“Lan Zhan, how much longer do you want me to stay?” Wei Wuxian asks him a few days later, over dinner, and Lan Wangji can’t help but freeze at the question.

He has to bite down on his lips, because ‘Forever’ cannot be what Wei Wuxian wants to hear and in the end he settles on a shrug.

“How long do you want to stay?” he finally decides on asking and Wei Wuxian lowers his gaze.

“How much longer can I strain your hospitality? I know Lan Qiren is itching to throw me out.”

“Brother won’t allow it,” Lan Wangji says immediately, because for all that Lan Qiren is their Elder, he doesn’t get to decide who stays and who not.

And he knows Lan Wangji will either cause another scandal, or leave with Wei Wuxian, so he wouldn’t dare.

“Yeah, Lan Xichen must be real happy that I’m here,” Wei Wuxian muses. “But what about you?” he outright asks and Lan Wangji puts his bowl down for good.

He already broke the rule once, if he pretends he’s done eating, his conscious will be clearer.

“I want you to stay as long as you would like,” he eventually gives back and almost panics when a small furrow shows up on Wei Wuxian’s face.

“But what would you like?” Wei Wuxian wants to know and Lan Wangji is surprised at how desperately he wants to say ‘You’.

But he doesn’t, he can’t. He’s not what Wei Wuxian wants.

“For you to do what you want,” he settles on and Wei Wuxian stares into his bowl.

“Of course,” he mutters, before he seems to find a resolve. “I heard about some strange sightings in Qinghe. It doesn’t seem like Nie Huaisang is taking care of it, so I thought a night-hunt would be good?”

Wei Wuxian wants to leave. Lan Wangji clenches his hands into his outer robes under the table, so he can pretend they are not shaking.

“If you wish to. You’re free to come and go how you like,” he stiltedly gives back and when Wei Wuxian smiles at him, it cuts him right to his core.

It’s wrong, and small, and sad, and Lan Wangji wants to wipe it off his face.

“Alright, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian eventually says and then pushes his food away. “Play something for me?” he then asks and Lan Wangji immediately agrees.

Anything, to make Wei Wuxian happy.

He settles behind his guqin and his fingers fall into the familiar position as he coaxes the beginning of their song out of it.

“Not that one,” Wei Wuxian snaps and Lan Wangji jerks, pulling discordant notes from the strings. “Not that one,” Wei Wuxian says, softer this time and Lan Wangji feels like crying.

He never thought having Wei Wuxian around could hurt worse than knowing he’s dead, but it seems like he’s wrong.

Lan Wangji seems to be always wrong when it comes to Wei Wuxian.

Still, he starts to play a different song, because Wei Wuxian asked him to, and he could never say no to him. Maybe, somehow, this will be enough to make Wei Wuxian want to stay.

He knows it’s a futile hope, but it’s all he has left.

~*~*~

Wei Wuxian is going onto a night-hunt. Without Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji would prefer to not think about that, that Wei Wuxian didn’t even ask him to come, but instead he and Lan Sizhui are seeing Wei Wuxian off.

Lan Wangji pretends to not notice how the prospect of getting away from the Cloud Recesses, of getting away from him, has breathed new life into Wei Wuxian, but it’s hard to overlook.

Wei Wuxian is bouncing on the balls of his feet, all coiled up anticipation, before he turns around to them.

"Sizhui," Wei Wuxian says with a nod and an indulgent, fond smile before he pulls his son into his arms.

Lan Sizhui is enthusiastic about returning it, he doesn’t want to see Wei Wuxian leave either after all, but eventually it ends.

And then Wei Wuxian turns towards Lan Wangji.

"Lan Wangji," he says and Lan Wangji’s breath leaves him like he's been punched in the stomach.

He has only heard that name from Wei Wuxian’s lips twice, once in teasing in the library and once in absolute anger after Wei Wuxian came back from the Burial Mounds, and Lan Wangji is distantly surprised how wrong it still seems.

His name shouldn’t sound like that from Wei Wuxian’s lips, wrong and stilted, like an accusation more than a greeting, like a line being drawn between them.

Lan Wangji only experienced that once before, and he would have been happy for the rest of his life to never hear it like that again. The cold distance, the clear dismissal of everything they went through together, makes Lan Wangji’s whole world shift on its axis.

Lan Wangji is only aware of the feeling of falling for a few seconds, but even after the world righted itself again he's numb. He must have stumbled because suddenly Lan Sizhui is at his side, a strong grip on his arm and steadying him.

"Father," he whispers, the concern clear in his voice but Lan Wangji can't tear his eyes off Wei Wuxian who looks at them with a small, sad smile.

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji breathes and watches in horror as Wei Wuxian’s face crumbles in on itself.

"Goodbye," Wei Wuxian says before he turns around and walks away from Lan Wangji and Lan Sizhui.

He doesn't look back.

Lan Wangji wants to call after him, but his words are stuck in his throat, painfully lodged there and cutting him open. He wants to run after him, but his legs are not steady and Lan Sizhui’s grip is still painfully tight on him. In the end Lan Wangji can do nothing but watch Wei Wuxian walk out of his life.

Wei Wuxian is long gone from their sight when Lan Sizhui finally manages to get Lan Wangji back to the jingshi.

~*~*~

When Lan Wangji sits down behind his guqin his hands automatically reach for the most familiar notes. He wrenches his hands back after just three notes. It's still too much.

It has been months now, that Wei Wuxian left him, and Lan Wangji knows he’s not coming back. He took care of the night-hunt in Qinghe, Lan Wangji knows that much, but afterwards Wei Wuxian vanished.

Lan Wangji can’t play their song anymore, because there is no they anymore.

He startles slightly when Lan Sizhui sits down next to him and he vanishes the guqin with a flick of his wrist.

Lan Sizhui is quiet for a long moment and Lan Wangji learned to fear those moments. Sometimes Lan Sizhui is too perceptive, too clever for his own good.

"It doesn't hurt your head, does it?" Lan Sizhui eventually gently asks and reaches out to brush his fingers against Lan Wangji's temple.

Lan Wangji can still clearly see his little Lan Sizhui do the same and his heart almost flows over with love for him.

"It hurts your heart," Lan Sizhui goes on when Lan Wangji stays quiet and rests his hand over Lan Wangji's heart.

"Mn," Lan Wangji agrees, for the first time giving voice to his feelings and he's glad Lan Sizhui doesn't question it further.

He's not sure he could form actual words right now.

Lan Sizhui scoots closer, presses their arms and legs together and gets out his own guqin.

Lan Wangji has a moment of absolute panic where he fears Lan Sizhui is going to play the song that hurts Lan Wangji more than he can probable ever put into words but Lan Sizhui, of course, knows better than that.

He starts playing Clarity and Lan Wangji wants to object, the song is too sacred to play for fun, but he can already feel his mind settling and so he just leans a little more firmly on Lan Sizhui.

They both know it's the thanks he can't say out loud.

~*~*~

Lan Wangji is reading about core enhancement in the forbidden part of the library when he's suddenly startled out of his thoughts.

"Father," Lan Sizhui says and immediately has all of Lan Wangji's attention.

Lan Sizhui doesn’t call him father unless something is wrong. Seeing Lan Xichen stand next to his son does nothing to calm his nerves.

"A-Yuan," Lan Wangji acknowledges him and turns fully towards him, books abandoned on the table.

"It’s hurting him, too," Lan Sizhui tells him without pre-amble and for a second Lan Wangji doesn't know what he's talking about.

He has a moment of worry that maybe something is wrong with Lan Qiren or his brother, even though he’s standing right there, but the next words out of Lan Sizhui’s mouth make his meaning undoubtedly clear.

"It's hurting his heart, too."

Lan Wangji finds it hard to breathe for a few seconds, before he turns away from Lan Sizhui.

“Do not speak nonsense,” he admonishes him, because he knows what Wei Wuxian feels for him, and whatever Lan Sizhui is implying right now, is not it.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen starts but Lan Wangji sends him a sharp glare.

Not that his brother seems very impressed by that.

“Let him explain,” Lan Xichen asks of him, and Lan Sizhui wrings his hands in front of his chest.

“Speak,” he says after a long pause, a pause he uses to steel himself against whatever it is Lan Sizhui has to say.

“We meet him sometimes during night-hunts,” Lan Sizhui starts.

A part of Lan Wangji is relieved to know that Wei Wuxian is well and alive, but a more bitter part points out that neither Lan Sizhui nor Lan Jingyi ever felt the need to tell Lan Wangji about this or ask him to come on night-hunts with them.

“He doesn’t want to talk about you, and you flinch whenever his name comes up, so we didn’t mention it,” Lan Sizhui mumbles, because for all that Lan Wangji can read his son, Lan Sizhui can read him as well.

“Doesn’t matter,” Lan Wangji dismissively says but Lan Xichen shakes his head.

“It does. Listen, Wangji.”

“He plays the song sometimes,” Lan Sizhui immediately goes on and Lan Wangji’s heart sinks in his chest. “But it’s—it’s sad and melancholic, and he only does it when he thinks we’re all asleep, because he always, always starts crying.”

Lan Wangji’s fingers spasm; even the thought of this song causing Wei Wuxian so much pain hurts him deeply, and he wants to do nothing more but soothe Wei Wuxian’s pain somehow.

“We offered to accompany him once,” Lan Sizhui says, “I can play it well enough by now, but he refused. He seemed so panicked that he left the night-hunt early.”

“I do not see your point,” Lan Wangji presses out.

“It’s hurting his heart, like it hurts yours,” Lan Sizhui says, almost desperately, and Lan Wangji wishes he could tell Lan Sizhui off, that he’s being unreasonable, but he can’t.

If Wei Wuxian would really hate their song that much, he wouldn’t play it, Lan Wangji knows that for certain.

“I don’t understand.”

“Wangji, you should go to him. Tell him the name of the song.”

“Can’t. He doesn’t—,” Lan Wangji trails off here, because he has never put it into words.

What he feels for Wei Wuxian and what Wei Wuxian doesn’t feel for him.

“He does,” Lan Xichen gently says and he sounds so sure, Lan Wangji believes it for a second.

“What if he doesn’t?” he then asks and Lan Xichen smiles sadly at him.

“Would it be worse than it is now?” he wants to know and it makes Lan Wangji stop.

It wouldn’t be. Nothing could be worse than this state in between, where he thinks Wei Wuxian hates him, but where he has never said so.

“No,” he mumbles and startles when Lan Sizhui sits down close next to him.

“Come with us tonight. We’re supposed to meet him. You can tell him then.”

Tonight. It’s awfully soon, but given how long Lan Wangji kept the name of the song a secret, he thinks maybe it’s time now.

“I will come,” Lan Wangji decides and is not prepared for how Lan Sizhui throws his arms around him.

He just hopes they are not wrong.

~*~*~

Wei Wuxian is not looking too well, Lan Wangji can see that even from a distance. Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi went to get Jin Ling out of there, so Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji could talk in peace, but all Lan Wangji wants to do right now is bundle Wei Wuxian up and feed him meals.

He’s too thin, and he looks too tired.

It doesn’t help that he gets this startled look on his face when Lan Wangji walks up to him.

“Lan Zhan,” he breathes out and Lan Wangji has almost forgotten how it feels, to have his name uttered like that.

“Wangxian,” he says instead of a greeting, because he has to get this out there as soon as possible.

“What?” Wei Wuxian mutters with a frown and Lan Wangji dares to step closer.

Wei Wuxian hasn’t run from him yet.

“The song. I named it Wangxian,” he explains and he can see the moment his words reach Wei Wuxian because he instantly comes alive at that.

“You named it after us?” he wants to know and Lan Wangji can feel his ears redden.

He nods, but it doesn’t seem to be enough for Wei Wuxian.

“You named it after us?” he asks again and there is so much hope in his eyes, Lan Wangji hardly knows what to do with himself.

“Yes,” he answers, and is rewarded with the most beautiful sound in the world when Wei Wuxian starts to laugh.

“Oh, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says between his chuckles and he bounds forwards, right into Lan Wangji’s arms.

“Wei Ying,” he whispers, as he brings his arms up around Wei Wuxian to keep him close, press them tighter together, to never let him go again.

“Wei Ying, don’t leave again,” Lan Wangji says, afraid to voice his hopes and wishes, but he knows he has to.

He has Wei Wuxian in his arms. There is nothing he couldn’t do for him, for this feeling.

“Why, Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian asks and he pulls back, not enough to make Lan Wangji panic, but enough to make him frown.

It’s too much distance already.

“You have to tell me why,” Wei Wuxian goes on, “because I think there might have been a very big misunderstanding.”

“No more misunderstandings,” Lan Wangji declares. “Stay. I love you.”

Wei Wuxian lights up at that and Lan Wangji fears he’s going to vibrate right out of his arms.

“I love you, too, only you, always,” Wei Wuxian gives back and throws himself back at Lan Wangji. “I thought you didn’t like me anymore, thought you wanted me to leave,” he admits and Lan Wangji slings his arms further around the too slim waist.

“Never. I love you. Always,” he whispers back, presses his face into Wei Wuxian’s hair and he just breathes for a second, content right where he is.

If the world would end right now, he wouldn’t care.

~*~*~

“Play my song,” Wei Wuxian demands as he drapes himself over Lan Wangji’s back, and Lan Wangji can’t help the soft smile that overtakes his face.

“Wei Ying,” he admonishes him, but he doesn’t shake him off.

“Play it,” Wei Wuxian whines. “I haven’t heard it in so long.”

“Played for you after breakfast,” Lan Wangji gives back and he knows that he created a monster.

Wei Wuxian demands to hear the song so many times during a day, and Lan Wangji can never deny him. It was only ever meant for Wei Wuxian after all.

“Play it again,” Wei Wuxian says, clinging more firmly to his back. “Or I won’t let go of you.”

Lan Wangji wants to tease him, let him hang off his back like an over-grown monkey, but instead Lan Wangji gets his guqin out.

“Only if you play with me,” he says over the victorious cheers from Wei Wuxian and holds out his flute to him.

Wei Wuxian still keeps it laying around everywhere, seemingly content that Lan Wangji plays for him all the time, and knowing that without any imminent danger he doesn’t need it, and Lan Wangji keeps an eye out for Chenqing wherever he goes.

“Ohhhh, my precious,” Wei Wuxian croons at the flute and takes it right out of Lan Wangji’s hands. “I’ll play with you but only if you say it again.”

Lan Wangji truly created a monster.

“I love you,” he immediately gives back and Wei Wuxian’s smile is too big for him to join Lan Wangji in the first few notes.

“I love you, too,” Wei Wuxian says, right before he starts to play along and while Wei Wuxian can’t play when he smiles, Lan Wangji doesn’t have the same problem.

And he rather enjoys smiling while he’s playing.

[robininthelabyrinth]

🧿🤠🐇🍲🍯: Lan Wangji does not think it’s safe to raise A-Yuan in Cloud Recesses after the Lans participated in the killing of his zhiji and the entire Burial Mounds community (or more accurately that it’s not safe while he himself is in seclusion and can’t watch over A-Yuan, at least) so he delivers A-Yuan to the one person who he knows did not stand against Wei Wuxian (and got away with it, bc this person has never stood against anything, since standing takes effort): Nie Huaisang.

Little Side Door - ao3

Nie Huaisang’s rooms in the Unclean Realm had a little side door that no one but him ever used.

They hadn’t originally. The Unclean Realm was a fortress, designed to maximize protection and defense; there was no better place for keeping things safe by locking them away. While it had its fair share of boltholes and escape routes, they were not common and universally difficult to access lest the enemy learn of them and use them to their advantage. Even the layout of their open spaces were carefully planned lest the attack come from the sky, a concern that only cultivators had, and not about how they themselves could escape – after all, weren’t they all Nie, ready to die rather than endure dishonor?

The little side door that led to Nie Huaisang’s room opened onto a small rock garden, left to grow wild with weeds rather than reveal its presence to more people. It existed only because his brother had ordered it constructed by those he trusted most, all in secret in the dark of the night. He had never explained why he had gone to such lengths to create such an unwelcome and inauspicious place, but then, he hadn’t needed to – Nie Huaisang had been there, too, when his father had descended into madness and they had been trapped in the familial quarters with no way out that did not take them through him. If his brother had been the one to brave his father’s rage directly, Nie Huaisang had been the one stuck in a small space that was only not claustrophobic because it was so painfully familiar.

Now, though his father was long dead and gone, Nie Huaisang had a little side door.

A little side door, and a little garden that almost no one knew about; in combination with the saber that his brother forced him to learn and the golden core he had so begrudgingly formed, he now had a way to reach the sky and the illusive freedom it represented – the freedom to flee and leave his home behind.

If it ever happens again – his brother had said once, the closest he had ever come to speaking of it.

He did not finish his sentence, as Nie Huaisang had thrown his plate into his face and stormed off, steaming mad and close to tears. He did not raise the subject a second time.

Nie Huaisang did not often use his little side door.

Although he enjoyed gardens, he preferred the aviary he’d constructed, or one of the myriad of well-tended gardens in the main part of the sect; even the vegetable gardens out back beside the kitchens were far more welcoming than that sparse straggle of land. He’d only ever spent time there when he was a child and in desperate need of some quiet, wanting to avoid adults with their arguments and their miseries; he’d taken some friends there because he thought it might impress them, but it hadn’t, and anyway his brother had put a stop to that soon enough.

He didn’t even think about the little side door, most days. It was just a part of the room, a small tucked away corner with nothing in it. Nothing to think about.

And then, of course, years after he’d put it out of his mind entirely, there came a terrible banging noise at that little side door, like someone was kicking at it furiously from the outside.

Nie Huaisang nearly fell over sideways in his scramble to get up, and then once again when he realized where the noise was coming from – almost no one knew about his side door and its little garden, and so no one had ever come to him through it. Who would be knocking now…?

He opened it.

Lan Wangji, white robes stained with blood and cheeks bright with fever, shoved something into his arms. “You have a child now,” he said through bitten lips. “Congratulations. He is called A-Yuan. I entrust you with his care, for my sect cannot be trusted with it.”

And then he turned and staggered away, mounting up on Bichen and flying off before Nie Huaisang could say anything – before he could even finish searching his memories and recalling that yes, in fact, Lan Wangji had been one of the friends he had shown the side door to, years and years before, and thus knew how to find it. Before he could even start processing the thousands of thoughts that had spring to life, fully formed, at all the information he’d just received: the bloody robes, the desperation, the reference to the Lan sect – the Lan sect! – being somehow untrustworthy…

He looked down at his arms.

“Congratulations,” he echoed blankly. “I have a child now.”

The child blinked up at him, and then smiled.

-

“Da-ge!” Nie Husiang howled, rushing into the sect leader’s study where his brother was doing work – luckily it wasn’t receiving hours and he wasn’t in the main hall, as that would have been unfortunate. “Da-ge, you have to help me! I have a child now!”

His brother stared at him, expression blank and mouth slightly agape. The brush in his hand dripping ink onto a now-wasted piece of paper.

“Huaisang,” he said after a moment. “What the fuck.”

Nie Huaisang nodded furiously.

“Where did you get – how – who – what did you do?!”

“I am currently unable to disclose any details,” Nie Huaisang said promptly even as his brother tossed aside the brush and got up, striding over with a storm brewing in his face. “All I can say is that I have to raise this child now. By which I mean, you have to help me raise this child now; I can’t raise children! I’m not mature enough to raise a child!”

“No kidding! Why would someone entrust – to you…” Nie Mingjue trailed off, looking down at the child with a frown that shifted from disbelieving irritation to concern. He pressed his hand to the child’s forehead. “Huaisang, this child has a high fever. We need to get him to the medical wing at once – is that blood?”

“Not his, I don’t think?”

“I don’t want to know,” his brother decided. “Move.”

Some time later, they were both sitting next to the bed in one of the spare rooms in the family quarters; Nie Huaisang thought it might even have been the same one that he’d used when he was very young. A-Yuan was sleeping, and Nie Mingjue was still holding his little hand in his own, having been clocked as the oversize comfort animal that he not-so-secretly was from the very first moment A-Yuan laid eyes on him.

The doctors had declared A-Yuan’s fever to be very severe, but they had applied plenty of medicine – the Lan sect might have more esoteric healing techniques, but there wasn’t anything like the Nie sect when it came to standard medicine for injuries and illnesses associated with the battlefield, and despite A-Yuan’s tender age Nie Huaisang would be willing to bet that his injuries were from a battlefield. They were confident that A-Yuan would make a full recovery, body and mind both intact, although they warned that his memory of the past might be impacted.

Nie Huaisang had thought about all that blood that wasn’t his, of Lan Wangji pale-faced and wild-eyed, and decided that a little bit of forgetting might not be so bad after all.

“Are you going to tell me anything more,” his brother said after a while. “Or should I just give up now?”

Nie Huaisang leaned over and patted his knee. “It’s good that you know your limitations.”

His brother rolled his eyes.

“I can’t believe this is my life,” he remarked.

“What part?” Nie Huaisang asked, curious. “The fact that we have a kid now, because obviously we’re keeping him? Or the fact that someone gave a kid to me?”

“Both,” his brother decided. “Definitely both.”

-

“His name’s A-Yuan,” Nie Huaisang said. “Apparently.”

“Well,” his brother said. “Obviously that won’t do.”

-

Nie Huaisang had the ability to be sneaky when he wanted to be. It wasn’t a matter of stealth, he had explained to his brother, but sneakiness– a completely different concept. Stealth suggested that he was doing something to conceal himself and required skills and talent, or else a lot of practice, and obviously Nie Huaisang was not going to go in for either of those.

Sneakiness, though…

He didn’t need people not to be able to see him in order to be sneaky. He just needed them not to care about him, or wonder where he was.

“Psst,” he said, knocking on the window to the rooms where Lan Wangji was purportedly practicing seclusion. “Psst! Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji had given him a child. They were definitely past the ‘Lan-er-gongzi’ stage.

“Lan Zhan!” he rapped at the window with his fan. “We need a courtesy name!”

There was some sounds from within the jingshi, mostly stumbling around. Nie Huaisang waited patiently, and after a few moments the window opened and Lan Wangji stared out at him. He was as pale as a ghost with lips as red as blood, and very clearly not in seclusion at all, but rather in the midst of healing whatever wounds had left him bloody – he probably shouldn’t have gotten out of bed to answer.

Oh, well. Too late for regret now.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lan Wangji said, voice dull and eyes blank as he stared at Nie Huaisang. It was unclear if he meant in the Cloud Recesses generally, or here in particular, interrupting his ‘seclusion’.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Nie Huaisang said, scowling at him. “We need a courtesy name! A courtesy name for the child, you hear me? You know, of course, that Qinghe Nie don’t use personal names, not even for children – certainlynot for children older than their first year. It’d be a complete giveaway that he’s not organically ours if we call him something like A-Yuan.”

Lan Wangji raised a hand to pinch his nose. “Please go away.”

“Courtesy name, Lan Zhan. I mean, I may be the one who’ll be raising him, but please think carefully: do you really want meto be the one naming him?”

“…call him Sizhui.”

“Sizhui,” Nie Huaisang repeated. “With the characters…?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“Uh, no,” Nie Huaisang said. “I need a bettercourtesy name. Are you joking?”

“Nie Huaisang. Go away.”

“But –”

Lan Wangji slammed the window shut.

“…fine,” Nie Huaisang said to the closed window. “Be that way, see if I care. Not like we don’t need to build up a decent coparenting relationship or anything eventually.”

He thought he heard a choking sound from behind the door and smirked.

“Don’t you think you can baby-trap me and just walk away, Lan Zhan,” he said in his best ominous tone. “If you wanted someone to raise your kid without ever consulting you again, you should’ve dropped him off in the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, who’d probably be too busy being confused to even question where he came frome – but no. You came to me. I don’t make decisions in the best of times, least of all good. I have questions. A lot of questions.”

He thought about it for a moment.

“Not about how you got him or anything like that,” he said. “I’m not stupid, I can tell a secret when I see one. But, you know, other types of questions. Parenting stuff. Are you a ‘go sit and think about what you’ve done’ sort of parent? Or more traditional discipline, with copying lines and occasionally strikes when they’re naughty? Do you want him to learn the Lan sect rules along with the Nie sect principles –”

There was a muffled sound from inside the house.

It sounded angry.

“…we can talk about it later,” Nie Huaisang decided. He might’ve pushed his luck a bit too much. “Talk later!”

-

“You have a…what?” Lan Xichen asked, his smile a little fixed and stare a little wilder than normal.

“A nephew!” Nie Mingjue gushed. “Isn’t he wonderful?”

“Nephew.”

“He’s so well behaved, too! He plays quietly by himself most of the time, drawing and even writing a little, and Huaisang’s already teaching him how to play the dizi –”

“When you say nephew, do you mean Nie Huaisang’s child?”

“Do I have other brothers?” Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes at him. “He’s obviously not yours. Anyway, I know Meng Yao is expecting one, too, but he wouldn’t be dressed in Nie colors if it was his, would it?”

“Yes, but…are you telling me that…that Nie Huaisang…”

“It’s a battlefield child, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue said patiently. “Obviously. Someone entrusted him to Huaisang.”

“Oh,” Lan Xichen said, looking relieved. “Yes, that makes more sense…wait.”

Nie Mingjue waited.

“Someone entrusted him to Nie Huaisang?”

“I know, right?” Nie Mingjue said, and Lan Xichen didn’t notice how strained his grin had suddenly become, or how thoughtful his eyes were as he surveyed Lan Xichen as if trying to find an answer to a question. “I would’ve assumed they’d go for someone more responsible, like you. Guess you never know…”

“I guess you don’t,” Lan Xichen agreed, looking down at the child with a bemused expression. A battlefield child, entrusted to Nie Huaisang… “They must have been truly driven to desperation.”

“Perhaps,” Nie Mingjue said, and then changed the subject to little Nie Sizhui’s accomplishments, of which he could list many at great length and very great enthusiasm. By the time he was done with that, Ln Xichen was so overwhelmed that he didn’t ask a single other question.

-

“So I’ve got an idea on how to do this whole co-parenting thing,” Nie Huaisang said, cracking nuts to eat. He was sitting next to Lan Wangji’s bedside, and dropping the shells straight on the floor, too, staring dead-eyed at Lan Wangji as if daring him to say something – which he wouldn’t, of course. “Since with Sizhui starting classes soon it’s become much more urgent, on account of me needing you to attend meetings with his teachers and discuss his progress.”

Lan Wangji looked deeply long-suffering. He’d only invited Nie Huaisang inside because Nie Huaisang had threatened to start shouting out his business loudly on account of oh but Lan Zhan, how was I to know if you could hear me in there, I just had to raise my voice just in case because I wouldn’t want you to miss any of the extremelyimportant news –

It was all Lan Wangji’s fault for being born earlier than Nie Huaisang, Nie Huaisang thought virtuously. It was merely Nie Huaisang’s lot in life to fulfill the role of annoying younger brother to everyone.

“See, it’s the music,” Nie Huaisang continued. “You do music, right?”

Lan Wangji’s ice-cold glare suggested that he did, in fact, ‘do music’.

“So your brother has been playing this song for da-ge on a regular basis,” Nie Huaisang explained, ignoring the glare entirely. “And when he’s not available, which is most of the time nowadays, he’s been sending san-ge instead. Even though, of course, poor san-ge’s so busy back at Lanling all the time…ughh, it’s so unfair, you know! Poor san-ge has to do all the work of being the heir and gets none of the benefits, and they pile even more work on him on top of that – really, he gets no respect.”

Lan Wangji’s expression suggested he didn’t care.

“And think about the inconvenience to us!” Nie Huaisang sallied forth, undeterred. “People coming and going all the time, da-ge having to interrupt his schedule of spending quality time with me and Sizhui – and sect leader work, of course, though that’s less important – in order to march over to greet them and host them and listen to them…what a pain it is!”

Lan Wangji appeared on the verge of suggesting that Nie Huaisang consider getting to the point.

“So you should come do it instead.”

Lan Wangji’s expression cracked, suggesting that Nie Huaisang had actually managed to make an impact.

“You remember,” he said, voice low and a little hoarse from all that refusing to speak he’d been doing. Really, if Nie Huaisang wasn’t around to goad him into it, he might’ve lost the voice entirely – he didn’t even have little Sizhui around to force him to speak! “That I’m in seclusion. Right?”

“You’re horribly lonely is what you are,” Nie Huisang said briskly. “You require company. Therefore, coming to take up a semi-permanent posting in the Unclean Realm to play the Song of Clarity for my brother morning, noon, and night is clearly the finest way to solve all of our problems, and for you to see little Sizhui as often as you like.”

Lan Wangji visibly wavered. “My brother,” he said, then coughed. “My brother will never believe it.”

“That’s your problem,” Nie Huaisang said. “Find a way to sell it.”

He stood, shaking the remaining shells onto the chair.

“See you in Qinghe soon, Lan Zhan..!”

Lan Wangji was trying to kill him with his mind, Nie Huaisang thought happily as he wandered off with a whistle and a vaguely silly expression. Good – he’d been inside for too long. He needed the stimulation.

-

“Truly,” Nie Mingjue remarked, strolling around their gardens without any apparent notice of the small child perched on his shoulders, giggling wildly at the feeling of being tall, “I feel far better than I did before! One can scarcely compare it – night and day, really. Your Lan sect’s Song of Clarity is a marvel, even if it does take a while before it kicks in.”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said, walking slowly with his hands behind his back. He was still unsteady on his feet on account of the absolutely horrific injuries he’d incurred – but if the Lan sect’s response to everything was seclusion, seclusion, seclusion, then the Nie sect’s equivalent response was exercise. These little excursions through the gardens were the result.

Thus far, they were still only doing laps around the main gardens, but Nie Huaisang had plans to eventually force Lan Wangji to go even as far as his own little side garden. He’d made it through his side door once, after all; why not a second time..?

At any rate, Nie Huaisang still wasn’t quite sure how Lan Wangji had talked Lan Xichen into allowing him to come to the Unclean Realm, but it really did make the whole co-parenting business a lot more convenient. And his brother had had so much fun making Lan Wangji stiff and awkward over all his thanks and praise for his decision to come ‘help out’ with Nie Sizhui’s raising until finally, at last, Nie Huaisang had taken pity and revealed that Nie Mingjue knew perfectly well whose battlefield child this was.

Both in terms of who had gifted him to Nie Huaisang, and who’d adopted him originally, and of course even his original surname – The little tot’s been through enough adoptions to make anyone’s head spin, his brother had said, his voice gruff as always. There’s no point in thinking back too far, is there?

Lan Wangji had been very relieved.

“Run, bobo!” Nie Sizhui cried, pointing over at a bird. “We need to get it for Sang-gege!”

Nie Mingjue snorted like a bull but obediently quickened his feet and left the rest of them behind, heading in full charge straight at the wild pheasant that was far more likely to end up on Nie Huaisang’s plate than in his aviary. It was about even odds which one Nie Sizhui meant, anyway.

“Nie Huaisang,” Lan Wangji said, his voice low, and Nie Huaisang looked at him. “The Song of Clarity does not take time to work. These effects should have happened at once.”

Nie Huaisang opened his fan, hiding his face as he frowned. “How odd,” he said. “And after san-ge put in all that hard work.”

“Perhaps he played it wrong.”

“Odd,” Nie Huaisang said again. “When san-ge gets so very little wrong…has your brother sent any word on the Xue Yang issue?”

“…he has not.”

“He’s going to need to pick a side eventually.”

“He does not want to make things difficult for his sworn brother.”

“Does he have only the one?” Nie Huaisang asked archly, and Lan Wangji averted his gaze. “It’s awkward for us if he doesn’t back us, and is a bad look besides…truly, it’s a wonder that san-ge managed to squeeze out the time to come here.”

Lan Wangji’s frown deepened. “Indeed,” he said. “One would think his father might be tempted to stop him.”

“Wouldn’t you just?” Nie Huaisang said. “Wouldn’t you just…you know, maybe when you’re feeling better, we should go visit Lanling ourselves.”

Lan Wangji glanced at him, arching an eyebrow, and Nie Huaisang smiled, fanning himself casually.

“I’m not the only one with a little side door,” he said. “Let’s go knocking and see what we find, shall we?”

[seeaddywrite]

yunmeng bros reconciliation fic rec list (part I)

jiang cheng & wei wuxian reconciliation fics are my favorites, so i thought i’d share some of the hundreds i’ve read in the past few months. please make sure to check the tags in each fic to make sure you’re comfortable. also, if you didn’t notice, i prefer longer fics, so most of these are long. 

i’m calling this part one because i will most likely revisit this as i read more fic. feel free to add your own -- i’m always looking for more, myself! 

under the cut, because it’s a long post.

Jiang Cheng is Trying series by CaptainJoJo (100k+)

“They've been ripped apart for so long, Jiang Cheng doesn't know if there's anything left to salvage.”

this series starts out good, & by the end, is absolutely phenomenal. the most recent installment is called Soft Stones & it’s one of those fics i wish i could erase from my brain so i could read it over and over -- it’s so good. there’s a lot of JC character development, a scene where WWX learns about JC’s sacrifice & so much emotional resonance throughout. plus, bonus JC & Wen Ning friendship?? i just. really love this fic, okay? i think it’s probably my favorite in this genre.

no one lights a candle to remember by asravine (~8k)

““Didi,” Wei Wuxian says softly. His thumb on Jiang Cheng’s cheek is calloused and warm and burns of affection. Jiang Cheng barely stops himself from leaning in. “Didi, don’t cry because of me.”

I have thirteen years of mourning to catch up to, Jiang Cheng thinks, but doesn’t say. As always, the chasm between them is an incredible divide, and Wei Wuxian is the only one leaning his hand out into the darkness.”

the best part of this fic involves Lan Wangji asking JC for his blessing, & that’s all i’m going to say aside from this fic is shorter, but incredibly impactful & wonderful.

some good mistakes by Lise (~18k)

“Wei Wuxian has been wandering alone for six months when he suddenly stops writing. This is deeply concerning to at least a few people. Jiang Cheng is not among them.

No, really, he's not.

(Or, the one where Wei Wuxian vanishes and Lan Wangji, reluctantly, asks for Jiang Cheng's help tracking him down.)”

Lan Zhan & Jiang Cheng have to work together to find & rescue Wei Wuxian. it’s about as awkward as it sounds. important conversations are had, WWX is rescued, there is a hopeful ending, & it’s just wonderful.

everyone else is spring bound by Lise (~18k)

“Jiang Cheng takes a few deep breaths and tries to put his life back together. This is easier said than done.”

another excellent fic by Lise. i think my favorite part of this one is everything Jiang Cheng can’t bring himself to say out loud. 

Death of a Ghost by Gotcocomilk (100k+)

“There was a ghost that haunted the decks of Lotus Pier, it was said. If you stepped across the wooden planks at night, walked along the endless docks and flying purple banners, he would appear.

He was always in darkest black, dressed as specter and shadow. In the emptiness where a face should be was a thick fog, features washed away and leaving behind only glimmering red eyes.

He looked ferocious as a ghoul, it was said.

Jin Ling thought he looked sad.”

i don’t even know where to start with this one, y’all. it was a wild ride. WWX is haunting Lotus Pier & looks after Jin Ling. Reconciliation. Family feelings. Wangxian. Angst & fluff & a truly satisfying ending. One of my overall faves.

Upon Our Silver Bridge by TheWanderingHeart (400k+)

“Lan Xichen's sorrows have caught the attention of something. Unlike the adventures and foes they have faced before, there is no obvious enemy here to defeat. If this is the same thing they thought had taken Nie MingJue's life, then he believes it is fated for him to die as well. Nothing can stop the black fire when it wants to burn.

Jiang Cheng is sure his part in this is over. Wei Wuxian is back, his grand adventure concluded, and he'd never been at the centre of it anyway. So what does it matter what happens to him in the end?

Slowly, he will come to realise that there will always be a battle to fight, a story to tell, a choice to make, and there is no such thing as an end to anything.”

holy shit, where do i even start with this one. it’s primarily Xichen/JC, so if that’s not your thing, i’m sorry -- but. BUT. there are some absolutely gorgeous jiang cheng & wwx scenes. they talk about the golden core swap. wwx eavesdrops & learns about things he didn’t know from JC’s end, & it definitely counts as a reconciliation fic even if that’s not the main plotline. also, one of my overall faves, not just in this genre but the entire fandom. so. flipping. good. 

The Heart’s Reasoning by flowercity (11k+)

“Jiang Cheng was absolutely certain that when push came to shove, he would be the one to drive the fatal blow into Wei Wuxian. But now that the man is actually dying in front of him, only one thought rushes to his head: that he will not let this happen.

That day in the Burial Mounds, Jiang Cheng makes a selfish choice.”

Canon Divergent -- basically, JC saves WWX before he dies. Baby Jin Ling. angst & happiness & good stuff. 

before you stumble by anonymous (~10k)

“ “Uncle,” Jin Ling says. “Just because Uncle Wei - I mean, Wei Wuxian - just because he’s leading the night-hunt, he’s teaching, he’s not doing anything wrong, he even notified you ahead of time -”

The thing is, it is the polite thing to do. Whatever the Lan Sect are after in the night-hunt doesn’t have anything to do with Jiang Cheng, but now that they’re about to enter Yunmeng, it is the polite and proper thing to do, to notify the sect leader of the fact. The letter is simply such: letting Jiang Wanyin, the Yunmeng Jiang Sect Leader, know that they’re here. It’s simply - official correspondence.

Maybe that’s the part that rankles the worst, Jiang Cheng thinks. Official correspondence, written to him in a hand more familiar than his own.”

this is a case fic in which both WWX & JC are idiots, but work together with the juniors involved. there’s a lot of bickering, a metaphor, & a hopeful ending, & it’s great!

JC & WWX’s Get Along Sweater (series) by newamsterdam (~30k)

“Convinced Jiang Cheng and Wei WuXian will never reconcile of their own accord, Jin Ling takes matters into his own hands by trapping both of his uncles alone, together, without their cultivation.”

i think this is the very first MDZS fic i read when i finished the drama, & it’s still one of the ones i remember most. it’s just -- impactful. Jiang Cheng made WWX a promise about dogs and he does his best to keep it, & i just. wow. 

And Time is But a Paper Moon by sami (120k+, WIP) 

"Zewu-Jun. You once told me about a house surrounded by gentians, where you visited once a month, and how Lan Zhan still waited there, even when the door no longer opened."

Xichen feels light-headed. He feels shocked, and angry. He has never told anyone such a thing, but Lan Zhan is giving Xichen a look of utter betrayal.

"You told him?" Lan Zhan whispers. "When?"

Wei Wuxian takes Lan Zhan's hand. "About twenty years from now."

Time travel fic! there are million more of them, but not all do much for JC & WWX. this one isn’t necessarily a reconciliation because WWX goes back in time and makes sure they never abandon each other, but it’s got some really great scenes for the two of them, & JC has to deal with WWX’s memories of his old self & the sacrifices he made for him then, & it’s just a really wonderful fic all around. it’s currently a WIP but it’s updated three times a week & the author’s finished it already. :)

[doomstypewriter]

16

I finally brought myself to writing something for the Untamed/Mdzs fandom, would you look at that! 

This fic consists of one chapter and an epilogue (that I shall write next week). 

AO3

Summary:  A collection of moments over the years in which Lan Wangji waits and struggles to survive his grief. -- How could someone so vocal in life lay so silent in death? Missing. Wei Ying’s spirit was missing from the land; his body too, not even there to bury, to memorialise. He would never dress in anything but white for the remainder of his life. Wei Ying was missing and Lan Zhan missed him.

Words: 2439

TW:  This is heavy on angst. Really heavy, and at some points it can kinda hint at depression (not fully, but I have left a window for it to be able to be interpreted as such). It also deals with a lot of grief. (If there are any other things that I need to add to this list, please, do tell me).

“It must be one of the worst ways of suffering, to lose someone you hold so dearly, don’t you agree, Hanguang-Jun?” 

Jin Guangyao’s comment caught him by surprise. Today was not a day in which he felt with the disposition to gift his attention liberally, less after having spent it on listening to the rest of the sect’s leaders.

They had gathered in a council to discuss politics and, of course, the repercussions of demonic cultivation two years after its founder had passed away. Exactly two years later.

Nobody had let go unnoticed the entrance of Jiang Wanyin. It did not seem out of the ordinary, given that he found himself leading one of the most powerful sects, however, that was not the reason why he stood out. Even if every eye had set on him, no one had the guts to stare at his face on the second anniversary of his shijie’s death. 

Maybe that is why refocusing his attention from a place of bitter introspection to a conversation he did not wish to have served him of very little comfort. Anyhow, he could not afford to offend Lianfang-Zun.

Before he even got the chance to intervene, his interlocutor spoke again: 

“My apologies”, he retracted with the usual mastery, “perhaps today is not the best time to talk of such things, having so many other important matters to discuss”. 

A glance at the expression of veiled pity and shame that his brother and Jin Guangyao, respectively, shared let him know what they had said wordlessly. A warning, or rather a petition. “Please treat the grief of my brother with kindness”. 

Lan Wangji nodded, not knowing any better way to reply. 

‘Ah, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, you never say much, do you? Don’t worry, I’ll speak for both of us’ that’s what Wei Ying would have said, had he been there, with his lively smile and his skills balancing Lan Wangi’s own. 

There was no response. 

Yet another evening without an answer. 

He did not believe that his fingertips could hurt after years being used to playing for hours, to testify for that were the callouses he’d earned with the extensive practice that had made him such a good instrumentalist and fighter. Yet, the pain still flowed from the strings to his fingers, howling through chords without response.

How could someone so vocal in life lay so silent in death? 

Missing. 

Wei Ying’s spirit was missing from the land; his body too, not even there to bury, to memorialise. He would never dress in anything but white for the remainder of his life. 

Wei Ying was missing and Lan Zhan missed him. 

His uncle gave him an eyebrow raise in all but the expression when he chose A-Yuan’s courtesy name. Lan Wangji could not help but to get a sense of estrangement by looking at his shifu, when had it become like this? By asking that, he did not mean the open air of disapproval in their conversations, that started the moment Lan Wangji fell in love with Wei Ying and consolidated itself when he attacked the elders, he knew as much. No. 

When had his uncle begun to see Wangji as a looking glass, that offered passage to a vision of his own worst nightmares and greatest failures? 

Even worse, how could he have become the living ghost of his father? 

Shizui meant to yearn. His uncle could tell who Lan Wangji was yearning for, but could he see his own yearning, the agony present in his eyes every time he watched him and Xichen? Most likely. The knowledge of that truth must weigh heavily. 

The arrival back to Gusu was swift. Both he and his brother traveled light, as per usual when urgent matters occurred. 

Such was the case of a conflict regarding intense resentful energy within Qinghe, for which Sect Leader Nie Huaisang had appointed them. An outburst of demonic energy had subjected great commotion within a minor city and was said to need urgent attention. Nie Huaisang, not knowing how to deal with the issue himself and concerned to further disclose it to the other sects, as it would surely catch the eye of Jiang Wanyin and arise his own resentment over a certain somebody, had instead opted for writing to his brother and request his help. Upon reading the letter, Xichen asked for his assistance in this occasion, saying that their uncle could attend to the matters of the Lan Sect in their absence. Lan Wangji obliged. 

The incident turned out to be, indeed, of most interest. A circle of local and external parties had reunited inside of a crypt hidden beneath an inn to perform a ritual of sorts. As a direct consequence, the establishment above, along with all of their clients, had been blown away by the never-before-seen resentful energy. He had recommended for the place to be sealed off and purified every ten days for the next twenty years to ensure the safety of those living in the city. His brother and him then focused on shedding some light on how it all came to be, but were unable to reach a satisfactory clarification, given that the main culprits had perished and Inquiry proved to be ineffective. They theorised their spiritual conscience had been shattered, too, by the resentment’s magnitude. 

After almost three weeks away, they set back to Gusu, promising to further investigate using the resources within the library, but settled the matter closed for the time being. Riding their swords was most welcome as a means of travel, reducing the journey to two days, instead of the week it would take by land. 

Gentians’ fragrance filled the air on his path back to the Jingshi. Reluctantly, he admitted to himself he had missed the comfort of its familiarity. Even if said familiarity meant the pang of memories and grief, returning gave him a sense of peace. 

He entered his living quarters. Any and all thought left his head with what presented before him. Not what, who. 

“Lan Zhan!” 

Wei Wuxian sat by the desk, drinking from one of the uncovered vases of his hidden stack of Emperor’s Smile. 

“Don’t look at me like that”, he pouted. “I know it’s against the rules, but you can’t possibly be so mean to someone who has just traveled for a week to see you” Wei Wuxian finished adding a smile. 

“You’re back”. 

He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. An air of doubt passed through his expression. 

“You once asked me to come to Gusu with you”.  

“Hmm”.

“What can I say, it is your fault for not saying when…” 

Wei Wuxian stood up, leaving the wine behind, to get to where Lan Wangji stood. 

“Now I’m here, can I be here?” he stole a quick glance at Lan Wangji’s hands, as if trying to make up his mind, and then took both in his, bringing the two pairs together in between them. “What I’m saying is, I want to stay by your side, teach A-Yuan to shoot arrows, feed the rabbits, and whatever boring things you do in Gusu, I want to do those with you”. 

Wei Ying’s smile hid a shade of embarrassment, the novelty of a realisation, a confession. 

This very thing gave Lan Wangji a surge of confidence to kiss the hands that intertwined with his. A softness enveloped each kiss, not only because of the pressure but for the years of longing enclosed in each contact. 

“You love me”. 

“Ah, Hanguang-Jun, am I such a bad influence that you’ve become this shameless? What would your uncle say?” Wei Ying gifted him with a mischievous grin. “Don’t be mad, Lan Zhan, I’m only teasing you, it’s too easy”. 

A trembled ensued when the pressure of Wei Ying’s lips caressed his hands, mirroring his previous gesture. 

“I do love you”. 

Oh. Lan Wangji said to himself. 

Another realisation. 

“Wei Ying did not love me”. 

The one in front of him laughed in response. 

“If so, then who am I?” 

Lan Wangji closed his eyes and kissed his forehead, making him catch his breath. 

“Not real”. 

He woke up to the tickling of tears. A trail of bitterness stained his face. The merciless reality of the image of the Jingshi, turned monochrome by the dimness of night, rendered him helpless. How small it seemed to be in a world made so big by the hole torn with Wei Ying’s absence. His heart’s willingness to deny the facts, to rush back and check the Burial Mounds once again, surfaced yet another night. This vain disposition had to be snuffed out. Wei Ying would not come back to Gusu with him. 

And the knowledge of said truth did grow heavily indeed. 

A-Yuan, now turned Lan Shizui, grew up faster than anticipated. 

Of course, that was not true. Everybody becomes older at a steady pace, set by time only. And yet… the years had seemed to merge in such a way that it simultaneously appeared to him that an eternity had been caught in the blink of an eye, but he had not possessed a second to taste it. How could he? Moreso when the aftertaste left such sourness. 

If only Wei Ying could have guided Shizui for all these years. He had to wonder how their… his son would have turned out to be. Would they recognise each other in the sharpness of their minds? Could Wei Ying’s smile show on Shizui’s face as more than the infrequent sliver he so desperately searched for? Seeking it just to feel shame at his boldness immediately afterwards. He had always vowed to treat Shizui as his own person, succeeding at it for the most part, but, at certain points in time he could not help but to ponder on the shadow his former soulmate casted onto the child. 

Oftentimes Shizui came to the Jingshi to practice his skills on the guqin. Most should assume he did so in order to receive advice regarding his playing, such was the case… almost every time. There were moments, seconds, in which he could see the pride in Shizui’s eyes. Of course, such behaviour was forbidden and he quickly censored himself. 

But it was there, nonetheless. 

“You stopped” Lan Wangji observed, finally, opening his eyes and dropping his meditation position. 

Shizui looked up from the table in which he had laid out a piece of paper and writing utensils. When did he do that? Oh, Lan Wangji must have been too entertained by his own thoughts to notice it in time. 

“Yes, I did. Should I go over the pieces again, father?” he asked, gesturing to retrieve the guqin. 

“That won’t be needed”.

“Then I will be leaving momentarily, it will be nine in not so long”. 

Lan Wangji answered by giving a small nod.

 “Thank you…”

“What is it?” 

“I made this once I finished practicing”. 

Shizui moved towards him, holding the piece of paper loosely in his hand. He placed it carefully on the table in front of Lan Wangji. And there it was: a drawing. Not unlike the one Wei Ying had made of him so many years ago. The style appeared far less whimsical, yet, not as observant as it’s counterpart. How unfortunate, the implications of said realisation. Did Wei Ying pay attention to him to such an extent?

No need to wander about what could have been. For it was pointless. 

Shizui’s linework showed off preciseness and finesse, paired up with a great sense of depth in the interpretation of lights and shadows. Lan Wangji could not help but to smile at the display of talent. 

“Thank you, A-Yuan”. 

In spite of having stated his intent to leave, Shizui stood in front of him, as if debating something. Finally, he seemed to make up his mind. Right after a change of expression, he threw himself at Lan Wangji’s side and hugged him tightly.  

“Hmm?” 

“I’m afraid. Sometimes you leave somewhere distant, father, and I’m afraid”. 

‘Please…’ Lan Wangji pleaded stricken with panic. 

Mishearing a collection of sounds. 

If someone had told him that would bring upon him the most terrifying experience of his life… Lan Wangji would have simply given them a look of disdain. How could that elicit fear from him when he had been witness to the love of his life letting go of one bleeding arm. He thought about the Xuanwu of Slaughter, that cave where Wei Ying had fallen asleep while he sang to him, looking so pale it almost appeared as if death had claimed him already and spared him. Gods, death had pardoned him from falling alongside Wei Ying! He could think of no greater torture. 

And yet, he found himself running like a desperate man through the outskirts of Dafan Mountain, dodging natural obstacles with none of his usual poise. 

An eco. 

That’s what had set him so far off who he had barely managed to see himself become during the last sixteen years. His spirit, his heart, mummified shrouded by the mourning clothes he had begun to wear to somehow memorialise the departure of his life. 

That attire flung forward and backwards, moved by the winds. 

Please. 

Jin Guangyao was right, all those years ago. Now that maybe, maybe, he could be returned to him, loosing him again would only bear the worst king of suffering. 

Have this not be another call without answer. 

No matter what uncle saw when he stared at him. 

He would accept any new whip scar a thousand times over to just have him be real, wake up in a world where he existed. 

Anything. 

Anything would be better than missing him so. Better than the memory of the initial years, spending every night crying himself to sleep for the first time in his life. Better than breathing just to pretend the sensation filled the empty within his lungs. 

He ran. He ran like his life depended on it, because, maybe, it did. 

With each step the world burned and it didn’t matter. The sound became clearer and nothing else mattered. He had lived through sixteen years of snuffing hopefulness and finding sustenance in the memory of a song he had once sung in a cave, but, now that he heard it, maybe it had been worth it. 

He began to sprint in spite of how scary the idea of a world with him suddenly became, a place where he could lose him again. His figure almost flew across the forest, because he would not allow it. Lan Wangji was never losing Wei Ying twice.  

Right then, he reached the clearing.

Thanks a lot for reading!!! If I butchered the spelling of some name or term, please tell me!

[satonthelotuspier]

Like Spring Rain. Like Starlight.

A Beginning - This is Ending No 2

Lan Xichen has chosen to embrace the future, and continue with their plan to bring Nie Mingjue back to consciousness.

Lan Xichen exchanged a glance with Nie Huaisang; as Wen Ning continued, “I would have missed out on so much if Wei-gongzi hadn’t brought me back, Lan-zongzhu. I would have never seen how A-Yuan had grown, I would never have had extra, precious years with jiejie and Wei-gongzi and my relatives at the Burial Mounds, and I’m able to be a part of A-Yuan’s life now. There’s a lot to be thankful for.” The Ghost General had spoken honestly and from his heart, and it touched Lan Xichen, and allowed him to finally, and in good conscience make his decision.

Lan Xichen closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them he saw a new, determined look on Nie Huaisang’s face.

“Let’s go.” He lead the other’s out of the Hanshi and to the hall, where the other Sect Leaders had gathered.

He firstly spoke of their plan, and why they had reasonable expectation of success, and Wen Ning spoke of Fierce Corpses, and how different it was for one to retain their own consciousness; how he still retained his feelings for those he considered his family and friends.

Then the Jiang Sect Leader spoke up, “it’s all very well, Lan-zongzhu, expecting us to agree to you bringing your husband back to consciousness; it would be simply lovely for you, but why should the rest of us agree to this?” there were muttered agreements among the other sect leaders.

It was nothing Lan Xichen hadn’t expected to be questioned on; so he merely smiled at Jiang Wanyin.

“Jiang-zongzhu, a single act may be many things to many people. If I merely expected you to bring my husband back then indeed it would benefit no one else, there are other considerations, however.”

“Please, do enlighten us, Lan-zongzhu.”

“With pleasure, Jiang-zongzhu. Your current seal will last a hundred years. That means in a hundred years Nie Mingjue’s corpse-” he tried not to choke on the word, “-will be your children’s, or your children’s children’s problem. And the seal may be renewed for another hundred years, which moves the problem even further down the family tree. However, we have the Grandmaster of the discipline here and now, and willing to deal with the question of what to do, here and now, saving every clan time, effort and cost in guarding the tomb,” he could sense with the promise of lessened cost and effort he had some of the smaller sects giving his words serious thought. He still had to convince Jiang Wanyin, however.

“What about the Yin Tiger Seal that’s currently buried with Nie Mingjue?” Jiang Wanyin asked.

“Another excellent reason to open the tomb, and let Wei Wuxian destroy the final half once and for all. Or what happens if in another hundred years we have a Jin Guangshan, who covets it’s power, is able to procure it, and have someone rebuild it from the scraps as Xue Yang was able to? It may bring back my husband, Jiang-zongzhu, but it will be forestalling a very dangerous potential future problem to everyone’s benefit.”

There was something like a mocking smile cross Jiang Wanyin’s lips then, and for a moment Lan Xichen felt his heart sink in disappointment.

“You seem to have thought everything through in detail, Lan-zongzhu. It appears it would be to Yunmeng Jiang’s benefit to deal with the situation in the present. I therefore give you my agreement”

Some of the smaller clans expressed theirs immediately.

“Lanling Jin agrees.” Jin Rulan added his agreement to his uncle’s.

“Qinghe Nie agrees.” Nie Huaisang sounded unusually decisive in his support.

Seeing the way the wind was blowing most of the other sects had to follow the consensus.

***

Later, after many of the other sects had taken their leave; the pre-meeting delegation gathered again in the hall; with one other addition in Jiang Wanyin.

“You really had me going, Jiang-xiong,” Nie Huaisang tapped his folded fan against the other man’s shoulder in a recognisably coquettish move.

“Well I had to be the loudest voice in opposition, to take the stilts out from underneath the rest when I finally agreed.” Jiang Wanyin caught the hand holding the fan, “Don’t forget you owe me.”

“Thank you for your agreement, Jiang-zongzhu,” Lan Xichen saluted the other, but Nie Huaisang waved a hand in dismissal.

“Nonsense, er-ge, we came up with the plan to ensure the room went the way we wanted it to. Aren’t I smart? And how could Jiang-xiong not agree when if he hadn’t it would have left him...without.”

“Nie Huaisang!” Jiang Wanyin exclaimed, blushing hotly while Wei Wuxian let out a loud, delighted howl of a laugh.

“Jiang Cheng, you little cat,” he exclaimed, and even Lan Xichen had to hide his smile behind his sleeve.

“You talk like blackmail is the only reason I agreed, you little shit” Jiang Wanyin snapped, “I already told you I thought it was a situation we should deal with sooner rather than later, I don’t only think with...with that.”

“Of course, A-Cheng” there was a tone of indulgence in Nie Huaisang’s voice Lan Xichen had never heard before as he leant in to place a quick, teasing peck against the Jiang Sect Leader’s lips.

“We’ll keep in touch, er-ge, please begin the preparations we discussed,” Nie Huaisang said as he guided Jiang Wanyin out of the hall. They were replaced almost immediately by Lan Qiren and several elders. The former’s face resembled thunder.

Lan Xichen straightened his already rather ramrod-like spine, it was time to face the consequences of his actions; and he intended to follow through on his promise to ensure his brother and brother-in-law didn’t suffer for agreeing to help him.

“Wen Ning, perhaps you should take your leave of A-Yuan” Wei Wuxian suggested, and the other followed his advice and left the hall, as Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian moved to stand next to Lan Xichen.

“Shufu, elders” Lan Xichen acknowledged them, and the three bowed in unison.

“I am tired of making the same speeches to you all over and over, and it travelling in one ear and out of the other. Therefore, as I do not feel like repeating myself, and you are fully aware of the rules you have broken, I will merely assign you each five strokes of the discipline whip. With time to reflect on your immoral, selfish behaviour perhaps you will come to your senses. Though I have my doubts.

“You have both inherited every bad trait of your father, and my years of influence have done nothing to temper them” his uncle couldn’t even look him in the eyes when he pronounced their punishment.

Lan Xichen, as Sect Leader, of course had the authority to veto his Shufu’s orders; however, just as with his brother’s, as much as it had hurt him, he didn’t feel like he could; Lan Qiren had been the Sect Leader in everything but name for many years due to the situation with his father, and Lan Xichen had achieved the rank only by accident of birth on the passing of his father. By all rights it should have been Lan Qiren, who had had to step up to the role again when Lan Xichen had retreated into seclusion after the Guanyin Temple.

There was something he could do this time, however.

“As you wish, Shufu. I accept your punishment, but defer Wei Wuxian’s and Lan Wangji’s punishment onto myself. I am the rule-breaker, and I will bear the consequences as is only fair.”

“Xiongzhang...” Lan Wangji protested.

“Wangji, I promised you I would be the only one to suffer for this. Please continue with the plans as discussed with the other Sects. I will join you as soon as I’m able. You may both go now”

“Xiongzhang,” unusually Wangji didn’t follow Lan Xichen’s first order, “Your body is barely  healed from your time in seclusion...”

“You can’t currently take that many, Xichen-ge,” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, “Please, just reject the punishment.”

“That is enough, both of you. Please leave, you have work to do, mine is done for the present,”

They didn’t argue further. Lan Qiren finally looked at Lan Xichen as they left.

“You are foolish and stubborn, it’s a family failing. Your obsession with this one man brought you nothing but ruin, you can’t even hope for an ending as happy as Wangji’s, as coincidentally as that was achieved.”

“What you refer to as my obsession is love, Shufu, and I would choose ruin a thousand times in a thousand different lives if that’s what his love was to me. I am aware we cannot all be as lucky as Wangji to be given a genuine second chance, however.

“Do as you will, Shufu, I know my own guilt.”

***

Under Lan Wangji’s careful supervision, the plans they had set into place were acted upon, and the sealed sarcophagus was taken to the Burial Mounds under the guard of several different sects. The Burial Mounds had been designated as a safe space away from the general population, and gave Wei Wuxian the quiet and peace he needed to work.

The other sects had set up to guard at the foot of the mountain, to act as a line of defence for anything wishing to either enter or leave over the repaired walls.

The chains the Jins had used to bind fierce corpses had been procured, and Wei Wuxian had prepared many of the talismans he’d used on Wen Ning many years ago.

Lan Xichen arrived just as they prepared to open the sarcophagus and made an admirable show of pretending he wasn’t on the point of physical collapse.

Several other clan leaders were in attendance in order to ensure the Yin Tiger Seal was dealt with in accordance with agreements made.

When the sarcophagus was finally opened it caused a thrill of shock through the crowd.

It was discovered only the calm fierce corpse of Nie Mingjue was interred inside; there was no trace of the Yin Tiger Seal, or Jin Guangyao.

Lan Xichen closed his eyes; he tried to tell himself it was merely that Nie Mingjue had shattered the other to dust in their enforced mutual burial, but in his sinking heart, and because of the Yin Tiger Seal’s absence, he knew it couldn’t be that simple.

Jiang Wanyin stepped forward from where he had been offering silent support to Nie Huaisang; “We know the sarcophagus was under the strict watch of several sects at any given time, from the moment it was moved to the moment it was opened. We need to find out who had access to the tomb before that, who could have spirited the Yin Tiger Seal and that dogs corpse away.” Jiang Wanyin looked at Wei Wuxian, “Continue as we agreed with returning Nie Mingjue, I’ll ask a couple of other sects to volunteer manpower and we’ll start to investigate. We’ll tear the world apart stone by stone to find that seal if we have to”

“You can have Nie Sect disciples, if I have to rip that piece of shit apart with my own hands to ensure he’s dead and stays it this time, I will” Nie Huaisang said with something approaching a snarl in his voice.

“Take Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi, they’re smart and capable boys” Wei Wuxian suggested, and Lan Wangji mn’ed his agreement, “Just ensure you look after them, alright?”

Jiang Wanyin nodded, obviously holding back his natural urge to snark at Wei Wuxian.

Jin Rulan leapt forward at the mention of his friends being involved, “I’ll help too, jiujiu”

***

So the investigation, lead by Jiang Wanyin, began, and as everyone eventually left once the opening of the sarcophagus had been completed it left Wei Wuxian to get on with the very serious work of returning Nie Mingjue to consciousness.

Lan Xichen had prepared himself a cot a little deeper in to the Demon Slaughtering Cave to enable him to begin his own recovery, but he rarely spent much time in it, preferring instead to sit by Nie Mingjue’s side, out of Wei Wuxian’s way, despite Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji’s urgings he was doing himself no good, nor was his constant presence necessary.

Several weeks passed; Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng occasionally visited to check their progress, and to report their own, but nothing much changed on either side of the Burial Mounds wall.

***

It was some time later when Lan Xichen was woken from one of the rare full nights of sleep he took to the sound of a commotion. He leapt up and rushed towards the noise, only pausing long enough to summon Shuoyue with his spiritual energy.

He arrived to find the chains that had held the, until now, calm, fierce corpse of Nie Mingjue down, had snapped in several places and his figure now flailed around the cave. He knocked Wei Wuxian who didn’t dodge fast enough through the air and into the cave wall.

“Nie Mingjue!” At the sound of the voice Nie Mingjue spun, and made his way in the direction it had come from.

“Xiongzhang, move” Lan Wangji called urgently as he helped a slightly dazed Wei Wuxian to his feet.

Collecting himself, Wei Wuxian raised Chenqing to his lips at the same time as the first chords from Wangji’s guqin sounded out inside the cave.

Rather than have Nie Mingjue turn back on them while they worked to try and soothe him, however, Lan Xichen called out again.

“Mingjue-gege.”

Rather than angry now, Nie Mingjue seemed to be questioning, searching, as he continued to step towards Lan Xichen, who held his ground.

Nie Mingjue stopped in front of him, and seemed to examine him briefly, but before Lan Xichen could react he reached up and caught Lan Xichen by the neck.

“Xiongzhang” Lan Wangji called.

He caught hold of the other’s wrists but of course there was nothing he could do to loosen the iron-like grip of the fierce corpse.

He was suddenly slammed against the wall of the cave, and the damage it did to the fresh discipline whip wounds on his back forced tears from his eyes and a mouthful of blood to rise up his throat. It sprayed the front of Nie Mingjue’s robes.

It seemed to make the other pause, and his grip loosened a little.

Nie Mingjue reacted like he’d been burned as the first tears rolled down Lan Xichen’s cheeks and touched his hands, and he let go of Lan Xichen’s throat and raised them to his eyeline, as if to carefully examine the teardrops.

Lan Xichen had collapsed to his knees upon release, vomiting more blood onto the ground.

“Starlight,” the voice was rough, gravelly, pushed through vocal chords that hadn’t made a sound for too many years. “Like starlight.”

Lan Xichen’s fingers flexed against the rock floor of the cave at both the voice and at the specific words used; he reached up to lock one hand in Mingjue’s robes.

He didn’t seem to notice for the moment, “Like spring rain. Like starlight,” Nie Mingjue repeated. A sudden, violent tremor shook his body.

“Where’s my Starlight?” There was an element of panic in his voice.

Lan Xichen used the hand in his robes to tug on them urgently, “I’m here. I’m right here Mingjue-gege.” he tried to climb to his feet but his knees still wobbled and wouldn’t support him.

Strong arms scooped him up instead, and he was held tenderly against Nie Mingjue’s chest.

Lan Xichen looked into Nie Mingjue’s dark eyes, and saw awareness in their depths for the first time in so long that the tears came again.

“It’s really you. You came back to me. I love you, Nie Mingjue.” There would be time later for his apologies and his regrets, but now was the time for happiness and celebration. Lan Xichen reached out to cup that familiar, well-loved face in his hands, then with a wide, happy smile he allowed unconsciousness to finally take him.

***

Lan Wangji moved over to the pair as Nie Mingjue’s throat let out a half-growl of worry and fear, “Mingjue-xiong, Xiongzhang is gravely wounded, he needs rest, but he will be fine.”

Nie Mingjue turned his eyes on Lan Wangji, “Wangji? What happened to Xichen?”

“He was beaten with the discipline whip for his part in returning you to consciousness. He has not been in the best health, and you were quite rough with him. You have a lot to be caught up on, so may I suggest you take Xiongzhang to Qinghe and ensure he takes as much rest as he needs to fully recuperate this time? I know Huaisang-xiong will be eager to see you, and no doubt give you the full account of events.”

Nie Mingjue was fixated on just one part of Lan Wangji’s sentence, “What is it with you stupid Lan men and the discipline whip?”

A small, amused smile pulled at Lan Wangji’s mouth, and he reached out a hand behind him, which Wei Ying took, and allowed Lan Wangji to pull him in to his side, “Mingjue-xiong, the Lans just recognise that some loves are worth the consequences.”

“Wei Wuxian.” Nie Mingjue recognised not the face, but the fact there would be no other man by Lan Wangji’s side, “it seems Huaisang-didi indeed has a lot of story to fill in.”

“Take care of brother for us.”

Nie Mingjue nodded; it didn’t even need to be said that of course he would.

They left for Qinghe soon after.

“Do you think we should have warned him about Huaisang and Jiang Wanyin?” Lan Wangji asked Wei Ying who was still tucked into his side.

“Absolutely not,”  the other wormed out from under his arm and threw his own around Lan Wangji’s neck; he began to rain teasing kisses against his husbands face, “but I can’t wait to hear Huaisang’s account of how Nie Mingjue chased Jiang Cheng around Qinghe when he does find out. Now take your genius husband home, Lan Zhan, it’s been a long, long few months.”

“Mn.” Lan Wangji agreed.

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