Chapter Text
~
Wei Wuxian could barely open his eyes; it felt like there was glue sealing the lids shut. Vaguely, he could sense light above him, but not much else without his eyes opening.
Hadn’t he just awoken from the dead? No, that’s not right…
As he attempted to get up, console the splitting headache as he attempted to recollect the past few days, lashes of fire licked up his back.
The injured man realised he was laid face down on some bed, in some infirmary, and groaned.
From his position on his stomach, with his chest elevated by a pillow, breathing was a laborious task all in itself. Additionally, Wei Wuxian’s arms were positioned to either side of his body; he’d be unable to move them easily. The lashes leaving his back aflame were not contained to just his back. They curled over his biceps and slid over the back of his forearms.
He would not be leaving this room anytime soon- he wouldn’t be leaving this position anytime soon! Fate really had it out for him, he lamented.
The wind outside the window swayed rhythmically, and brought along with it the scent of pungent medicinal herbs. Somehow, Wei Wuxian just knew he was still in Lotus Pier. When Jiang Cheng had first glared at him on Mount Dafan, Wei Wuxian had known to the marrow of his bones that Jiang Cheng had hated him; but he hadn’t expected the pure extent of that hatred.
When Jiang Cheng stood over him, whip in hand, Wei Wuxian was sure the new Jiang-Zonzhu had intent to kill.
The pure fact that he opened his eyes was a miracle. In their time together, Wei Wuxian had not known his old shidi to be particularly forgiving.
Still, as fresh air circulated throughout the room and flooded his fresh wounds, the cultivator cringed. There had to be a deeper reason as to why he was still alive, and he was not too keen to find that out.
~
When Jiang Wanyin set his sights on “Mo Xuanyu,” the light bearer knew what he had to do.
When the furious clan leader had first targeted the young cultivator, Lan Wangji had been aggravated; in all the years that had passed since the Siege of the Burials mounds, Lan Wangji had never forgotten Jiang Wanyin’s role. The cultivator was never one to hold grudges, but how could he not when it came to Wei Ying?
When the Yiling Laozu died, so did a part of his soul. Not a day went by that he did not mourn the loss of his beloved, that he did not wonder what Wei Ying would think of Lan Wangji after all these years.
He could not help it, whenever he saw Jiang Wanyin, he spoke as little as possible. He could not help his embitterment, but he could at least be mature. Jiang Wanyin as the Lord of Lotus Pier was like all the other Clan leaders in the Cultivation World; caring little for the people living in their land, and all too much for the opinions of other self-righteous cultivators.
Of course, he had heard plenty of stories of the other man’s quest to vanquish demonic cultivators from the Jianghu, but Lan Wangji tried not to believe petty gossip from drunkards in the restaurants of inns. However, now, watching him poised to strike the young cultivator with a high-class spiritual weapon, Lan Wangji could not help but feel enraged.
Much to the ire of Jiang Wanyin, Hanguang-Jun stepped in between himself and Mo Xuanyu. Lan Wangji couldn’t help but see his Wei Ying in the younger man, and if he let Jiang Wanyin take out his rage on a random boy he wouldn’t be able to keep calling himself the light bringer.
Jiang Wanyin had been disgusted with his interference, but there were more pressing matters that both needed to attend to.
~
Lan Wangji in those first critical years could barely stomach the thought of Wei Wuxian being dead. It was just unimaginable as he laid feverish in the Jingshi.
It was a process to comprehend a world without Wei Ying; it was a struggle he fought everyday. Some days it was a stray stone on shoulder, and others a bolder on his back. Sizhui made it better, and the other juniors, too. Lan Wangji did his best to live his life in a way that made himself happy, and would hopefully, have made Wei Ying proud too.
Even so, all of those days of longing, yearning, could not have prepared the peerless cultivator for this.
The ‘lunatic’ Mo Xuanyu playing his song, their song.
A sprig of starlight contained big, grey, eyes staring straight back at his.
They were on an unassuming mountain in the middle of a junior’s night hunt.
His heart hammered in his chest, reverberating throughout his body and he held Wei Ying’s wrist like a lifeline.
It was unbelievable, unrealistic, impossible. But here and now, standing in front of him, was Wei Ying.
He didn’t know, and he didn’t care how this happened; all that truly mattered was that he was back.
The body he now inhabited bore a striking resemblance to Wei Ying’s own- or perhaps Wei Ying commanded the body so completely. His eyes, always so expressive, were completely unique.
Especially so, was when Wei Ying was filled with determination.
Clenched in his hand was a hastily crafted bamboo flute, and a song- their song- whistled across the wind. The fact that it was being used to quell the Ghost General scarcely mattered at this moment; colors returned to his vision, the music back to his heartbeat.
His life, stagnant and slow, had returned to its former glory once again.
Lan Wangji swore to himself in that moment that he would never let go again.
But he failed.
~
If Lan Wangji swore, he would swear right now. He cringed as he watched Wei Ying, masquerading as a cutsleeve lunatic, run off into the brush on Dafan Mountain.
As a cultivator, it should be trivial work to track down someone like Mo Xuanyu; but with the juniors surrounding him, along with plenty of Jiang disciples, Lan Wangji couldn’t follow.
As long as he got away from danger- as long as he was safe.
Lan Wangji would not be selfish and demand more from Wei Ying. Wei Ying had given up so much already.
Consequently, once he finished corralling his students, Wei Ying was nowhere to be seen; along with a select few members of the Jiang Clan.
~
“H-hanguang-Jun,” a junior started nervously, “where are you going?”
Sizhui and Jingyi glanced at each other, then looked back at Lan Wangji curiously. The disciples were safe in an inn and dining, so Lan Wangji figured this was a good point to take his leave.
Taking a deep breath in, Lan Wangji betrayed no emotion as he replied to the younger. He didn’t want to cause them any alarm. “In the morning, pay the keeper with this,” he instructed, handing the student a hefty bag of silver. “I have business to attend to in Yunmeng. Please return to the Cloud Recesses in a timely manner at first light tomorrow.”
At the mention of Yunmeng, the disciples became apprehensive. Even the few hours they spent in the presence of the Sandu-Shengshou had made a lasting impression on the young ones. Lan Wangji didn’t blame them.
“Hanguang-Jun, are you going alone?” Jingyi blurted, as usual. Lan Wangji only nodded in reply. The rest of the disciples listened to the news disagreeably, but not one of them challenged him, save for Jingyi and Sizhui.
Even through the worry sinking its claws into his heart, he allowed himself a small amount of pride in the two. They were shaping up to be truly noble cultivators.
“Allow us to accompany you,” Sizhui suggested, and the rest followed suit; they followed their head disciple religiously. Though the sight was heartwarming, he shook his head. The disciples would only get in the way.
“I cannot honor that request.”
Jingyi’s face darkened with worry, while Sizhui hid his concern far better. Lan Wangji couldn’t help but acquiesce. “Sizhui and Jingyi will come with me.”
“The rest of you, go back to your meal.”
~
On their swords, it was a quick trip to Yunmeng- especially at the pace they were going. Lan Wangji would never travel at such a pace with the regular disciples, and was even a little wary concerning Jingyi; he couldn’t bring himself to slow down however, when it was Wei Ying in jeopardy.
If Jiang Wanyin had indeed captured Wei Ying, he would take him back to Lotus Pier. Though Lan Wangji tried not to heed rumors, the message was clear what happened to demonic cultivators after they were taken there.
Bichen flew swiftly, and Lan Wangji willed himself to become as strong as the blade’s steel. If Jiang Wanyin realized that Mo Xuanyu was indeed Wei Ying, he was in for an upward battle. Lan Wangji knew himself and Jiang Wanyin to be incredibly stubborn, but Lan Wangji would not back down. He told himself this over and over again.
Flying over Yunmeng, a sort of melancholy washed over the cultivator. The fragrance of lotuses wafted through the territory, even reaching the skies where they flew, and the city of Yunping was full of life. He had only come to Yunmeng a few times as a member of the Lan for conferences, and many times to the edges of the land for night hunts. His regret was that he never came to Yunmeng as Wei Ying’s friend.
As he flew, he couldn’t help but begrudge his younger self, blinded by youthful ignorance and embarrassment. Now it was so ironic that he was finally heading to Lotus Pier to see Wei Ying only after around two decades of history between them.
The sky had been dark when the three cultivators left the inn near Mount Dafan, and the sky was finally brightening as they descended upon the gates of Lotus Pier.
The night guards were practically asleep as the Lans approached, and once they realized it was the renowned Hanguang-Jun asking to meet with their Clan leader, they scrambled to open the gate, waking with bright eyes and jumpy motions.
The Lotus Pier itself was a gorgeous wooden monolith set across sprawling lotus lakes sparkling with the light of the sun. Wei Ying’s ravings about the compound made sense; it truly was beautiful.
~
Lan Wangji walked slowly and surely into Lotus Pier’s grand hall as they were led by the head Jiang disciple. The young man’s face was set in an attempt to appear relaxed, but it was obvious he was on edge.
As they trailed through the compound, the cultivator tried to keep his eyes open for any hints as to where Wei Ying was, or what happened to him. The halls were cool and clean, the same scent of lotus adorning practically everything.
Sizhui and Jingyi followed behind, silent save for occasional comments from Jingyi.
As they rounded a corner, Lan Wangji finally caught the sight of Jiang Wanyin. Seated on his lotus throne, the clan leader did not look happy; not that he usually did- but there was a distinct fury present in his eyes that even Lan Wangji could tell was reserved for one person.
“Hanguang-Jun. What do I owe the honor? And at this hour, too.”
Jingyi’s face became as purple as his robes. “Jiang-Zongzhu, I don’t think you should complain about the time. Looking at the circles under your eyes, it doesn’t look like you were sleeping.”
Lan Wangji sighed. Such a thing was completely rude, even for Jingyi. The cultivator figured Jingyi was most likely more tired than he thought, and Lan Wangji couldn’t blame him too much.
“Lan Er-Gongzi,” Jiang Wanyin snapped, “control your disciples!”
Lan Wangji sent a glance towards Jingyi. “That was inappropriate,” he acquiesced, and Jingyi flushed.
“Pardon my disciple. We traveled all night to arrive at Lotus Pier.” Jiang Wanyin only grunted. He was already angry, and Lan Wangji was tired.
Face settling into a scowl, Jiang Wanyin demanded, “why are you here?”
Lan Wangji inhaled deeply, then settled his gaze on the furious clan leader. “I am interested as to what Jiang-Zongzhu did with the young cultivator we encountered on Dafan Mountain.”
Stormy eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The stray disciples in the throne room looked inherently uncomfortable, and Lan Wangji kept pushing.
“Jiang-Zongzhu. I know you took Mo Xuanyu back to Lotus Pier. You cannot punish him for merely practicing unorthodox cultivation,” he explained slowly.
“Unorthodox cultivation? You know as well as I do that he is a demonic cultivator!” Jiang Wanyin’s voice boomed, and he stood up from his throne. “Why are you so interested in that nobody,” he demanded.
Lan Wangji shook his head. “I can take him back to the Cloud Recesses. Jin-Gongzi explained that Mo Xuanyu has a troubled past. We can help him.”
Jiang Wanyin practically spat at the cultivator in white. “When have you Lans made anything better?!”
Lan Jingyi and Sizhui looked furious when Wangji glanced back at the two, and he felt some of his own rage fill his veins.
“Jiang Wanyin,” Lan Wangji said deliberately, “whatever will happen at the Cloud Recesses is most definitely preferable to what you want to do with him.”
At his words, Jiang Wanyin looked away. He almost looked… guilty.
“Fine,” the clan leader in purple snapped. “Have at him. But I can’t promise he’ll ever walk again.”
Jiang Wanyin stormed out of the throne room before Lan Wangji could respond.
Horror flooded his heart as the Jiang disciple lead him to Wei Ying.
~
When he hovered his hand over Wei Ying’s ravaged back, his palm was met with a warmth that could rival a hearth.
His hand shook, and his heart clenched tightly.
Wei Ying, how could this have happened? His first concern was his beloved. He was in a stable condition, laying in a clean bed in a Yunping inn, but his back still wept a torrent of crimson tears. He had ordered Jingyi and Sizhui to fetch prescriptions from an apothecary, but medicine could only do so much.
Laying his hand on the younger’s wrist, he funneled spiritual energy through damaged meridians. In his mind he knew it would help, but Wei Ying lying motionless, simultaneously wearing death’s pallor and the red tinge of fever horrified him. He had seen this before.
He cursed the world outside, the happy cheers of parents and their children, merchants selling their wares; they were all without a care in the world.
The way the world had been back then. As if Wei Ying’s life was nothing.
This was something Lan Wangji knew all too well. The crack of the whip was nothing new to Wei Ying, he knew, but such a violent beating was something Lan Wangji wished the younger would never know.
Lan Wangji himself, one of his generation’s greatest cultivators, was lain low for three years after his punishment. He didn’t want to think what this would do to someone with a body as weak as Wei Ying’s.
He was angry. Angry at Jiang Wanyin for hurting him once again, angry at the world for not caring about his beloved, angry at himself for being unable to protect Wei Ying once more; but even more so, he was scared.
He was scared that after so long of being without that precious smile, it’d be taken away again without mercy. Lan Wangji, for all his peerless strength and skill, felt completely powerless. He felt like that weak child freezing outside his mother’s cottage, not understanding anything.
~
A hand weakly grasping at the sleeve of his robe brought him out of his daze.
How long has it been? Lan Wangji was never one to drift off- he always carefully examined his thoughts during mindful meditation- but the orange glare of the setting sun peaking through the window did not lie. Sitting by Wei Ying’s bedside, his back and shoulders were stiff from his improper posture; he didn’t notice that either. He could have smiled- Wei Ying always did this to him.
He laid out Wei Ying on his stomach so as to not irritate the wounds on his back, so the younger had to crane his neck unnaturally to look up at him.
Lan Wangji immediately turned away from the window and towards Wei Ying. The grey eyes opened gradually, taking in his form languidly. Lan Wangji had always been soft to Wei Ying’s gaze; it was Wei Ying who seemed to be able to know him, to truly understand him, even when there was such a nest of misunderstandings between them.
“Lan- Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying’s voice was strained and airy- he obviously needed water, and Lan Wangji’s eyes darted around the room to see where he could retrieve some.
Wei Ying’s hand tapping lightly on his thigh brought his vision back down to his beloved.
“Do not move your arm,” Lan Wangji chastened before he could stop himself. The violent red wounds on his arms would strain with such a movement, and the older cringed to think of what it would feel like. What he knew it felt like.
Wei Ying laughed lightly, tone gruff from his chest being compressed. “Hanguang-Jun, why are you taking care of this lowly one- surely…” Lan Wangji did not know whether or not the injured man was still attempting to keep up with his Mo Xuanyu facade. It didn’t matter.
“Wei Ying,” he started, trying to keep the emotion banging at his ribs down. He tried to tell himself that intense emotion would only weaken Wei Ying further. His beloved needed him to be strong.
At the call of his name, the younger flinched. Lan Wangji sighed. He almost felt failed at the response, but he knew the younger couldn’t help it. It was his duty to comfort Wei Ying, and he’d do it right.
He had to.
“I want to help you.” The statement was simple, but he meant it. He only hoped that Wei Ying would understand the emotions he wished to convey.
There was a small inhale, stifled slightly. Wei Ying’s grip grew tighter, and those beautiful grey eyes became filled with crystalline tears. Lan Wangji never wanted to see Wei Ying cry from anything other than joy- he prayed that it was at least not his wounds making his eyes water.
Lan Wangji wanted Wei Ying to know that he was there for him. Even when he had failed in the past, he would make it right now.
Lan Wangji was never one for touch, but when he grasped Wei Ying’s cold hand with his own, he felt relief so cathartic his heart finally calmed from its mad sprint. To his immense satisfaction, Wei Ying’s hand squeezed back faithfully.
Tipping his head up slightly Wei Ying met the other’s gaze shakily. “Why?” It was not so much a question as a statement. Wei Ying’s hand grew tighter, and eyes even glossier with wetness.
“I always want to help you, Wei Ying. Even if it’s something small, I will always do my best to see you safe and happy,” he answered honestly. It was a bit intense, but he could reply in no other way. It was the truth.
Mouth agape, Wei Ying only looked up in shock, before schooling in his emotions. The older man let Wei Ying take it all in; it was a lot. Lan Wangji was all too aware of what Wei Ying thought of them in their past.
Getting up from his perch beside Wei Ying, Lan Wangji went to look for some water.
With his back to his wounded beloved, Lan Wangji allowed a few tears of his own to slip out. They were tears of relief, tears of joy, tears of passion- Wei Ying was okay! Wei Ying was with him! Fetching a pot of tea with haste, he returned to the bed.
Placing the tea on a table that also held Wei Ying’s medicine, Lan Wangji realized an issue: Wei Ying would probably need to sit up to comfortably drink.
“Wei Ying, can I help you sit up?”
Wei Ying, stationary for once in his life, looked up at him rapidly with excitement. “Please,” he groaned almost musically. A small smile graced his lips- an attempt to lighten the mood.
Carefully, Lan Wangji changed Wei Ying’s position, with Wei Ying’s ‘help’. His ears picking up grunts of discomfort and whines of pain, Wei Ying only laughed off such issues and tried pushing himself up far too fast.
True tears of pain welling in the corners of his eyes, Wei Ying smiled brilliantly at him, seated upright, though spine curved quite dramatically and most definitely uncomfortably.
“Now you see, Hanguang-Jun, it’s not that hard to get me into bed,” he chuckled conspiratorially. Lan Wangji allowed the corners of his lips to rise, and he brought the teacup up to Wei Ying’s dry lips.
Wei Ying was weak, but it seemed he could still joke around. The cultivator shook his head with no lack of affection.
“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying started, his voice not so hoarse anymore, “thank you.”
Gathering the disheveled locks of Wei Ying’s hair, he pulled them over the man’s shoulder so the strands would not stick in the wounds.
“No need,” Lan Wangji replied. He made sure to leave no room for argument once he saw Wei Ying’s pout.
“Between us, there is no need for ‘thank you,’ or, ‘I’m sorry.’”
Wei Ying’s face lit up, but with a softer, more reserved smile. It was not a smile formed in the heat of the moment, nor one of Wei Ying’s carefully crafted masks. It was true, and for that, Lan Wangji was thankful.
“What am I going to do with you, Lan Zhan?”
“Anything,” Lan Wangji replied.
When Wei Ying flushed red so sweetly, Lan Wangji felt his heart light up with warmth. He loved the man before him so much, and as he looked into those shocked eyes, that love only grew like a lotus, blooming even in muddy water.
Lan Wangji smiled at Wei Ying, and watched his blush deepen. He put their hands together, and held fast;
He would never leave Wei Ying again.