Chapter Text
When Wei WuXian had asked if Wen QiongLin wouldn’t rather join his sister in the afterlife, he had been surprised to hear a no.
“Jiejie has already reincarnated. In one of her lives, she remembered me, so I got to properly say goodbye. I know which body her soul currently resides in, because of the soul searching array, but now she has a life I’m not part of. And that’s okay, because all I need is to know that she’s safe and happy.”
“Lan Zhan! Let’s go soul hunting!”
Said male turned away from his papers to look up at Wei WuXian. “Does Wei Ying wish to find someone’s reincarnation?”
“Yes!” Wei WuXian swung his arms around Lan WangJi’s neck, peering absently at his work. “Do you remember A’Yuan?”
Lan WangJi hummed. “Our son?”
Wei WuXian burst out laughing. He did remember that day in Yiling, when Wen Yuan had clung to Lan WangJi’s leg and cried for his father, later actually calling Lan WangJi “A’Die”. When Wei WuXian had scolded the boy for calling him “A’Niang”, he had simply called him “Baba” instead, which had later turned to “Xian-Gege” again.
“Yes, yes, my little radish! I want to find his soul, just to—to see how he’s doing.”
“SiZhui has yet to reincarnate. His latest life had been that of Miller Valentine, born and buried in Massachusetts, USA.”
Wei WuXian blinked. Lan WangJi already knew of Wen Yuan’s reincarnation, and by the sound of it, it wasn’t the only life he knew about. But wait— “SiZhui?”
Lan WangJi’s mouth opened slightly, as if he was surprised Wei WuXian didn’t know. Then his eyes lit up in understanding and he clasped his hand around one of Wei WuXian’s.
“After the Siege, I went to the Burial Mounds to search—for you. Hoped to find at least something. Brought a child back to Cloud Recess. Took care of him, gave him the family name Lan and courtesy name SiZhui. Perhaps it was mercy that a fever took his memories. He grew up loved and cherished and passed away in his sleep.”
Wei WuXian buried his face in the immortal’s shoulder. Lan WangJi had gone to search for him. Lan WangJi had found Wen Yuan, had adopted him, had—
Sobs surged through Wei WuXian, his whole body trembling as Lan WangJi continued to caress his hand. Wen Yuan—Lan SiZhui had lived, his radish had lived and undoubtedly turned out to be a great man.
“What—What was he like? I bet he had been a fine young master, of course, with Hanguang-Jun raising him, but-“
“Would Wei Ying like to see?”
Wei WuXian wiped some tears away. “How?”
“Incense burner,” Lan WangJi said.
Nodding, the grandmaster leaned his head against Lan WangJi’s. “Yeah, let’s—let’s do that. Just—I just need a minute. Or five.”
Wei WuXian ran, or rather, Lan WangJi ran in distress after A’Yuan, as Wei WuXian watched from his eyes. The little boy had hijacked Bichen and was now flying through the bamboo woods behind the jingshi. Luckily Zewu-Jun had caught A’Yuan before the sword impaled a boulder.
He watched as A’Yuan said that, despite the ceremony being in two days, he still hadn’t decided on a name for his sword and that just naming it whatever would be disrespectful. Wei WuXian felt pride and delight, alongside a pang of sadness, swell up in his chest and he had to remind himself that those were Lan WangJi’s feelings. Lan WangJi had found it funny that A’Yuan had mentioned naming his sword whatever. In the end A’Yuan had named his sword CaiHong.
A’Yuan—no, Lan SiZhui after his first nighthunt. Worry wasn’t even going to begin describing Lan WangJi’s feelings when had seen him being carried to the infirmary. Utter anguish at the fear of losing his son, his baby. SiZhui had been coddled back to health, much to the boy’s embarrassment.
Lan WangJi liked Lan JingYi and Wei WuXian liked him too. He had been Lan SiZhui’s first friend and the two of them had stayed together their whole lives. Lan WangJi was very sure even their reincarnations knew each other, if only briefly.
Fat tears rolled down Lan SiZhui’s face as Lan WangJi and Wen QiongLin told him stories of his Xian-Gege and the Dafan Wen. Now that Wei WuXian’s name had been cleansed after the events of Guanyin temple, Lan WangJi had the courage to reveal Lan SiZhui’s heritage. Just to him, at least.
Wei WuXian watched as Lan WangJi helped Lan SiZhui, now a 21 year old man, fasten the guan that had once belonged to Lan XiChen in his new hairdo. In his youth Lan SiZhui had always worn a ponytail. Now that he was the sect leader (his baby was the fucking GusuLan sect leader—), he wore his hair in a half top knot like his Fuqin and Bofu.
He watched Lan JingYi tell him of A’Yuan’s passing over night, grief manifesting in his bones. He did his best to continue Lan SiZhui’s hard work in guiding his granddaughter, Lan Bo, during her leadership. And her children. The next generation, too. And the next. And so on.
⬒ ⬓
Wei WuXian was tracing Lan WangJi’s tattoo once again. They simply lay there, on the couch of the jingshi, golden eyes watching rough fingers caress his arm.
The memory viewing had taken a lot out of Wei WuXian, not just physically, so he somehow had convinced Lan WangJi to lie down with him. And he had. And he had lain there, the whole time, until Wei WuXian had woken up from his nap.
Admitting it was difficult, because he had once thought of it as an unattainable dream, but he liked living with his Zhiji.
Loved it, even. The lack of their own vegetable garden was a disadvantage, but Wen QiongLin’s presence made up for that.
“Lan Zhan,” he called, not knowing why he was whispering.
“Mh?”
“I want a tattoo as well.”
“What kind?”
“I don’t know yet, but I want it over the surgery scar.”
Lan WangJi hummed. “Whatever.” he said, to which Wei WuXian laughed quietly. “Whatever? Lan Zhan, who knew you could be so rude!”
“Your sword, Suibian, as a tattoo.”
“Lan Zhan, that’s such a nice idea! Ha ha ha, you’re so clever, so perfect!” He whispered and kissed one of the rabbits in Lan WangJi’s tattoo.
Then he froze. He had just kissed Lan WangJi—well, his arm—but why had he kissed Lan WangJi? He knew Lan WangJi wouldn’t be disgusted by cut sleeve behavior, lots of the disciples were LGB-something (Wei WuXian was still new to this, he had no idea—), but Lan WangJi was his friend and didn’t even like being touched in the first place and Wei WuXian had just gone and—
Risking a glance up at the Lan, Wei WuXian nearly wheezed from surprise and relief. Lan WangJi’s expression was fond, his eyes filled with warmth.
“Ha ha ha, Lan Zhan, do you like getting kisses? You probably don’t get a lot, but that’s okay, I can-“
“I do.”
“Hah?”
“I do get kisses.”
Ah. Of course. Lan WangJi was the most handsome cultivator in existence and strong too, of course he had a wife (Wei WuXian tried not to think about the possibility of a husband because that would mean—) who gave him hugs and kisses and warmed his— “Rabbits give excellent kisses.”
Right, rabbits. The rabbits in the backfields. Because if Lan WangJi had a wife, where was she? Certainly not here. Who needed a wife anyway, when you had rabbits (and Wei WuXian).
“But I wouldn’t mind,” Lan WangJi continued. “If Wei Ying gave me kisses too.”
“Lan Zhan! Shameless!” Wei WuXian laughed, not even whispering anymore as his face heated up. Lan WangJi simply raised his eyebrows.
“Wei Ying was offering before I interrupted.”
He swallowed, his throat feeling drier than a few months ago, when he had woken up in the hospital. He could lie, laugh it off and pretend he had meant to say that he would help Lan WangJi find someone willing to kiss him. Or...
“Yes!—yes, if Lan Zhan wants to!”
“Want to. Very much.”
There was not much talking afterwards.
⬒ ⬓
Wei WuXian let out a yawn, tears prickling his eyes from the force of it, then he slumped back into the seat. Wen QiongLin chuckled. “We’re almost there, A’Xian.”
“That’s what you said five minutes ago,” he whined. “Just when are you two gonna stop giving me surprises?”
Lan WangJi reached back and took Wei WuXian’s hand in his. “Last one for this year,” he promised.
“Lan Zhan!”
The grandmaster squinted his eyes at the huge building. “National Museum Of Cultivation History,” he read out loud.
“Wei Ying asked how the doctor could have recognized him.”
Wei WuXian turned to look at Wen QiongLin, a big question mark on his face.
“Don’t worry, A’Xian. We have the whole museum for ourselves, for the next two hours.”
“Two hours just for us? Isn’t a museum public space?”
“Usually yes, but WangJi—“ Wen QiongLin gestured at said male, while leading Wei WuXian up the stairs. “—had booked the whole museum. That’s why we’re here so early!”
Wei WuXian was about to retort when they arrived in the main hall. He gasped instead. The whole hall was decked in glass vitrines containing cultivation related artifacts—scrolls, weapons, tokens; even small banners from minor sects. In the middle of the room was even a model of a golden core, which even seemed to glow like one. (Wei Ying would never forget the bright, warm light of his own, like the sun, cut out and leaving him cold and empty, so empty—)
Wei WuXian wasted no more seconds than needed and began to climb every vitrine and podest present, no cultivation item left unstared at by his grey eyes.
Swords, bows and arrows, spiritual animal armor, the fucking skull of Wen RuoHan himself—which was somehow less shocking to see than the arrays and talismans invented by demonic cultivators after Wei WuXian’s time.
Wei WuXian slumped onto the bench next to Wen QiongLin, while Lan WangJi returned from doing whatever he had been doing.
“The progress cultivation has made in 1000 years is amazing.”
“A’Xian,” Wen QiongLin chided jokingly. “We haven’t even gotten to the best part of today.”
“There’s more? I can’t! I’m so tired, my legs feel like that bouncy dessert Lan Lan has given me to eat once!” He complained.
Lan WangJi came back that moment and handed him a juice box. “Will carry Wei Ying, then.” He said.
“Aish!” He laughed, accepting the apple juice. “My Yeye is too good to me!”
Lan WangJi walked away at the distasteful nickname, earning a few chuckles from Wen QiongLin and whiny apologies from Wei WuXian. Soon however, the two started trailing after Lan WangJi, following him into the best part of this day.
Wei WuXian started in shock at the giant banner hanging before the side room.
The basic layout of the museum was like this; the register, the main hall and the side rooms dedicated to each great sect, which included the Lan, Nie, Jin, Jiang and even the eradicated Wen. But there had definitely never been a Yiling Wei sect, which is why that sect having its own side room made no sense at all. Wei WuXian would know, those were the characters of his family name printed onto the tablet at the entrance.
Slowly, step by step, he made his way inside, where Wen QiongLin and Lan WangJi were waiting for him in front of a human sized statue of himself—which was most likely made out of pure jade, what the fuck—
The wall behind the statue showed a huge painting that featured each Dafan Wen that had been under Wei WuXian’s protection, including the man himself.
The left wall was wholly dedicated to Wei WuXian, with ink drawings that he could recognize as the ones Nie HuaiSang had painted of him, even some of his own art was displayed next to his framed notes. Both Chenqing and Suibian hung there, as well as a replica of the Stygian Tiger Seal.
Two paintings of Lan SiZhui hung on the other wall, together with Wen Qing, Wen QiongLin and even a portrait of Lan WangJi. The first painting of SiZhui showed him in the attire of Lan-Zhongzhu, while the second one showed SiZhui in the white and red sun robes of his birth sect. It showed a young master of the Qishan Wen.
Wei WuXian slowly slid down the wall, lying down on the floor with his limbs sprawled around. He felt as if his head was going to burst and his eyes were a second away from melting out of their sockets from all the reading and crying he had done the past hour.
Lan WangJi squatted down next to his beloved, blocking his view of the ceiling. “Would you like to go home, Wei Ying?”
He simply nodded, unable to get out any words. Wei WuXian’s bones felt like pudding—funny how he remembered Lan Lan’s dessert name now—so he patted his thigh with his limp arm to tell Lan WangJi that he couldn’t move. Lan WangJi nodded.
“Will Carry Wei Ying.”