Chapter Text
The Jins arrived first. Jin Guangyao was with them, while Jin Zixun was absent, which boded well; Jin Zixuan wouldn’t make eye contact with Lan Wangji, which boded ill.
Jin Guangshan and Lan Xichen went through the motions of greeting each other politely and respectfully. Lan Wangji, as the first disciple, was not expected to speak, which suited him perfectly. He had no polite or respectful words for Jin Guangshan.
Lan Wangji tried to catch Jin Zixuan’s eyes; tried to will him into looking up. Wei Ying wanted his sister to be happy, a noble desire; to be happy, she needed Jin Zixuan’s affections, at least for the moment. He was aware that she was likely a resilient woman, capable of moving on, but he wanted Wei Ying to be happy sooner rather than later.
Jin Zixuan kept his eyes down throughout the exchange.
Jiang Yanli’s taste in men was not a subject that Lan Wangji had the authority to pass judgement on, and yet . . .
Jin Guangyao, at least, would meet his eye, though of course he was largely looking at A-Huan. It was not entirely his fault, what had happened, but Lan Wangji had never had a great tolerance for error, especially error that harmed innocents.
But Jin Guangyao had been necessary, to smooth things over with his horrible father. He had done his best, too, with Jin Zixuan, to convince him that his affections would still be returned; that he had not irreparably destroyed their relationship by reacting slowly and with confusion to a surprise.
Reminding him of past actions that Maiden Jiang had forgiven him for, though they had been objectively worse, had not yielded helpful results; that had been when Jin Guangyao had suggested that Lan Wangji concentrate on other matters, and had taken over on that front.
The Jins completed their various greetings, and everyone bowed to each other. Junior disciples led them off to the various rooms they had been assigned; there were too many of them to house in a single building.
Jin Guangyao stayed back. “I think the Jiangs are coming soon,” he said, “within the hour.”
“Thank you, A-Yao,” A-Huan said. “Are you well? And your brothers?”
There were other Lan disciples nearby; they were, of course, beholden to the rule against gossip. But Lan Wangji had insisted that those of them involved in the efforts kept it strictly confidential.
“I am well, thank you,” Jin Guangyao said. “My brothers are well. A-Yu has made great strides in his cultivation; I expect he will be visiting you all in a few years. A-Xuan is close to a breakthrough on the cultivation technique I mentioned to you; perhaps he would benefit from your eye to the problem.”
“I will come this evening, then, to take a look.” A-Huan’s expression when he looked at Jin Guangyao was so soft Lan Wangji wanted to look away, to give him privacy.
“I will come as well.” One of the juniors turned ever so slightly to glance at Lan Wangji out of the corner of her eye. Lan Wangli looked at her directly; she straightened her spine and turned back to look directly forward.
Jin Guangyao smiled at them both with what Lan Wangji was forced to assume was genuine pleasure. “Excellent! I will let him know. Until then, have a pleasant day.”
“The same to you,” A-Huan said. Lan Wangji inclined his head slightly.
A-Huan watched Jin Guangyao walk up towards the Recesses. Lan Wangji did not know they thought they were fooling; Nie Mingjue was even less capable of subtlety about the nature of their collective relationship than either of them. Lan Wangji granted that few other people were subjected to the three of them together in private, or worse, in private after two of the three had gotten drunk.
“The Jiangs are sending a fairly full contingent,” A-Huan said once Jin Guangyao was out of sight. His tone was conversational; Lan Wangji kept his eyes fixed to the path the Jiangs would be coming from.
“Madam Yu,” A-Huan continued. “And both her children, with six of their top disciples.”
Lan Wangji knew this meant that Wei Ying was coming, even if A-Huan took his time about elaborating. He never made Lan Wangji wait so long to hear bad news.
But still, he wanted the confirmation; and A-Huan was done talking until he acknowledged that, if he was judging the long silence correctly. “Mm.”
A-Huan’s voice was colored by his amusement. “Yes, I know you know their top disciple, Wei Wuxian, best, but I believe you’ve met all of the other five as well.”
“I remember,” Lan Wangji said.
A-Huan hummed, a contented sound, and Lan Wangji narrowed his eyes. It was fine for A-Huan to feel certain that their piecemeal plot to reunite Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli - or at least embarrass Jin Zixuan as badly as she had been embarrassed, with a public rejection - would work as planned. He had no personal stake in the matter; neither of the men he loved had their happiness in the balance.
Lan Wangji could feel himself growing tense. He focused on the feel of the soft chill autumn wind, the sound of water pouring over rocks, damp firmness of the rock he was standing on. Anything other than the fact that Wei Ying was returning to the Cloud Recesses - that he was entering into Lan Wangji’s home - but that he was not doing it under the circumstances for which Lan Wangji longed.
“Don’t look so grim,” A-Huan said, breaking a long stretch of silence. “We have more guests.”
Lan Wangji opened his eyes: the Jiangs were indeed coming up the path. Wei Ying was behind Madam Yu and her children, at the end of the loose line of disciples, but he was there. Subdued, not speaking to his companions, not laughing.
Lan Wangji had to peer around three other disciples to really see Wei Ying once they made it to the gate and Madam Yu and A-Huan started in on their greetings. Lan Wangji did not crane, but he did shift his position. A little. To study Wei Ying more closely.
His eyes were shadowed. He looked tired. He did not bounce or joke or pull faces or even fidget with the edges of his sleeves. Hysteria rose in Lan Wangji’s throat, almost a panic.
He forced it down; forced it away. Wei Ying would be happy again. Wei Ying would probably be happy again by the end of the discussion conference, once Jin Zixuan was convinced that the steps they proposed were necessary.
Too soon Madam Yu and A-Huan were bowing again and she was sweeping her way up towards the Cloud Recesses proper, taking all the Yunmeng Jiang disciples with her.
Wei Ying, already last in line, lingered. “Lan Wangji,” he said, not looking at him directly.
“Lan Zhan,” he answered. He did not want Wei Ying to retreat into formality with him; to hold him at arm’s length.
That got Wei Ying’s attention - his head snapped up. “I wanted to make up for the way that I conducted myself last time we spoke. This one offers his most humble apologies.” He bowed low.
Lan Wangji caught him by the elbow and pulled him out of the bow. “No need.” He did not want to be apologized to; he loved Wei Ying, so he loved Wei Ying’s moods.
Wei Ying let himself be pulled. There was a crease between his eyebrows - Lan Wangji wanted to smooth it. His mouth was parted in his confusion - Lan Wangji wanted -
“Then I will say thank you,” Wei Ying said, the sound of his voice pulling Lan Wangji back to himself; back to protriety. “Thank you for keeping me from making a grave mistake.”
He tried to bow again, but Lan Wangji was still holding his elbow. “No need,” he repeated. There was no need; he did not need thanks. He only needed to see Wei Ying happy.
Wei Ying pouted, which was at least a familiar expression. “Ah, Lan Z- Wangji, you’re too good. Let me apologize or thank you! I know you did what you did out of - of obligation, but I am still in your debt.”
He did not want Wei Ying to feel beholden; Lan Wangji could see he already felt beholden to the Jiangs and he did not want to add to that burden. “No debt, between us,” he said. He could not help himself. Adding the second phrase was shameless, obvious; but that was Wei Ying’s influence, so he could not bring himself to resent it entirely.
Wei Ying was looking directly at him. Lan Wangji did not fully understand what the look in his eyes meant but he could see that there was sadness there. He could not help adding, “And to Wei Ying, I am Lan Zhan.”
That got a small smile - just a tiny fraction of the normal beaming grin, but better than nothing. “If you say so, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said. “I’ll - I’ll take my leave, now.”
Lan Wangji wanted to tell him not to; to ask him to stand by his side for the rest of the afternoon - for forever - but that could hardly be what Wei Ying wanted. So he nodded slightly, to acknowledge Wei Ying’s desires.
Wei Ying did leave, but looked back several times, turning around very quickly each time once he noticed that Lan Wangji was still watching. It was not that Lan Wangji wanted to make Wei Ying uncomfortable. He simply could not look away, when he had so few chances to see the one he loved.
Once Lan Zhan was out of sight, Wei Wuxian did his best to catch up to the rest of the Yunmeng group. He hadn’t wanted to come to the conference. He hadn’t known how he could look at Lan Zhan ever again! But both shijie and A-Cheng had insisted, though, and after speaking with Lan Zhan, Wei Wuxian was almost glad.
Just seeing Lan Zhan, pristine, perfect, glowing in the weak autumn sunlight, had made something in Wei Wuxian shiver with - with -
Emotion.
Fine, Wei Wuxian would admit that he wasn’t always the best at figuring out what he was feeling. That was fine. He had other talents, like cultivation, and annoying A-Cheng.
Ah. Wei Wuxian realized that thinking about how annoying he was hurt, actually.
Fortunately he had caught up with everyone else by then, just in time to be ushered by one of the endless little junior disciples (they must make them in molds: they all had the same perfect posture, the same placid expressionless neutrality that made them look kind of related despite their variety of actual facial features, the same economy of movement) to the rooms set aside for Master Jiang Wanyin and Master Wei Wuxian.
Really, the fact that Wei Wuxian was getting respect in the Cloud Recesses - they were just too dignified.
“Don’t get kicked out this time,” A-Cheng said, breaking Wei Wuxian out of his thoughts with a pinched look on his face. “It’s one thing when we’re all children. But don’t do it now, when we’re adults who have been through war. Especially since this is the first time a-jie is appearing publicly since, well, you know.”
“I - I wouldn’t,” Wei Wuxian tried, not knowing how to explain.
A-Cheng looked tired. “I know.”
Wei Wuxian tried to think of a joke, but couldn’t.
“Come on,” A-Cheng said, turning away and straightening up, “let’s see where they’ve hidden jiejie.”
Wei Wuxian nodded and followed A-Cheng. He really was there only for his shijie, as moral support, not to think about -
After the wedding incident, Yanli’s health had worsened, and she had been confined to bed for a month. It had been a horrible time, with all four of them hovering in her rooms, getting in each others’ ways and trying to keep from snapping at each other. For once, not even Madam Yu could find a way to blame Wei Wuxian, but that wasn’t any comfort.
The slow recovery period was better. Yanli had been stronger, happier, able to sit in the sun. Outside news trickled in slowly, though at first they had tried to keep it from her - Jin Zixun had admitted that he, personally, had seen nothing, not even the letter, and had named Su She as his source; Jin Zixuan admitted publicly that several people had helped him compose a letter, and that Su She had likely overheard and misinterpreted a conversation about that. Even Su She had admitted his part in the whole incident, though no one who wrote to Lotus Pier seemed to know exactly why.
So as far as the cultivation world was concerned, Maiden Jiang’s loyalty and virtue had been defended. But no word came from Koi Tower about a new wedding date. As she grew stronger, Yanli had asked often enough, but there was nothing to tell her - all A-Cheng and Wei Wuxian knew for sure was that the topic of the dowry and the bridewealth had not yet been broached.
Madam Yu would occasionally get letters from Madam Jin, which always left her furious, but she was tightlipped about their contents. Even with Uncle Jiang, as far as Wei Wuxian could tell, though he had mostly been trying to stay out of her way.
And now Yanli insisted she was fine - happy, even - and that they could proceed like the engagement and almost-wedding had never happened.
Wei Wuxian bumped into A-Cheng’s back. They were in the visiting women’s section, which Wei Wuxian had never had the opportunity to see - but it was fairly tame, basically the same as the area where he and A-Cheng were staying. Mianmian and Wen Qing were standing very close to each other at the other end of the courtyard, talking quietly and shooting them glances.
Wei Wuxian fought back an urge to stick his tongue out at Wen Qing. “So, you led us this far,” he said, slapping A-Cheng’s shoulder, “what’s the hold-up on finding shijie’s room?”
A-Cheng shook himself. “Right,” he said, walking with purpose towards one door in particular. How A-Cheng found information like rooming assignments so quickly in the gossip-free Cloud Recesses was beyond Wei Wuxian.
Once they were at the door, A-Cheng paused before knocking. “It was just,” he said, in an actual whisper, “that the Jins are already here . . . “ He was pointing to Mianmian, as subtly as he could, with an elbow.
“We knew they would be,” Wei Wuxian said, putting a hand on A-Cheng’s shoulder - gently, for once.
A-Cheng didn’t shake it off, either, just knocked on the door. “A-jie, we’re here to see how you’re settling in!”
And there she was, smiling like nothing could possibly be wrong, waving them into her room - she wasn’t sharing with anyone, as far as Wei Wuxian could tell - and pouring them tea. “There’s no need for you boys to hover,” she said. “I’m fine.”
Wei Wuxian wanted to believe her.
Three days.
Jiang Cheng was working on being patient. On watching events unfold without shouting about them. On being responsible, restrained. All traits he knew he’d need to be a successful sect leader - a good sect leader.
But watching both of his siblings suffer? For three days? When Jiang Cheng was pretty sure that, hey, actually, Jin Zixuan still wanted to marry a-jie, and that shige was ignoring literally every implication of Lan Wangji’s behavior for no reason?
That was the limit of Jiang Cheng’s patience.
He had watched them both sigh away for three consecutive evenings, had watched the soft, heartbroken way a-jie looked at Jin Zixuan when she thought no one could see, had watched Wei Wuxian frantically switch between hovering over Yanli (in full mother hen mode) and swooning idiotically whenever he caught a glimpse of Lan Wangji.
The discussion conference was almost over, and it was becoming clear that, since neither of his siblings had good taste, Jin Zixuan and Lan Wangji weren’t going to do shit about fuck. Jiang Cheng had noticed the way that Jin Guangyao and Nie Huaisang hovered together, watching the same stupid drama play out, no doubt plotting away, but there was no way that everything had to be as complicated as their little schemes.
Seriously, it was like Jiang Cheng was the only one in their whole generation who could think his way out of a wet paper bag.
Finding out where the Jins, Nies, and Lans met to talk between sessions was easy enough: he just had to ask one of the Gusu Lan juniors who had taken a convenient liking to one of the other Yunmeng Jiang disciples. They hadn’t bothered to be too subtle about it, apparently, so all the Lan disciples knew about it.
So Jiang Cheng was standing in front of their door, Zidian in hand, contemplating his approach. He could be diplomatic; he could be reasonable at first; he could behave like a future sect leader speaking to respected peers . . .
The image of a-jie crying - in front of him and Wei Wuxian, which she always tried to avoid - came to the front of his mind.
Jiang Cheng threw the door open, stepped in with a little crack of Zidian, and slammed it shut behind him.
Around the table in front of him were both of the Nie brothers (Mingjue, already getting angry, Huaisang, looking contemplative and reaching out to hold his brother back, if necessary), Jin Zixuan (genuinely fearful but not getting up), Jin Guangyao (extremely polite smile - how did he do that?), and Lan Xichen (standing, already, with a hand on his sword, but still calm).
No sign of Lan Wangji but Jiang Cheng could deal with him later.
“You idiots! What do you think you’re all doing, playing with my siblings’ feelings like this? It’s an insult! An insult to them, and an insult to our sect! We are going to fix this, right now, right here. Your plots and plans,” he gestured at Nie Huaisang, “they’ve gone far enough. If my siblings’ chances at happy marriages are ruined, I’ll be forced to start another sect war.”
Jiang Cheng could feel himself tremble with fury, but at least his audience (his audience of buffoons, mostly, plus Nie Mingjue, who seemed to calm down once he realized what Jiang Cheng was there to discuss) seemed receptive. By receptive, he meant that Jin Zixuan looked more terrified than ever, and Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen had joined Nie Huaisang in the ‘contemplative’ camp. Good.
“Yes, Young Master Jiang,” Jin Guangyao said, getting up and bowing deeply. “We are honored by your forbearance.”
What an off-putting little man. Still, Jiang Cheng felt some of his fury leak away. “So, listen, Jin Zixuan,” he pointed, with the hand holding Zidian, “as far as I can tell, all you need to do is announce that you are still going to marry my sister, and then it’ll be fine. You can do it at the closing banquet tonight, in fact!”
Jin Zixuan gulped several times, face blanching. He was watching Zidian. “But - how could Y- Maiden Jiang ever accept me now?”
“What the fuck? Is that what’s holding you back? I can’t - you’re too stupid to live sometimes. One: my sister still loves you, for reasons literally beyond my comprehension. Do not ask me why. But you know as well as I do that I would never come here to try to make sure you ended up with my sister if it wasn’t what she wanted.”
A little of the color came back to Jin Zixuan’s face. “So -”
“TWO,” Jiang Cheng roared, since he wasn’t done yet, “if there’s anything in the world you deserve, it’s a public rejection! So man up and show some self-respect and fucking grovel at my sister’s feet for forgiveness.”
Jin Zixuan opened and closed his mouth a few times. Finally he managed to say, weakly, “Yes, you’re right.”
“Of course I am!”
Jiang Cheng let the moment hang for a little longer, everyone in the room still watching. Jin Guangyao had sat back down and was whispering furiously into Jin Zixuan’s ear, but that was fine, since it was pretty clear what was going to happen if Jin Zixuan didn’t follow through. Lan Xichen had also sat back down, listening attentively and even looking slightly amused.
It was to Lan Xichen that Jiang Cheng turned, picking back up before he could lose his nerve. “And you. You’re going to talk to Wei Wuxian.”
Lan Xichen hadn’t looked surprised to be the next target, but he did seem surprised at what Jiang Cheng was telling him to do. “You want me,” he said, “to talk to your brother?”
“Yes,” Jiang Cheng bit out. “You talk to him. Convince him that even though Lan Wangji apparently can’t use his words he is, you know, interested.”
Lan Xichen wasn’t smiling, and Jiang Cheng was doing his best to keep from being intimidated by the icy neutrality. “I don’t know what your understanding of the situation is, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s your Wei Wuxian who is playing with my little brother’s feelings.”
“Great! Tell Wei Wuxian that. Tell him why. I’ve been trying to tell him that this whole time, but he refuses to listen to a word I say. Partly because we’ve been taking care of your mess,” he said, snapping back to Jin Zixuan for another glare, “but also because he’s a stubborn ass when he wants to be. He won’t believe what he calls my wishful thinking.”
Lan Xichen cocked his head, studied Jiang Cheng’s face. Annoying. There was no reason for him to behave like this if what he was saying wasn’t true, or if his plan wouldn’t objectively work. There were benefits to a plan that was essentially three simple conversations, which made up for the fact that if it didn’t work, the whole shouting-and-threatening thing might have, uh, more than a few political repercussions for his sect.
But the plan was going to work. “If you talk to Wei Wuxian,” he said, seeing that Lan Xichen needed more of a push, “I’ll let them split their time between the Cloud Recesses and Lotus Pier, after they get married. That is, if they want to.” He wasn’t worried - no way would Xianxian choose to spend any significant amount of time in a place that wouldn’t even serve meat.
Nie Huaisang was hiding his face behind a fan, so Jiang Cheng couldn’t use him as a proxy to see how well he was doing with Lan Xichen, who was still eying him thoughtfully. He seemed to have relaxed a fraction, though, which Jiang Cheng chose to interpret as a good sign.
“I will speak to Wei Wuxian,” Lan Xichen said, slowly. “I can see how Lan Wangji is not . . . conventional in the way he expresses affection.”
“Good,” Jiang Cheng said. “And I’ll speak to Lan Wangji.”
Lan Xichen raised a single eyebrow at that but said nothing. He rose back up once again, gesturing for the rest of them to stay seated. “Lan Wangji will likely be in the library; you’ll be able to get some privacy through the use of silencing talismans.” Making eye contact with Jiang Cheng, he added, “I hope we both are successful. Lan Wangji can be stubborn about what he believes, for his part.”
Jiang Cheng sighed through his nose and, with a flick of his wrist, returned Zidian to ring form. Jin Zixuan let out a tiny sigh of relief. “I know all about dealing with stubborn people.”
Lan Xichen seemed amused. “I will take my leave, then.” Nodding to everyone, he strode out.
“Very impressive,” Nie Huaisang chirped. “Great monologues! Do you want a drink before you go talk to Lan Wangji?” He slipped a jar out from his sleeve and held it out. No one seemed surprised that he was so blatantly breaking the rules. Then again, Nie Huaisang had attended enough lecture seasons at the Cloud Recesses to know all the best ways to smuggle in wine and pornography.
“After the banquet,” Jiang Cheng promised. He would need the drink then, he was sure. There was no way they were going to make it through the whole meal without Wei Wuxian doing something embarrassing.
Nie Huaisang nodded knowingly. “I’ll come find you!”
“Mm,” Jiang Cheng nodded, already distracted. He had to work himself back up into the right mood, for his confrontation with Lan Wangji.
Wei Wuxian wasn’t sulking - he had strategically retreated. To the bunny zone. For strategic reasons.
Jiang Cheng had left him and shijie alone, running off in a huff (not unusual), and had refused to let him come along or tell him where he was going and why (very unusual). And then shijie had kicked him out of her room with more than half the afternoon to go before the banquet. She needed to get ready, of course, but that left Wei Wuxian completely alone.
He couldn’t even bother Lan Zhan, who didn’t seem to be angry with Wei Wuxian but also seemed to vanish completely between sessions. Sometimes he didn’t even go to the sessions, which was not what Wei Wuxian expected from him.
So different from the last discussion conference, at Lotus Pier, when Lan Zhan would meet his eye when Sect Leader Yao said something stupid and raise a single eyebrow just an infestimal amount. Or would allow Wei Wuxian to walk next to him when he went on walks between sessions, not responding much to his chatter but also not telling him to shut up.
Wei Wuxian felt a pang of guilt, for thinking so much about Lan Zhan when he should have been thinking about shijie. She did seem stronger, but she was still looking at Jin Zixuan with heartbreak in her eyes. Maybe A-Cheng had a point, and his feeling for Lan Zhan weren’t . . . purely brotherly - he certainly didn’t feel the same way towards A-Cheng himself - but he had no right to be focused on his own unrequited feelings, whatever they were, when shijie was so clearly still grieving.
Wei Wuxian picked up one of the rabbits and held it up to his face. “Maybe I am sulking, Mr. Rabbit,” he said. “But you won’t leave me, right?”
The rabbit twitched its nose at him.
“That’s what I thought,” Wei Wuxian said, placing the rabbit in his lap - gently! - and scratching it behind its ears.
Someone cleared their throat behind him. Wei Wuxian tipped his head back until he could see Lan Xichen watching him, looking mildly amused.
“Ah, Zewu-Jun, I was just admiring your rabbits,” Wei Wuxian said, pulling himself back into a normal sitting position. If Lan Xichen wanted to talk, he was going to have to be the one to move - Wei Wuxian had precious cargo that couldn’t be disturbed.
“I can see that.” Lan Xichen did indeed come around, to loom over Wei Wuxian. He cast a long shadow over him and his rabbits in the late afternoon sunlight. It was hard to look directly at him, because he was backlit - that’s why Wei Wuxian was avoiding eye contact. Obviously.
“Did you come to pet your little friends? I find them very peaceful to sit with, almost like mediation. So sweet and well-behaved, like proper little Gusu Lan junior disciples . . . do you ever imagine them carrying tiny swords and wearing tiny headbands? Because I -”
“I think we should talk about my brother,” Lan Xichen cut him off.
Wei Wuxian stared down at the rabbit in his lap, stroked its velvety ears. “Ahaha, yes, your brother has been most kind to this humble one.”
“He has.” Lan Xichen’s voice was as sharp as Wei Wuxian had ever heard in peacetime, and he couldn’t help but look up. Lan Xichen’s face was severe - the kind of expression that he was more used to on Lan Zhan. Who ever said that Lan Zhan was the scary one? “Do you ever wonder why?”
“I know he is forgiving of my, um, many flaws and has overlooked them to save face for the Yunmeng Jiangs in this difficult time, as a sign of respect and friendship between our sects.” Wei Wuxian addressed his words to the rabbit.
“Is that all you think he’s done?” Lan Xichen’s voice was several degrees colder.
Wei Wuxian tried to remember everything that Lan Zhan had ever done for him - it was a lot; it was so much - but he couldn’t think of anything specific that had happened recently enough for Lan Xichen to start treating him like this now, all of a sudden. “No,” Wei Wuxian said, slowly, trying to buy time. “I know Lan Zhan has - has tolerated me for many years . . . “
Wei Wuxian risked a glance up and Lan Xichen was studying him, head tilted and eyes inquisitive. “So you are not aware of his involvement in clearing your sister’s reputation?”
Wei Wuxian felt his eyebrows leap. “What? Uh, no, I mean, I knew he stopped Jin Zixun from heckling us as we, uh, left Koi Tower, but-”
Lan Xichen interrupted again, probably breaking some kind of record. “It was he who interrogated Jin Zixun; who got him to admit the intricacies of why he had accused Maiden Jiang; who interrogated Su She in turn, and got him to admit the part he had played.”
Wei Wuxian gaped. “I had - no one told us that! How could I have known? Oh, Lan Zhan has done such a service for our sect, for my sister. We are even more in his debt than -”
“And,” Lan Xichen continued, “he has been trying to get Jin Zixuan to work up the nerve to ask Maiden Jiang whether she will still marry him, even though he did not defend her in the crucial moment. I’ll admit, he has had less success on that front, but several of us have - well. The point is, he has done everything in his power to resolve the situation so that your sister can get what she wants.”
Wei Wuxian, for once, was not sure what to say. Lan Zhan was too good. To involve himself in inter-sect politics, when everyone knew he did not care for them, for the sake of Yanli, who he hardly knew at all - what selflessness! What righteousness!
Something in Wei Wuxian’s heart clenched. To know that someone of that caliber allowed Wei Wuxian, of all people, to associate with him, to even call him by his personal name - it was a gift.
Maybe he was a tiny bit in love.
“That is not all,” Lan Xichen continued, relentless. “I asked him what he would have done, if you had killed Jin Zixun. He said he would have taken you here, would have hidden you away, if that were necessary to keep the Jins from killing you.”
Wei Wuxian was having trouble hearing the words Lan Xichen was saying over the buzzing in his ears. Was this what it was like, right before fainting? It was hard to think; hard to breathe. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about what would have happened, if he had been successful, but he had never, even in his wildest flights of fancy, ever imagined something as absurd as Hanguang-Jun turning his back on the cultivation world to protecting him.
“What?” he managed to croak out.
“What do you know about our parents?” Lan Xichen asked.
Wei Wuxian’s head was spinning. “N-nothing.” That was the truth, essentially. He couldn’t remember any details about them at that moment, that was for sure.
“For my father, it was love at first sight. My mother - it took him some time to win her over. But before he could woo her completely, she killed my father’s mentor.”
Wei Wuxian jerked his head back up to look at Lan Xichen again.
“To protect her, my father married her, in defiance of the elders. He took her to the Cloud Recesses, and hid her away from the consequences of her actions. He,” Lan Xichen finally broke eye contact, gaze going distant, “put himself into seclusion, too, to punish himself. So when my little brother tells me he would have taken you to the Cloud Recesses, to hide you from the world, it means something to the both of us. Something specific.”
Wei Wuxian opened his mouth; closed it. Opened it again, but said nothing. Lan Zhan would have taken him to the Cloud Recesses for protection. Lan Zhan’s father had done the same for his mother, who he had fallen in love with at first sight. Lan Zhan had told his brother what he would have done, and Lan Xichen was implying that - that -
“You have hurt him,” Lan Xichen said, steel in his voice, “by ignoring his devotion, by taking it for granted; by flirting with him and not appearing to mean it; by acknowledging his love only when you could use it to benefit yourself and your family. And yet he loves you still.”
“I - I - I didn’t know!” Wei Wuxian cried. A weak defense but true. “I thought - he is so upstanding, so noble, I thought he just couldn’t stand to see injustice done to an innocent woman! I thought he was just tolerating me all this time, that I annoyed him but he let me talk to him to - to be polite, or something.”
Some of the ice melted from Lan Xichen’s eyes. “Many virtues come naturally to my brother,” he said, “but politeness has never been one of them.”
“He loves me,” Wei Wuxian said, in a quiet voice. It didn’t seem like such a thing could possibly be true, even after hearing what Lan Xichen had said, but just saying the words to himself made his heart beat wildly.
“Your brother told me that you did not believe Lan Wangji loved you,” Lan Xichen said, “and that was why you hurt him by ignoring his love, not even giving him the dignity of a true rejection. I can see now that your brother was correct. I will be able to forgive you, then, for your past actions.”
Putting aside the fact that Jiang Cheng was apparently talking about his romantic feelings with Lan Xichen of all people, Wei Wuxian felt joy expand in his chest, like sunlight breaking through clouds.
Lan Zhan! Loved him! He was loved by Lan Zhan!
He knew, suddenly but with complete certainty, that he loved Lan Zhan back, not just a tiny amount but deeply and fully. He loved Lan Zhan with his whole body, his whole mind, his whole soul.
Thinking about love, a stone dropped in his stomach - how could he be happy when shijie was still pining away? It wouldn’t do for the younger sibling to find love before his elder.
Lan Xichen must have noticed something in his face change. “Just as Jiang Wanyin had me speak to you, so that you may have your heart’s desire, so too is he working to ensure Jin Zixuan speaks to Maiden Jiang.”
Wei Wuxian had no idea that A-Cheng had it in him. “Really? Do you think it’ll work?”
“I have every reason to believe that Jin Zixuan still intends to marry your sister, assuming that she’ll accept him. It may not be today, but he’ll announce it at some point. Probably soon.” Lan Xichen glanced back at the position of the sun - dipping below the jagged mountainous horizon - and added, “Come, we should go. The banquet should have started already. It took me a while to find you.”
Wei Wuxian sprung up, the rabbit in his lap leaping for safety. “Do you think it would help if I showed Jin Zixuan how it’s done?” Hearing Lan Xichen say that his shijie would get her happy ending too added hope to the fire of love and joy burning away in him. He felt like his body would explode; too many positive emotions, all at once.
Lan Xichen quirked his lips. “I don’t think it could hurt. I’ll let you enter the hall first, then.”
A-Huan was late to the banquet. The final banquet. He was late.
Lan Wangji did his best to remain calm. Uncle had taken over, transition no doubt seamless to outsiders, once it became clear that Sect Leader Lan was not making an appearance any time soon.
Lan Wangji had not been with the others that afternoon - he was fed up with Jin Zixuan’s meek, cowardly attitude, and knew that his frustration would not help the others allay the man’s anxiety. So he had stayed in the library, reading the most complex cultivation texts he knew of, in an attempt to distract himself. Jiang Wanyin had interrupted, for some reason, to drag him off to an empty lecture room and yell at him.
Something about not being good enough for Wei Ying, something about getting his head out of his ass - it was all very confusing, unclear to Lan Wangji what, exactly, Jiang Wanyin was trying to tell him. Breaking all of Lan Wangji’s bones had come up several times.
So he had not seen A-Huan at all before the banquet, and did not have any idea where he was. It was making him edgy.
It did not help that Wei Ying was also not in attendance as the first course was served. That absence was much less surprising, of course, but it still hurt Lan Wangji’s heart. Who knew how long it would be before he saw Wei Ying again? There was no guarantee that he would be able to see Wei Ying before the Yunmeng group left the following morning, no guarantee that he would go to the next discussion conference, whenever that happened . . .
Lan Wangji wished his brother were there. A-Huan would know that he was catastrophizing; would keep him from his despair with a look. Instead Lan Wangji had to comfort himself with the bitterness of the soup course, which at least pulled him from his thoughts.
The rules against speaking during the meal had been relaxed, out of deference for the other sects, so there was a low murmur of conversation, but Lan Wangji did not need to participate. It was a small mercy.
The door slammed open, the conversations died, and Lan Wangji looked up from his soup.
Wei Ying stood in the doorway, hair wild, robes askew, breathing heavily. Lan Wangji was in love with him.
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying was advancing towards the head table, heedless of the heads turning towards him. “Lan Wangji! Hanguang-Jun! I love you!”
Lan Wangji stood up, knocking his seat over, and stared at Wei Ying. How could it be, that Wei Ying was announcing his love for him? It was like a scene out of his most precious dreams. Everything felt unreal; even the lingering aftertaste of the soup was transformed into the sweetest honey.
“I like you! I fancy you! I want to be your cultivation partner!” Wei Ying made it up to the head table and circled around it so that he could get next to Lan Wangji. This close, Lan Wangji could see individual strands of hair, could see each eyelash. All equally beloved.
Lan Wangji was aware of an uproar - could hear voices other than Wei Ying’s - but he paid it all no mind. “Wei Ying,” he managed, reaching out for him but pulling back. Could Wei Ying truly mean it? Had something changed, so that Wei Ying could accept boring Lan Wangji?
Wei Ying reached out and, not feeling any of Lan Wangji’s own hesitance, grabbed Lan Wangji’s hand and wove their fingers together. “I want to love you every day for the rest of our lives!”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said.
Tentatively, leaving him plenty of time to duck back, to announce he was joking, Lan Wangji reached up and cupped Wei Ying’s face. Far from rejecting the touch, Wei Ying leaned into it, rubbed his face into Lan Wangji’s palm like a rabbit.
Lan Wangji’s heart was a drumbeat in his chest, pounding out so loudly that Wei Ying must have been able to hear it. “Love you,” he managed. “Like you, fancy you.”
Wei Ying beamed. “Oh, Lan Zhan,” he said, closing the last of the distance between them to pull Lan Wangji into an embrace. Chest to chest, Lan Wangji could feel that Wei Ying’s heart was beating just as fast as his own.
It seemed that even impossible dreams could come true. Lan Wangji wrapped his arms around Wei Ying, reciprocating the embrace, reveling the warmth of their bodies together.
Wei Ying leaned up and whispered into Lan Wangji’s ear, “Lan Zhan, ah, I love you so much. I couldn’t believe it when your brother said you loved me too. Forgive me?”
Lan Wangji tightened his grip. If only there were no heavy cloth, no thick layers between them . . . “Nothing to forgive,” he answered quietly.
“You’re too good to me,” Wei Ying whispered. Then he kissed the skin just below Lan Wangji’s ear, where his jaw met his neck.
Heat pulsed through Lan Wangji; his grip tightened further, so that he was holding Wei Ying flush against him. “Shameless,” he said, aware of how low his voice was dropping. “If Wei Ying continues, we will have to leave.”
Wei Ying pulled back a little so that he could smile up at Lan Wangji; Lan Wangji could feel himself start to smile back, and he did not fight it.
“Ah! Lan Zhan, warn me before you smile! It’s too beautiful! But we can’t leave yet,” Wei Ying said, raising his voice and turning a little to project his last sentence out to their audience, though he did not pull himself out of Lan Wangji’s arms, “since I know at least one other person here who has his own announcement to make.”
Lan Wangji tore his eyes away from Wei Ying for the first time, long enough to survey the crowd. There were various levels of shock on the assembled faces, though A-Huan, who must have shown up at some point after Wei Ying, and Jiang Wanyin looked smug, Jiang Yanli and Nie Huaisang looked delighted, and Jin Zixuan looked petrified. Uncle looked furious but Lan Wangji couldn’t find it in himself to care.
Jin Zixuan stood up, gestured for his father to keep silent when he opened his mouth. “I, too, must declare something.”
Lan Wangji watched Wei Ying’s face. If Jin Zixuan had come to his senses, Lan Wangji wanted to watch the fruits of his labor.
“I still wish to marry Jiang Yanli,” Jin Zixuan said, voice ringing out into the silence, “if she would still have me. If you no longer wish to marry me, after my failure to defend your honor, I understand and -”
“Yanli accepts,” she said, cutting him off. “I will marry you.”
Wei Ying was smiling, so broadly that tears were gathering in the corners of his eyes. Lan Wangji reached up and wiped them away, as gently as he knew how. It was a marvel, to be allowed to touch Wei Ying, to be allowed to hold him, to feel the heat of his body.
“I couldn’t be happier,” Wei Ying said, just for Lan Wangji to hear.
Lan Wangji couldn’t help himself; he nosed Wei Ying’s hair aside so that he could kiss the same soft skin, just below the earlobe, that Wei Ying had kissed on his neck. He watched with interest as the color rose on Wei Ying’s cheeks, as Wei Ying’s eyes widened, as his pupils dilated.
A short scan of the banquet hall revealed that everyone had been successfully distracted by this second declaration - there was a flurry of activity between the tables of the Jiangs and the Jins, and hardly anyone was looking up to the head table to watch Lan Wangji and Wei Ying and their embrace.
Uncle, of course, was still watching them, and could probably hear everything that they were saying to each other. His face was steadily turning a darker shade of red; his beard quivered with the effort of keeping his mouth shut.
No matter; Lan Wangji was too overjoyed to worry.
“Come to the jingshi,” he said.
Wei Ying looked up at him through his eyelashes, smiling coyly. “So forward, Lan Zhan. Shouldn’t you propose marriage to me first?”
“I will,” Lan Wangji said. He was planning to, already thinking of how he would have to approach Jiang Fengmian; what he could offer as appropriate bridewealth - unless he was to be the ‘bride’? What he could bring as a dowry, in that case. “But if I propose now, they will not let us sneak away to spend the night together.”
Wei Ying squeaked. Lan Wangji smoothed a thumb over his hip to calm him. “And you call me shameless! Already after my virtue, Lan Zhan!”
Ah. In Lan Wangji’s joy he had forgotten to be respectful. “If Wei Ying would like to wait,” he started, already loosening his grip, in case Wei Ying wanted to pull free.
“No!” Wei Ying pressed himself back into Lan Wangji’s chest. He fit so perfectly in Lan Wangji’s arms. “You’re right, we should slip out while they’re distracted . . . let me just . . .”
He winked, then did actually pull free of the embrace; but he kept their hands clasped tight, so Lan Wangji was not worried. Wei Ying scanned the crowd, found who he was looking for - Lan Wangji followed his gaze to Jiang Wanyin, who looked back up at them with a combination of happiness and disgust - and made a complicated series of facial expressions.
Lan Wangji assumed they meant something along the lines of ‘don’t wait up, I won’t be back tonight, cover for me,’ so he waited patiently for Wei Ying to finish with them.
Finally, Wei Ying looked back up at him, smiled mischievously, and, using their clasped hands, pulled him out of the hall through a side door.
Lan Wangji couldn’t wait to follow him for the rest of his life.