Chapter Text
“Did you hear? The head disciple of Yunmeng, Wei Wuxian, is dead!”
“What? How? Who killed him?”
“He did it himself! He took up his own sword and slit his own throat! His Shidi, Jiang Cheng, found him!”
Lan Wangji put down the loquat he had been examining, shock rippling through him. He had never met either of the young lords from Yunmeng, but he had heard that their head disciple was a joyful young man with his fair share of pride and arrogance. And as fourth place on the list of young cultivator gentleman of their generation, he would have been revered for those traits. It was unheard of for someone of their rank to commit such an act as suicide.
He quickly left the boatmen to their discussion and flew up the mountain. He had a lot to contemplate from this latest news. Maybe he could even ask his brother as to how such a thing could happen. How a young man with so much promise and his whole life ahead of him could have done such a thing. The whole affair left him feeling uneasy and strangely sorrowful.
As he stepped through the front entrance of his home he was greeted by a gaggle of his fellow junior disciples, gathered around each other, whispering.
“...arrived this morning. Maybe it has something to do with their head disciple. They say he slit his own throat! They also say…”
“Gossip is not permitted in the Cloud Recesses.”
“L-Lan-Gongzi!” The disciples jumped away from each other and stood at attention. No one wished to be caught breaking a rule in front of the one in charge of punishments.
But the righteous urge to punish wrongdoing didn’t fill him like it usually would. Thoughts of Wei Wuxian filled his head and drove him to distraction. He couldn’t think of a proper punishment so he dismissed his fellow disciples with a warning instead and made his way up towards the Hanshi, hoping to find his brother.
But Lan Xichen found him first, rushing up from his uncle’s office with an urgent expression on his face. “Wangji, thank goodness you’re here. There will be a delegation from Yunmeng Jiang coming tomorrow morning and we need to get ready. They’ll be needing rooms so we have to prepare the guest quarters and we must order more supplies from Caiyi. There’s been an incident with one of their young masters, so Sect Leader Jiang Fengmain is coming with his family to consult with Uncle.”
He had to ask, had to know. “What incident?”
Lan Xichen glanced around and motioned for Lan Wangji to follow him. They made their way to the Hanshi at a sedate pace, the tension of words yet to be said filling the air between them.
They sat down across from one another with a steaming pot of tea chilling between them. “We don’t know the whole story at this time and the messenger that arrived this morning was not forthcoming with the details. All he said was that one of their young masters was hurt and that he needs healing that only our sect could provide. Of course Uncle agreed and our healers will do everything in their power to help.”
“Brother, I heard the disciples talking…” he trailed off, unable to repeat the words said by others just this morning.
“Wangji, there is a reason that gossip is forbidden within these walls. Often the stories that are spread are false, and bring harm or shame to innocent parties. We will hear the full story tomorrow, when the parties involved can give their own accounts. I suggest you put these rumors out of your mind.” His words were ones of reproach but his voice was soft with understanding. He did not wish to scold his little brother, but to teach him.
He bowed his head in understanding, his shame leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He had broken the same rule that he had just scolded his fellow disciples for not ten minutes ago. He would have to spend some time on his knees later today in the courtyard to attone.
“Now little brother, will you help me direct the preparations for tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
===
The Yunmeng delegation arrived with little fanfare, only a half dozen or so disciples accompanying the Jiang family, a small party by anyone’s standards. (The Jin’s often travelled with three or four dozen servants and disciples at a time, choosing to show their power and wealth through sheer numbers.) It was only him, his brother, their uncle and the head healer there to greet them at the gates.
He had never before seen Yunmeng disciples so solemn and restrained. They walked with stiff shoulders and straight backs, their upright figures hiding the Jiang family from view, at least until Jiang Fengmian stepped forward. The man looked tired, like he had aged years in the span of just months.
“Teacher Lan, thank you for agreeing to meet with us. Is there a place for us to talk in private?” He glanced behind him for just a moment. “And maybe a room where my family can rest? It’s been a long journey.”
“Of course, Sect Leader Jiang, my nephews, Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji, can escort your disciples to their rooms while we meet in my office.” He gestured to his right and Jiang Fengmian bowed his head in gratitude.
He turned back to speak with his disciples and Lan Wangji could see the Jiang family for the first time. Madame Yu stood tall, as always, but she stood apart from her children, her face a stone mask and her eyes as hard as steel. Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli, both with dark circles under their eyes and a heavy sorrow weighing down their shoulders, stood on either side of their head disciple, Wei Wuxian, who looked worse than all the others of his party combined. He was hunched over like an old man, his long, black hair unbound and falling forward to curtain either side of his face. He seemed to be standing only under the assistance of his shidi and shijie, who were each clutching at one of his arms. He was clad in only the simplest of robes and his sword was nowhere to be found. Stark, white bandages were wrapped around his forearms and what could be seen of his chest and neck, merging with his pale skin, a color only found on the skin of the dead. But his face and eyes were what struck Lan Wangji the hardest.
Because there was nothing to observe.
No sorrow or anger or even pain. Certainly no happiness or contentment either. Behind those molten silver eyes was nothing . No feelings or spirit was left, just a vast sea of apathy.
Lan Wangji had only ever seen that look in one other person, his mother. The very last day they had had with her, he had looked back just before turning the bend in the path and had seen his mother’s face and it was that look . The very next day she had passed away. To see it once again and on the face of a boy his age and level of cultivation was almost devastating.
Everything clicked together in his mind.
All the awful rumors he had heard just the day before were true. Not only had Wei Wuxian tried to kill himself, but he had almost succeeded. The Yunmeng Jiang head disciple was not just hurt and in need of some assistance, he was near death, and at his own hand no less. A sick feeling churned within his gut and burned through his chest.
The purple clad disciples suddenly started shifting, hiding their charges from sight once more, and he realized that their groups were splitting up. Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan started to follow Uncle and Healer Tao to his office, leaving the rest of the delegation for Lan Xichen and him to lead.
His brother gave them a small but warm smile and bid them to follow. While they walked ahead, the others fell in line around the Jiang siblings like they were escorting royalty, surrounding them with peak protection in mind, covering every angle. It was a kind of formation you didn’t often see in groups of cultivators and it was unsettling. Who would attack them here?
There were only halfway there when a startled cry fell from Jiang Yanli’s lips. They all stopped and watched as Wei Wuxian collapsed, his limp figure slipping from their fingers and striking the boards of the walkway they stood upon. Everyone rushed forward at once, trying to assess the damage done.
“A-Ying!” Jiang Yanli cried, falling to her knees beside her brother and uncaring of the state of her dress, patting her delicate hands all over his head, feeling for some kind of trauma. Jiang Wanyin did the same, pulling his brother into a sitting position against his chest.
Lan Xichen knelt before them as well. “What happened?” he asked, his voice still soothing and gentle even in the face of such distress.
“I don’t know, he was walking with us and all of the sudden he collapsed!”
Lan Xichen reached out with hands glowing with spiritual power and felt over the meridians of Wei Wuxian’s body. Everyone held their breath while he worked.
“Everything seems fine and all of his pathways are open and in order. I think he must have passed out from exhaustion. We just need to get him to a place where he can rest.” He leaned forward to talk more closely with the two. “In fact, I think you’re all exhausted. I cannot imagine what you’ve gone through these past few weeks. And you must have flown for two days straight to reach here so quickly. You need your rest as well. Let us help you, please.”
His brother’s sincere words seemed to pierce straight through the two. Jiang Wanyin hid his tears in her brother’s shoulder, his whole body shuddering with pure emotion. Jiang Yanli let her tears flow freely, reaching out a trembling hand to clutch at Lan Xichen’s forearms, as words of gratitude fell from her mouth like a mantra.
“Your quarters are just a little ways up the mountain. Please let me take him and help guide you there.”
They agreed and his brother easily lifted Wei Wuxian up and into his arms, the other disciples helping the Jiang’s to stand. They started once more along the path and he couldn’t help but feel both happiness and sorrow. His brother truly was a kind and compassionate soul and the well of his love for him ran deep. The same kind of love that he could see in the eyes of the Jiang’s when they looked upon their own brother. His heart cried out for the three of them. He couldn’t even imagine...if his own brother had… His mind rejected the very idea.