Chapter Text
It was getting late, close to the traditional Gusu Lan bedtime which Wangji had always attempted to respect in his previous life. In the second, he may or may not have spent whole nights discussing spells, talismans, battle moves and evacuation plans with Wei Ying over the stone he had received as a gift. Well, either that, or the love of his life was sending the silliest straw figures while most likely cackling madly on the other end. They always made him fond of Wei Ying.
Right now, however, the reason for staying up late had very little to do with planning against future adversaries and all the more with appreciating the strangeness of being able- no, being allowed to hold Wei Ying in his arms. It was still a little difficult to believe but Wei Ying’s warm breath fanning his cheeks as the other laughed made Wangji melt a little on the iniside, complex thoughts moving to the back of his mind in favor of letting the simpler ones take charge – the ones urging him to kiss, to hold, to caress, to protect, to cherish.
“Careful- oof!”
That was Wei Ying’s head accidentally hitting a low hanging, unlit lantern in one of the small side streets at the edge of town.
“Apologies,” Wangji mumbled as he pulled Wei Ying closer and resumed kissing him. It was an experience just as exhilarating as it had been on the Phoenix Mountain, except this time there was no guilt lurking in the back of his mind, no confusion and self-hatred reminding him that it was just a moment stolen because Wei Ying was very much aware of what was happening now and kissed back just as eagerly, leaving Wangji breathless more often than not. The first time back then… that had been a result of his own pent-up frustration and Wei Ying’s surprise, but this time around there was no uncertainty. Wei Ying knew who was holding him, kissing him, stealing the breath from his lips.
“Lan Zhan…!”
“Hm.”
In the back of his mind, Wangji knew that his uncle was going to yell at him, knew that his many shidi were going to give him strange looks, knew that there would be consequences for this but… Wei Ying was his, willingly, eagerly his in a way he could only dream of before.
As they pulled apart to catch their breath a little, Wei Ying’s fingers were still caught up in his hair – not that Wangji minded the mess it turned into in the past who-knew-how-many minutes. It was made by Wei Ying, so it was fine. Those eyes looked at him with… dare he say adoration and it was almost too much to bear.
He couldn’t help but lean close again, this time planting a featherlight kiss on one of those blushing cheeks, then further up under Wei Ying’s eyes, on the Yunmeng disciple’s eyelid, on his eyebrows-
“Ha- haha, Lan Zhan, it tickles!”
It might just have for all Wangji knew.
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll tickle you too?”
Wei Ying’s words were equal part teasing and a challenge. A younger Wangji would have perhaps taken a step back rather than to risk diving headfirst into something embarrassing. The Wangji of now only hummed in contentment.
“Wei Ying can do whatever he wants.”
There was a surprised little gasp, those kissed-swollen lips curling into an O-shape, then Wei Ying broke out into a grin that would usually make kitchen staff both in Yunmeng and Lotus Pier break out in cold sweat. It was endearing.
“Mark your words, Lan Zhan…!”
As ready as he had been for whatever Wei Ying had in store for him, their precious time together was interrupted by a fight at a nearby inn. Somene was thrown out the door, quite literally, and a smaller group of men followed suit to continue what they had started inside the building.
“Let’s go,” Wangji said quietly and Wei Ying agreed, albeit not without complaining about bad timing.
It was a clear night with plenty of stars in the sky. Had it been like that the last time? Wangji wouldn’t know, he had spent it furiously glaring at the ceiling in his assigned room, thinking back at the sheer humiliation of having his forehead ribbon torn off in public. Back then, he couldn’t understand what the incredible pull he felt towards Wei Ying was, it took him several years to finally come to terms with what his heart desired and from then… From then, nothing had really changed for the better, sometimes because of his own lack of confidence that it could work, and sometimes because the world was just too cruel to let him stay with Wei Ying for too long.
Not this time. This time they walked the streets of this Qishan town together, with clothes and hair still a little rumpled and the echoes of a smile still lingering on both of their faces.
As if it had been a standard way for the inns over there, one of them had its door roughly shoved open and a figure fell out onto the street. Wangji could still see the hand hovering in the air that had pushed the man.
“Didn’t I tell you to bring more wine?! What do you mean the money wasn’t enough?! I gave you more than enough, you son of a bitch, if you stole some, then at least don’t lie to my face!”
It was an unsavory scene. Alcohol was forbidden in his home and Wangji could see the point of doing so if this was what it reduced some people to.
The figure who had just been forcefully pushed out to the street was probably the only sober one around. It seemed to be a young man at first glance, perhaps a servant of those on the inside based on how they ordered him around.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Wei Ying interrupted as three were about to come closer and hit the one on the ground. “People, it’s such a lovely night, why do you waste your time on arguing? I heard this inn has the best braised pork in the entire town, have you tried it yet? I bet the innkeeper would love to give you a taste of that!”
Those people were either intellectually inferior from the start or were simply too drunk to see the obvious attempt to shoo them out of the way but most of them actually seriously considered finding the innkeeper and demanding some pork immediately. Once they were all on the inside again, Wei Ying helped the person up from the ground – a person that Wangji suddenly recognized now that he saw that particular face.
“Are you all right,” Wei Ying asked while still supporting the man with one hand. The soon-to-be famous cultivator’s eyes flickered between him and Wangji for a moment before settling on Wei Ying.
“No need to bother with me,” he bowed politely, eyes downcast. “Thank you for your kindness, Wei-gongzi.”
“Oh, you know me?”
Wei Ying was famous in many circles but his reputation was not quite the same as in his previous life. For one, he hadn’t really managed to cause a scandal between Lanling Jin and Yunmeng Jiang by picking a fight with Jin Zixuan. And while he had caused Wangji’s uncles plenty of moments spent with alarmingly high blood pressure whenever he carelessly laid his back against Wangji’s own in the library, Gusu Lan was a place far more tight-lipped than most others. Wei Ying’s name was still clear, nothing like demonic cultivation or a feud with the Wens tied to it that could harm him in the future. Wangji was determined to keep it that way.
“Of course,” the man in plain robes said. “You’re the head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang.”
“Ah, well then, nice to meet you,” Wei Ying smiled at him breezily, being his usual easygoing self. A carefree Wei Ying that Wangji had once fallen in love with. A Wei Ying he had lost in more ways than one. A Wei Ying he got a second chance to meet, a miracle he would cherish for however long this second life of his lasted. “And you would be?”
“This one is called Meng Yao.”
And will be the hero of the war against Qishan Wen, Wangji added in his mind. The Jin Guangyao of the future, the man who killed Wen Ruohan. The one who hid Wangji’s brother from the world in harsh times. The one with whom they became sworn brothers.
“Well, Meng Yao, I saw a place still open, selling cheap alcohol – let’s face it, those guys in there probably can’t tell what they’re drinking anymore. Straight ahead, one corner to the left and then you’ll see a huge open door advertising wine, you can’t miss it.”
Another bow was directed in Wei Ying’s direction.
“Thank you, young master W-“
“Come on,” Wei Ying slapped a hand on Meng Yao’s shoulder in a friendly manner, “no need to be so polite with me, we’re not so different, are we? Now, I’ll leave you to do whatever you do here. Don’t let those guys get the better of you!”
With that said, he turned to Wangji who didn’t need to be told anything to follow. He would always, as long as Wei Ying still drew breath.
Jiang Cheng wiped his nose with one purple sleeve, now stained red.
“This was low, even for them,” Zixuan spoke angrily, fists clenched as if he was ready to punch someone. Their enemies were gone by then though, having left Jiang Cheng and a few other cultivators around him with bruises and the occasional bleeding nose. He was proud to say that he gave as good as he got but the hooded figures ran very quickly, much quicker than it would have taken for a real fight to break out. Jiang Cheng was no weakling, he had trained hard both at home and during his studies and Gusu, he could have given those people hell if only they let him reach for his talismans or draw his sword but they attacked sneakily and left quickly too.
“I dare them to come back!”
That was Jin Zixun, Zixuan’s cousin who wasn’t nearly as good as the latter but at least kicked like a mad horse when taken by surprise. Jiang Cheng felt vicious satisfaction at the fact that whoever was on the receiving end would be nursing fractured jaw that day.
“Cowards,” Jiang Cheng agreed with him for a change. “Hiding their faces as if it wasn’t obvious that Wen Chao sent them.”
“I’ll tell sect leader, see how Wen Chao likes it when-“
Zixun was ready to march off, right as he was, dirt stains on his golden clothing and all, when Zixuan grabbed his arm to hold him back.
“Wait,” Zixuan warned the other Jin. “Don’t give Wen Chao what he wants.”
“Huh?”
Unfortunately Jin Zixun’s only merits were his physical strength, anything else he lagged behind in, strategic thinking included. While the rest of the young cultivators in their group took stock of their injuries (minor, as Jiang Cheng noted with some relief), Yunmeng Jiang’s heir turned towards Zixun to explain.
“If any of our sect leaders confront Wen Ruohan about it, he’ll either deny it or use this fight as an excuse to send his army into the territory of anyone who disagrees with him.”
The Ouyang boy cradling his injured wrist gave him a dubious glance.
“Are you sure…? It sounds too much, even for them.”
Jiang Cheng was about to tell him to wake the fuck up and face reality when Jin Zixuan spoke up.
“It isn’t as farfetched as you think it is. I’ve read reports about the newest territories they gained, all of the reasons for invading are suspiciously similar. They latch onto minor conflicts and send in their army, pretending they were wronged.”
Well, to his credit, the guy managed to phrase that without any of the colorful swearwords Jiang Cheng would have put in there. Who knew, the peacock might just turn out to be a decent sect leader one day.
“He’s right,” Jiang Cheng agreed. His voice was a little muffled still but by now he was sure his nose wasn’t broken. It still hurt though, and he wasn’t happy about it. “Those fuckers will use everything to their advantage. They twist stories a lot.”
In their little group, some people started to look genuinely concerned, as if they hadn’t really considered the Wen to be a threat so far.
“So…,” a timid boy from some smaller sect spoke up, “what can we even do?”
What indeed…? None of them were in positions to go up to Wen Ruohan and punch him in the face without getting killed in the process and starting a war. They were still young, their positions in their sects weak, even those who were heirs or head disciples.
“We’ll make it as difficult for them to find excuses as we can,” Zixuan announced.
“And,” Jiang Chiang added as he stepped up next to the other cultivator, “we’ll let everyone know about the suspicious things the Wen are up to. If you spot something, send a letter to me. Or… to him,” he added with a side glance at Zixuan. Loathe as he might to admit it, Jiang Cheng wasn’t the only competent figure here. The once arrogant peacock happened to have a talent for politics when he put his pride aside and could keep his cool a little better than Jiang Cheng could. The difference was not such a great one, it meant Zixuan taking three seconds more to get up and hit someone with the nearest available object, but sometimes those seconds mattered. Say, when dealing with sect leaders and prominent cultivators. Or the Wen.
“Letters are all fine and good,” he heard a familiar voice and looked up to see Wei Ying squatting on the roof behind them. Of course he would choose to be dramatic and show up where the sun lit him from the back like some hero, when all he did was disappear for the night to do heavens only knew what with that favorite Lan of his. “But how about you use something more effective, hm?”
A dozen young cultivators looked up at him in various stages of confusion as Wei Ying pulled a stack of talismans out of his sleeve. They weren’t familiar to Jiang Cheng at all.
“Follow me, I’ll explain how they work,” Wei Ying announced with a proud little smirk. It could be the sign of either a gigantic flaming disaster (literally, he had set an entire port on fire once) or that of a genius plan. Jiang Cheng hoped for all of their sake that it was the latter.
It was inevitable for them to have a talk about discipline and good conduct but… Xichen couldn’t help but take the rulebreaker’s side for once. His little brother was practically glowing…! Who would have thought that Wangji would ever stare into space with such a soft expression on his face, that he would seem so happy that- Had he ever even looked this content before? Xichen could recall a much younger Wangji laughing with their mother, the mental image so distant it might as well have been lifetimes ago. Since her death, Wangji had been nothing but controlled and righteous – both of them qualities that made their sect proud but Xichen couldn’t help worrying that his little brother might be turning lifeless.
Not since the guest disciples arrived though. Wei Wuxian was the best thing that had ever happened to Wangji, Xichen knew that much and he was happy for his brother. It was just that their uncle was likely going to try and keep those two from meeting in hopes of Wangji returning to his old ways. But really, how could someone who knew Wangji and understood his gestures think that he could be kept from young master Wei? Never mind the shenanigans with the ribbon, the simple way he turned towards and looked at We Wuxian spoke of so much devotion that it made Xichen wonder if he should turn away so that soft gaze is only experienced by the one it was intended for.
“I’m disappointed in you,” Xichen heard from behind closed doors. They were back in Gusu already, having left the location of the archery competition at the break of dawn. “Your conduct is unacceptable.”
The older among the two brothers sighed, walked past the door and into the garden, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to change the mind of either his uncle or his brother. What he could change though…
“Shijie,” he saluted an older Lan cultivator respectfully. The woman was the third highest ranking medic in their sect and specialized in collecting various plants from both the gardens and the wider territories of Gusu. Her knowledge of medical herbs and their many uses could only be surpassed by the famous Wen Qing.
“Shidi,” she responded in kind. “Can I do something for you?”
Indeed, she could.
“This shidi has a humble request, if you would be willing to listen.”
Her lips quirked up into a rarely seen smile. Xichen was one of the lucky ones to see it more than once a decade, thanks to those months he spent at some point in his early teenage years helping her on one of her herb collecting journeys.
An hour later Xichen was happily carrying as many dry herbs as he could shove into the largest storage basket, heading into one of the caves of Gusu’s mountains. There, he placed them all in the middle of a formation painted exactly according to the instructions of young master Wei. True, Mingjue had looked at him as if Xichen had grown a second head the moment he brought up a network of low-level transportation talisman between sects but… they tested it last week after their meeting in Qinghe and now Xichen was intent on hoarding anything potentionally useful to key locations within Gusu so that those supplies could be sent to their allies. Right now it was only Qinghe, he didn’t know anyone trusting him with so much blind faith as Nie Mingjue in other sects, but perhaps in the future, the network could grow and help in fighting a battle where their numbers were not enough to beat the Wen – but their strategy might just be.
“What are you doing?”
“…!”
There was something frightening about the fact that their medic walked with lighter steps than most cultivators who were trained to be assassins.
“I’m…” What was the correct way to phrase that? The elders were barely willing to let him test extra barriers and tweaks to the existing one, the chances of his network project getting out this early and being welcome by Gusu’s traditional-minded leaders were slim at best. If his shijie told them now, there was a chance he would have to stop and-
“I don’t know much about talismans,” she spoke out loud while walking around the formation on the ground. It was a genius one, tweaking a transportation talisman in a way that even if several low-level cultivators with limited spiritual energy activated it, there was still an inbuilt balance preventing the formation or the objects within from being damaged. It wasn’t deemed safe to use for people but transporting weapons, medicine or maps this way could turn the tides of any war and Xichen could barely believe his own ears the first time an enthusiastic Wei Wuxian told him about the mechanics of this new invention. “But I see that it’s complicated. I also see that you’re hoarding things like animals do before winter, shidi. Tell me… is this because of Qishan Wen?”
Xichen let out a soft sigh, knowing that there was no way around it.
“It is,” he admitted, “I was hoping to keep a connection between sects through this. I trust the creator of this formation but…”
“The elders won’t,” the woman finished for him, as if she could read his mind. “They were always too slow. What does this thing do?”
“It sends objects to a predetermined location,” Xichen summarized to the best of his abilities. It wasn’t like a normal transportation talisman, it had to have an established end before being activated, otherwise it would never work.
“Hm,” his shijie hummed thoughtfully, “this could prolong a war. But… I’ve seen enough medical records of wars to know that it’s not a good thing. If you really want to protect Gusu from Wen Ruohan, you have to take him out directly.”
Lan Xichen, ever so calm and collected, nearly choked on his own spit from the surprise of seeing someone older than him even entertaining the thought of directly facing the feared sect leader of Qishan Wen. For most, like his uncle, it was a last resort, not the action to take.
“Ming-jie?!”
He broke at least four rules right on the spot but it wasn’t a major concern at the moment.
“What are you looking at me like that for? The sooner you finish off the man, the shorter the war. But you need a good plan for that.”
That, they did. Xichen had been thinking for a long time, especially since Wangji seemed to grow more and more concerned about the upcoming war. Initially it seemed like pessimism, but after receiving confidential reports that some of the younger disciples at the archery competition were beaten after the Gusu Lan delegation took off… Well, this added to the growing pile of evidence that Wen Ruohan was going to do more than just threatening its neighbors. He was going to attack. A method for stopping someone so powerful though…? It was easier said than done.
“I don’t know how you want to get rid of that man… or if anyone has the skills it takes. But if you need to poison people as part of whatever your plan is, you can always come to me. I have more of them in stock than I could ever use.”
That… was unexpected.
“… thank you, Ming-jie. About the elders-“
“They don’t need to know,” she waved his concerns off easily, “they were always too slow to realize when change needs to happen. You just go and do what you think is wisest.”
That was a lot of trust put into his person and Xichen hoped that he would be able to live up to it.