Chapter Text
Out of his robes, his hair in a braid instead of tied up and adorned, his sword on its rack at home, Lan Wangji wasn’t often recognized. In fact, when he introduced himself as a Lan, occasionally people would ask if he was somehow related to either Lan Xichen or even Lan Wangji, Hanguang-jun, himself. No one ever guessed that he himself, quiet, unassuming Lan Zhan was Hanguang-jun.
This was always a relief to Lan Wangji who despised being recognized outside of work. Some big-name cultivators were unmistakable in public, some by their own choice, like Jin Zixuan who was not only the face of Lanling, but also tended to make an accidental spectacle of himself in public. Some were just unavoidably recognizable, like Nie Mingjue with the cut of his jaw, his Nie braids he always wore even with jeans, and the way he carried his saber on his back everywhere. Lan Wangji had once been to lunch with Nie MIngjue and his brother and the saber had made an appearance, lying diagonally across the table and tripping up the wait staff a time or two, much to Lan Wangji’s embarrassment. Other cultivators simply made no effort to hide. Wei Wuxian had been like that before he’d disappeared. Going from a night hunt to class, not even putting his sword away, not even cleaning the grime off his robes. He’d craved the recognition the same way Lan Wangji had avoided it. That’s one reason Lan Wangji had tried to stay away from him in school, even though Wei Wuxian had pestered him constantly.
The Yiling Patriarch called him Lan Zhan. That was his name, of course, but that was his personal name, the one his mother had given him, the one he used when he bought groceries and went on dates and stayed home in his softest cardigan, healing from bruises and curses and sore knees.
He wasn’t Lan Zhan like this, and yet the Yiling Patriarch knew to call him that. Lan Wangji’s heart pounded so hard in his chest, he was afraid it might make the debris on his back shift with the beat of it.
“Who are you?” Lan Wangji asked. Demanded , really, though mostly because he was straining too hard to control his tone.
“Shouldn’t you know, after chasing me halfway across downtown?” The Patriarch responded with a sly grin. “I’m the Yiling Patriarch. DIdn’t you see my evil dizi and my dark robes?”
“No. Who are you? You used my personal name, shouldn’t you share the courtesy.”
“Ah, Lan Zhan, what if you’re disappointed at who I am behind this mask?”
Lan Wangji was beginning to recognize the tilt to that mouth, the little beauty mark that he was almost sure was his imagination because it was too dark to see properly, the hands that couldn’t stay still, dancing over his shoulders and waist and the dust around them. There was a name swelling his heart, tickling his throat that he dared not voice. He couldn’t handle the despair if he let himself think it, only to be wrong.
“Wei Ying,” he breathed anyway, helpless against that kind of hope.
The air was silent for a beat and then pierced with sudden laughter. Familiar laughter.
“Of course you figured it out!” The Yiling Patriarch, Wei Ying, exclaimed, reaching up to pull his mask off, hair sticking to the sweat found underneath it. “I had an entire conversation with Jin Zixuan the other day and he didn’t suspect a thing.”
Had his holding the weight on his back up not been the only thing keeping them from being crushed, he might have leaned in and caught that smiling mouth in a kiss. His face, lit only by the dim light of the crack in the debris, so dear and beautiful.
Wei Wuxian was alive . He was alive and here, inches from Lan Wangji’s face, smiling like he hadn’t a care in the world.
“Wei Ying,” he breathed again, a tremble to his voice that belied the lump in his throat. “You’re alive.”
Lan Wangji had so many questions, but they all got clumped together in his throat so that when he tried to speak, all that came out was some strangled sound that echoed through the collapsed space as a sob. Lan Wangji couldn’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed even as tears clouded his vision.
“Ah, Lan Zhan, don’t cry,” Wei Ying, precious, wonderful, here , said, bringing his hand up as if to cup Lan Wangji’s cheek, though he stopped short just before making contact. “Don’t cry over this one.”
Lan Wangji had cried over Wei Ying before. He had cried over him more than he’d cried about anything else in his life, but Lan Wangji wouldn’t even group this with that. These tears were happy. Were overwhelmed and overjoyed. Wei Ying was alive. How could he do anything but weep. Lan Wangji was strained and in pain, his back feeling like one massive bruise at this point, but he would rather be here than anywhere else in the world because here had brought him back his Wei Ying.
“Wei Ying, you’re alive,” he repeated before realizing that he hadn’t said anything else. “You–” Lan Wangji paused. “Blew up Koi Tower?”
Wei Ying laughed loudly, his hot breath brushing over Lan Wangji’s face and neck. This had been an annoyance not two minutes ago, but now it was so beloved, proof that Wei Ying was breathing, proof that Wei Ying was here with him.
After a moment Wei Ying’s laughter trailed off.
“Didn’t I just tell you,” he muttered with a nudge to Lan Wangji’s shoulder. “That wasn’t me.”
And though Lan Wangji had been on the fence as to the Yiling Patriarch’s guilt, any suspicion fell away now. Wei Ying would never. Lan Wangji hadn’t seen him in years, but he knew Wei Ying more than he knew anyone else in the world. Wei Ying wouldn’t put so many people in harm's way no matter how obnoxious he thought the Jin were.
“You are a wanted criminal, though,” Lan Wangji said because all he wanted to do was collapse into Wei Ying’s arms which was a bad idea because that would likely lead to both of their deaths. Lan Wangji wasn’t going to lose Wei Ying this soon after getting him back.
“Hey, I’m innocent!” Wei YIng replied, pinching Lan Wangji on the earlobe and tugging in retribution. “You shouldn’t believe everything you read in the news.”
Lan Wangji had missed him so much, even when he was being a brat.
“You blasted a whole wall from the cultivation prison and allowed nearly 100 prisoners to escape.”
“Well…yeah,” Wei Ying said, “But–"
Lan Wangji didn’t let him continue.
“You ruined the biggest wedding in this generation.
“I just wanted to see my Jie get married. It was everyone else that threw a fit about it,” Wei Ying said, his lips poking out into a pout.
I love you , Lan Wangji nearly said out loud. Anxiety prickled his scalp as he bit his tongue to keep those words in. A part of him wanted to just say it, but a bigger part screamed that if he did and Wei Wing rejected him, then he might just lose him all over again.
“You nearly killed the heir of Lanling,” Lan Wangji said once he knew he wasn’t going to blurt a confession.
“I was framed.”
Lan Wangji rolled his eyes which was uncharacteristic but called for. That’s what they all said. Literally.
“Ah, please believe me Lan Zhan, I would never do anything to hurt Jie like that,” he said as if he hadn’t devastated her with his disappearance.
“Why haven’t you told anyone you’re alive?” Lan Wangji asked because it felt like he was drowning, though that may have been the weight on his back.
Wei Ying glanced up to Lan Wangji’s face and then away again, his hands moving to fiddle with Lan Wangji’s collar. The Yiling Patriarch’s hands on him had made his heart flutter, but Wei Ying’s made him burn .
“A-Jie knows,” Wei Ying said
That stung. Lan Wangji still talked to Jiang Yanli about Wei Ying at times, and he considered her someone who mourned beside him. The lump returned to his throat at being kept in the dark like this.
“I told Jiang Cheng too, but that’s it, and only because I knew he would kill me if I didn’t tell him. I’m sorry, Lan Zhan, I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how.”
Some bitter part of Lan Wangji wanted to keep his next words in just as retaliation, but he couldn’t. He was full of joy and he wanted Wei Ying to feel the same.
“My son,” he said, causing Wei Ying’s head to tilt in confusion. “Lan Sizhui. He was Wen Yuan before I adopted him.”
He felt it in Wei Ying’s chest when his breath stuttered to a stop before leaving him in one big rush.
“A-Yuan is okay?” He asked, his voice tinged with something desperate. “Once I was in a place to come back to get him, I couldn’t find him and no one could tell me where he had gone.”
Because no one knew. Lan Wangji hadn’t made a big production and no one close to Wei Ying had even known about A-Yuan so not even Jiang Yanli would have known to tell Wei Ying about Lan Wangji’s son.
“He’s okay,” Lan Wangji assured, to a helpless relieved laugh from Wei Ying. “He’s most likely at school right now. My uncle will pick him up and take him to piano lessons since I am not available.”
Wei Ying laughed again, but his voice was choked with tears when he spoke.
“He takes piano lessons?” Wei Ying asked like it was something so wonderful. In a way it was. A-Yuan was so okay that he did something so mundane as take piano lessons. “He always said he wanted to learn the flute. Is that your influence?”
Lan Wangji knew the smile on Wei Ying’s lips would taste so sweet. He nearly trembled with want.
“Xichen’s I believe,” Lan Wangji answered. “When he woke up, he didn’t have many memories. He just kept asking for gege. Eventually, he convinced himself I was the gege he was looking for, though I was sure it was actually you.”
“Yeah, he called me gege ,” Wei Ying said. “I hadn’t had him long enough to talk about him calling me baba .” Wei Ying gasped and then covered his mouth with his knuckles though the sound he made still came out, some sob mixed with laughter. “Is that what he calls you? Are you baba ?”
Lan Wangji wanted to pull out a thousand pictures and lead Wei Ying through everything he’d missed. Instead he said, “Yes.”
“Ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said with another helpless laugh.
And then Lan Wangji was being kissed.