Chapter Text
Wei Wuxian has several sets of robes that he can change into every day for at least a week before he will have to be completely naked while doing his laundry and waiting for them to dry. From afar, they look almost the same, designed to look similar perhaps for the sake of simplicity. Only those lucky enough to stand close to him will see the subtle differences. The brocade patterns are different for each one of his robe. Wei Wuxian likes how snug the materials feel against his skin, too.
On a quiet day like this, he is suddenly reminded of the very existence of the robes in the first place. As far as he can remember, even with his poor memory, he never had to buy them. From the first day he arrived at The Cloud Recesses many, many months ago, he had changed into the robe Lan Wangji had carefully placed by the bed for him to change into, the fabric much more exquisite than the outfit Mo Xuanyu was wearing when he had summoned Wei Wuxian’s soul.
Now that he thinks about it, the robes used to feel a little longer and bigger at first, but not enough to appear unfit for his use. He loves the silken feel of his inner robe, smooth to the touch as well as the lightweight feature of his outer robes, accommodating even for swift battle stances. He doesn’t remember buying any clothes but there they are, always ready for him.
Lately, the number of robes seems to have expanded, the new ones fitting better than ever. Even the old ones feel like they fit him better now.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Wei Wuxian leaves the bedroom and approaches the cupboard where Lan Wangji keeps spare rolls of paper and ink. He has a new idea for a new invention that they can use to make night hunts a better experience, especially for the junior disciples. Because of his bad memory, he needs to write the ideas down before he is distracted by other matters. He almost always does get distracted.
Opening the cupboard, his eyes are immediately drawn to an ornamental box on the second topmost shelf. It is not big enough to hold scrolls, so letting his curiosity gets the better of him, Wei Wuxian opens the box. Inside, he finds spools of threads and needles. The only person who can enter the Jingshi, beside Lan Wangji himself, is Wei Wuxian. Why does Lan Wangji need this sewing kit?
It is at that exact moment that the gears inside Wei Wuxian’s mind start turning a little faster, his heart skips a bit when he connects the threads and needles to the knowledge of how his clothes seem to fit him better lately. Perhaps Lan Wangji has been altering his clothes secretly! The mere thought brings warmth and mirth at the mental image of Lan Wangji sitting at his study, mending Wei Wuxian’s robes.
A memory, one from way back, echoes in his head, chasing away the mirth from his face.
“Wei Ying, come back to Gusu with me.”
His heart begins to beat faster and he brings his right hand to his chest above where his heart rests, putting a little pressure as if to calm his sudden frenzied heartbeat.
What if — no, no, it can’t be.
But still, just, what if, from way back then, Lan Wangji had hoped that Wei Wuxian would follow him back to Gusu? What if, since many, many years ago, Lang Wangji had kept the clothes that would fit Wei Wuxian in his old body in hope that the latter would have a change of heart?
Lan Wangji had waited, and waited, and waited for Wei Wuxian to return with him to Gusu. When the old Wei Wuxian thought he was going to be judged and punished, hidden away for his demonic cultivation, Lan Wangji was instead preparing for a warm welcome, ready to cater to his every need, readying new sets of outfits crafted with materials fitting for the king of his heart.
This body gifted to him by Mo Xuanyu is smaller, slenderer and a little shorter. Maybe, just maybe, the clothes were originally tailored to fit Wei Wuxian’s old body, the difference of six centimeters in height now becoming very apparent the longer he stares at the spools of thread and needles in the box.
Oh, oh, his heart... his heart!
There is a sudden sting at the back of his eyes but the tears don’t fall. Yes, Wei Wuxian’s heart aches for Lan Wangji who had mourned and suffered alone. Above all, he is overcome by a strong surge of joy he can barely contain.
The robe he is wearing right now is another embodiment of Lan Wangji’s form of silent love for Wei Wuxian alone, an undying love so pure it makes Wei Wuxian grateful to have been given another chance at life. He shudders at the thought of never having the chance to experience one of the greatest blessings life has ever bestowed upon him - Lan Wangji’s devotion.
Closing the box and then the cupboard, he suddenly doesn’t feel like writing anymore. The ideas can wait. Right now, he has something else to do. Smoothing his robe, he walks out of the Jingshi in search of Lan Wangji, overcome with the urge to run into the man’s arms and breathe in the calming scent of sandalwood clinging to his body.
Lan Zhan.
I’m in Gusu with you.
And I’m home.