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Lan WangJi had learned about soulmates from a young age. He knew about their clan's great ancestor who had found his fated person, and how they became cultivation partners. Even though they were known as the most disciplined sect, love had always been their bedrock, the foundation of their history, as recorded in the windows of the Lan Ancestral Hall, older than the rules that were carved into the mountain. He knew all about soulmates from Lan QiRen's teachings, but honestly, WangJi thought he needn't have bothered. He had witnessed the fate of soulmates from a young age; he knew its truth and its poison, saw how it had ruined his parents' lives, how it made his father seclude himself from the rest of the world, and how it made a prisoner of his mother. Love was more destructive than any force he had ever known and he didn't want any part of it. He was afraid.
The words on his left forearm had appeared one morning, curling underneath the surface as though they were his own veins just now making themselves known, his blood turned ink. He noticed them after he woke, prickling and itching like new skin formed after a cut, and tried desperately to remove them during his bath, rubbing until his skin was raw and pink. They didn't fade at all.
He showed the words to Lan XiChen and Lan QiRen, who had been happy for him and congratulated him, respectively. His uncle's eyes had been sharp and piercing, like he had been trying to see through WangJi's heart and his intent. He could see the unspoken warning in them, and maybe even a hint of worry. A chill passed through them briefly, his father's presence more palpable as a ghost than it ever had been as a parent. His brother, on the other hand, had merely smiled at him.
Both he and and his brother bowed their respects as their uncle made his leave. WangJi looked at his brother again, and wondered. Lan XiChen had not yet been marked as far as he knew. He had assumed they were of the same mind when it came to the idea of soulmates, being their father's sons and having seen firsthand what a messy affair it had all been.
When his brother invited him to take a walk with him, he nodded quickly, grateful for a chance to clear his head. There was barely any wind, but the air was cool and light. They walked silently. He could hear the roar of the falls getting louder and louder, the higher they climbed, the winding trail becoming narrower. The smell of the earth was quite overpowering, but he could still detect the faint scents of magnolias, chrysanthemums, and gentians in the air. This was the trail that led to his mother's cottage.
"I know you're scared, but you don't have to be."
His brother had always had the uncanny ability to read his mind, despite the flurry of thoughts currently in it, a hurricane borne from flight of ideas, wings flapping angrily flitting this way and that, and him in the eye of the storm. The tranquil facade of water just before a single leaf breaks the smooth surface.
"I don't want to be like father." He whispered under his breath, brows furrowed, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, as his fear gripped his heart even tighter.
Lan XiChen put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly, a warm, comfortable weight steadying him against the onslaught trying to tear its way through him.
"This isn't a curse, WangJi. I'll let you in on a little secret." His brother paused for a second, as WangJi waited with bated breath, and everything - the humming mountains, the roaring waters, and creaking trees - descended into stillness with him. The words tattooed on his arm seemed to burn ice cold, heavy with expectation, holding him like shackles. He felt trapped. WangJi honed in on his brother's breath, strained to hear his words before his voice could sound them, waiting for the secret that would free him. He swore he could hear the faint fluttering of wings in the distance, a bird taking flight.
"You don't have to fall in love with your soulmate."
WangJi couldn't suppress his shock and he stared at his brother closely. He could see no trace of deceit on his brother's face.
"A soulmate can be a friend. It doesn't have to be romantic. It just means that you will never be alone again. And that's all I want for you, little brother."
With a smile, Lan XiChen let go of his shoulder, and walked on ahead, leaving WangJi with his thoughts.
Without really thinking about it, his body kept moving after a second's quiet, to follow his brother to where the trail ended. The muted sounds all around him returned slowly, but sounded like he was hearing them from still a distance away, as though he were underwater. Every time he lifted his foot to take another step on the stone path, it felt heavier and heavier. He felt surrounded, pressure coming from all sides, squeezing the air out of his lungs until he was drowning. He didn't feel free at all. And his mother certainly hadn't been free either.
WangJi thought that the cottage looked exactly the same, though he hadn't been here in many years. As they made their way closer, however, he started noticing the overgrown grass, the brambles underfoot, and the distinctive and familiar sense of solitude and sadness that WangJi had always associated with abandoned things. He supposed there was a part of him, some dark corner of his heart, that also lay abandoned since the day his mother had left him. He used to come here once a month, even after his mother had gone. He remembered waiting in front of a wooden door, straining to hear his mother's voice behind it, her soft footfalls, her gentle heartbeat. The mountain had never sounded so deadly quiet than it had then.
This cottage had been his mother's cage.
WangJi felt a surge of hot resentment flash briefly within him, scorching his insides and choking off his air. He swallowed it down and tried to remain composed, blinking back the heat in his eyes. A shaky exhale had his brother turning towards him, concern written on the lines of his face.
"May I go inside?" He asked, not even a tremble in his voice as he managed to calm his nerves.
His brother looked like he had been expecting this. WangJi stayed still under that scrutinizing gaze, unsure what his brother was reading on his face. His body still felt heavy, all that pressure from earlier solidifying and holding him in place. Even the air in his lungs felt dense. His brother, seemingly satisfied, led the way to the closed wooden door from his memory.
He expected something - a spell to be undone, or maybe even something as simple as a key. For all that the door had seemed insurmountable to him as a child, as immovable and daunting as the mountains their home was built on, Lan XiChen had pushed it open so easily, with barely a creak.
He released a breath he hadn't known he was holding, and stepped inside. He remembered, with a sinking feeling, that his mother's life had ended in this space. The room had seemed so much bigger and brighter with the sound of her laughter whenever he and his brother had been allowed to visit. She loved to tease him. Now, the walls had closed in, blocking out most of the light, leaving only the narrowest streaks where the dust motes gently drifted down. He could see the remnants of drawings and verses he had made for her littered on a desk in a far corner of the room, beside a perfectly made bed. These were the bits and pieces of himself he had left behind to keep his mother company, though he had been far too young to understand what loneliness felt like.
In all of his childhood memories, his mother had been nothing but warmth and joy, laughter and song, and a fierce sort of kindness. She had been a radiant flame, teasing and playful, but also endlessly warm. For one day in a month, that had been who his mother was whenever WangJi saw her. But what about the rest of her days behind that closed door? She had never complained, he knew, but trapped in this small cottage, WangJi couldn't help but wonder if that flame had been snuffed out. He had never asked her how she felt and she had never told him. Apart from their one day visit each month, she had spent the rest of her days in this cottage alone. All he and his brother had left of her were their birth names - Lán Huàn and Lán Zhàn. Had she named his brother because she had wanted a different soulmate (換)? Had she named him because she had wanted to wage war (戰) against fate?
He gripped his left forearm to distract himself from the way his heart was clenching painfully in his chest. Despite his brother's reassurance, somewhere in the back of his mind, there was still this nagging fear that the same tragedy awaited him and his soulmate.
He hoped he would never find them.
It had seemed like a blessing from the gods when words started appearing on people's bodies. It took a while to figure out what they meant. Lan An, their founder, had been the first one to successfully find his soulmate - the very first words she had said to him indelibly inked under his skin. The words were never something so simple as a person's name. The curious thing was, according to their historical records, Lan An's cultivation partner had been unmarked. After she died peacefully in her sleep, their founder left the Cloud Recesses and returned to his temple.
Bolstered by the Lan founder's story, people had traveled far and wide in search for the person who would speak the words that the gods had granted them. What they found was nothing short of disastrous.
The most famous of these stories had been that of a man named Meng Jia. He had found his soulmate Hong LinYu when she asked him for directions, having just arrived in Yangzhou. Her question had been etched on the side of his chest, along his sixth rib, ever since he was ten years old, and was entirely the reason why he chose to stay in the area. The problem was that the same glint of recognition had not graced her eyes at his response. And despite his insistence that she was his soulmate, the evidence of it right there, she had refused to believe him because she was already engaged to be wed to the man she knew to be her soulmate. The evidence of their truths were both there, as sure as the blood in their veins. Maybe Meng Jia had been mistaken, she suggested. Maybe there was someone else who would say those exact same words to him. He, on the other hand, suggested that the mistake may be hers, and that left them at an impasse. Still, he had tried to keep Hong LinYu in his life; and in a short time, they became close friends. As her wedding day crept closer and closer, she felt a small seed of doubt take hold. She couldn't hide it from her fiancé. Liu Bao had always been a jealous man, and he had loved Hong LinYu since childhood. He had found out about her mark without her knowledge, and manipulated an encounter to make her fall in love with him. His jealousy drove him to murder Meng Jia. However, with his last words, Hong LinYu figured out what had happened. Meng Jia's last words were the ones hidden in the curve of her waist, under the hem of her skirt. "I want you to be happy..."
A pair of soulmates. A beginning and an end. A gift and a curse. One would recognize the other upon their first meeting, but the other would only be certain upon their lover's death.
Perhaps the gods had just been bored one day and decided to have some fun at the humans' expense. Perhaps someone had invited their wrath. This was cruelty, plain and simple.
For a few decades, history saw tragedy after tragedy. More often than not, they were the result of falsehoods, misrecognition, and arrogance. Some thought they could change their fate by consciously avoiding the end words, or avoiding speech entirely. It didn't matter.
People counted themselves lucky if they remain unmarked. They remained free - to choose, to love, to live - unfettered and unaware. Luckily for everyone else, the marks had appeared less and less frequently. The tragedies scattered across time had taken on the quality of folklore, eventually descending into gossip, meant to be heard and taken with a grain of salt. Some believed that the gods have had their fill. Others have suggested that perhaps people have just taken to denying their marks entirely, choosing to live their soulmate-free lives without consequence.
WangJi didn't need further proof that the mark brought ruin and chaos, but he still spent an afternoon in the Library Pavilion reading every anthology on soulmates, and feeling physically ill afterwards.
It was telling that what WangJi feared the most about all of this was becoming like his father. Not his mother whose freedom had been taken away for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time to the wrong person. Maybe, WangJi thought, a lightness in his chest he refused to call hope, Father had been wrong. Perhaps his mother was not his father's soulmate. It could all have been a mistake of keeping the wrong person, a person who may have not wanted to be kept. WangJi didn't want to make that same mistake; he didn't want someone to become a prisoner of his love. He would give his soulmate the choice his mother had not been given.
He didn't realize his resolve would be tested so soon.
WangJi had caught him sneaking in while he was on night patrol, one leg nearly over the edge of the tiled roof. He was wearing clothes of the YunmengJiang sect, a red ribbon tying back his unruly black hair, and his dark eyes gleamed mischievously, with light that could easily have lit up the moon that night. WangJi had jumped up onto the roof, though he didn't know what had compelled him to do so. He felt like a moth drawn to a flame. The boy stood up and faced him, a wide smile breaking over his features. He was, in a word, radiant. WangJi felt disarmed by that smile. It felt like his heart had suddenly slipped out of place in his chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. A warmth seemed to spread throughout his body, and WangJi was suddenly struck by a ridiculous thought that he was melting. Under the curtain of night, WangJi could have sworn that he was looking directly at the sun.
"It's Emperor's Smile. I'll give you a jar."
His hand found its way to his left forearm without consciously thinking about it, and he gripped it hard enough to leave bruises. All that warmth the boy had stirred up in him was instantly doused by the ice-cold flash of fear.
His soulmate was a boy who lit up the darkness like he carried the sun with him. WangJi wondered how this boy could ever have thought to sneak in, when he was so obnoxiously bright.
"Can you pretend you never saw me?"
A shiver ran down his spine and for a single, painful, panicked heartbeat, WangJi thought that the boy knew. But then he regained the thread of conversation, and used it to pull his thoughts and his heart back to familiar ground - rules and punishment.
Lan WangJi broke a rule the night he met his soulmate. Unsanctioned duels are forbidden in the Cloud Recesses. As that boy danced around him, so achingly carefree, he couldn't help but think that, tucked away in the glint of those grey eyes and in the shine of that smile, there was a promise for more. More life, more warmth, and certainly, WangJi thought, with grim exasperation and fond resignation, more rule-breaking.
That boy, Wei WuXian, he would soon know, always delivered on his promises.
He had been sentenced to a month of Wei WuXian's company in the Library Pavilion. Though WangJi was reluctant to admit it, that wasn't entirely true. Lan QiRen had asked him to supervise him, keep an eye out as it were, but what his uncle didn't know was that WangJi was already having trouble looking away. There was just something about him that drew his eye. He was certain that even if he had no idea that Wei WuXian was his soulmate, it would inevitably have led to this. Wei WuXian was simply too everything to even be allowed, the personification of the word excess.
He was infuriating and endearing in equal measure. WangJi had never felt so many conflicting emotions inside of him. He wanted to keep him and tell him to get lost in the same breath. Wei Ying seemed to have made it his life's ambition to tease him relentlessly, to get under his skin and shatter his cool composure. What were the gods playing at suggesting that this person could be his soulmate? The words on his forearm had to have been a mistake.
It didn't help at all that his brother was positively delighted that WangJi seemed to be making a new friend. It absolutely didn't help that his brother, who always saw through him, thought it was a good idea to invite Wei Ying to deal with water ghouls.
"You looked as if you wanted him to come along."
Utterly ridiculous and unhelpful.
It also didn't help that Wei Ying seemed to have a vendetta against addressing him in a proper manner. It was Lan Er-Ge this, or Lan Zhan that. WangJi had never heard so many variations of his name until Wei Ying had learned it. And his traitorous heart had not failed to jump every single time he'd heard him call.
He had not heard Wei Ying call his name when he crashed into the water. The bottom of his chest had given out, and his heart was in free fall, plummeting down, down, down.
All sound disappeared the moment Wei Ying vanished under the tumultuous water. He could see Jiang WanYin yelling for his brother, screaming his lungs out, held back by two other disciples to keep him from jumping in after Wei Ying. The roar of the water still trying to catch at their heels should have been deafening, absolutely ear-splitting, but there was nothing but this loud and oppressive silence. WangJi had always welcomed the quiet and the stillness, but now, oh how he hated it. Like no time had passed at all, he dove in after Wei Ying and wrenched him from the clutches of the Waterborne Abyss. And when Wei Ying gasped his first breath after resurfacing, WangJi had heard that sweet sound and felt his own heart sing with relief.
Wei Ying had looked up at him, skin pale and clammy, but eyes still every bit as bright as that night they first met, and said "Aren't we already so close, Lan Zhan? I'm not just another person to you."
Over time, WangJi realized that, in all the ways that mattered, Wei Ying was every bit of the righteousness that the GusuLan sect wanted to instill in their disciples - without apology or pretense, and without losing any of his vibrancy. WangJi saw through him, straight to his heart, and it had been a choice so obvious that he couldn't even recall when he had made it - choosing to love him.
You don't have to fall in love with your soulmate, his brother had said. But WangJi thought, it would have been more foolish not to.
The realization that he was in love with Wei Ying did not make him immune to how aggravating Wei Ying can be when he tries. WangJi refused to make any exceptions for him and even went as far as punishing himself as well, the next time Wei Ying had tried to sneak in. Breaking curfew. Just another rule WangJi had been forced into breaking. Apart from being dragged into Wei Ying's pace and pulled into his orbit, WangJi in love wasn't all that different from the way he normally was. The only difference was that he now had to actively stamp down the urge to wipe that smile off of Wei Ying's face with his own mouth, to quell the desire to push him against the nearest surface and kiss him senseless.
It was no surprise that he found himself more and more often in the Cold Spring.
There was a part of him that wanted Wei Ying to choose him willingly. He didn't know if it was borne of selflessness or selfishness, that he wanted Wei Ying to be free to choose, the way his mother hadn't been, and that he wanted to be chosen not because of a few arbitrary words tattooed on his skin but simply for himself.
"Lan Zhan!"
Wei Ying's gleeful shout broke through his thoughts, and WangJi turned just in time to see him carelessly jump into the Cold Spring.
"It's cold here." Wei Ying shivered, trying to rub warmth back into his arms.
"How did you get in here?" WangJi was relieved to find that his voice did not quiver, despite the fact that his heart was trying to jump out of his chest.
"Zewu-Jun let me in."
Betrayed by his own blood, WangJi couldn't believe it. But that thought was abruptly pushed aside when he noticed Wei Ying moving towards him.
"Why are you getting closer?"
"Seems warmer on your side."
Ridiculous. Didn't Wei Ying know of his own power? That he brought the sun with him wherever he goes?
"It's not."
He had been trying to focus only on Wei Ying's eyes. He had tried to avoid letting his own eyes roam over Wei Ying's exposed skin, to avoid looking for Wei Ying's mark, if he even had one. Either he didn't try hard enough, or it was just too difficult to avoid, because right there in the center of Wei Ying's chest were three words delicately curled above his heart.
I love you.
Wei Ying caught him looking at the mark before he could turn away.
"Say, Lan Zhan, what do you think about soulmates?"
WangJi didn't even have the words to describe the complicated mess of feelings and thoughts he had about the concept of soulmates, and about his very own soulmate standing behind him. So he said nothing.
"I've had this on my chest since I lost my parents."
And there it was again. That compulsion. To look at Wei Ying, to be closer to him, especially when he sounded like that. WangJi couldn't stop himself.
Wei Ying shook his head briefly, as if trying to dispel the fog that had pushed him to share that truth. For a fraction of a moment, Wei Ying had looked too vulnerable. He recovered quickly from that lapse, though the smile he put on his face didn't have its usual glamour.
"It's wonderful to think that there's somebody out there who loves me. Or rather, will love me, I suppose." He paused, before barreling on. "My soulmate is so lucky though, don't you think? It'll be love at first sight. But I'll need to be charming one hundred percent of the time if I want to find her." He said, with an air of complaint, before throwing WangJi a wink.
"Shameless."
Wei Ying merely laughed at him.
"What about you, Lan Zhan? Do you have a soulmate? Have you found her? Is she as pretty as you?"
WangJi felt his ears burn at the knowledge that Wei Ying found him pretty. He subtly hid his forearm from Wei Ying's view.
"Girls in Yunmeng are exceptionally pretty. You should come visit and I'll show you around! That's just one of the benefits of being friends with me, Lan Er Gongzi. You might even meet your soulmate there."
"No."
"Don't just keep saying no, Lan Zhan. Girls won't like it."
The words on his forearm felt like they were boiling. At that moment, WangJi wanted nothing more than to be far away from this conversation. Because his soulmate wasn't a girl. His soulmate was standing right there and it was clear from all his talk that WangJi was not even a remote possibility in his mind. He felt irrationally angry all of a sudden and hastily left the Cold Spring, leaving Wei Ying calling for him and telling him to come back.
I love you.
Those three words would be the last thing he'd ever say to Wei Ying. And wasn't that just the cruelest thing? To lose him just as soon as he'd given him his heart? WangJi shook his head furiously. No. It didn't have to be that way. Those may be his last words to Wei Ying, but it didn't have to be the first time he'd ever say them. There could be a century of I love you's between the first and the last. He refused to let them be another tragedy lost to history.
Maybe, WangJi thought stubbornly, maybe he'd just never say it at all. But he thought of Wei Ying, his wild heart and carefree spirit, and knew it would be impossible to keep those words to himself. His heart was already struggling to hold the enormous weight of emotions he feels for Wei Ying, his love now constantly on the tip of his tongue. Swallowing it down had started leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, but he'd endure for as long as he could.
He came close to spilling it all out when Wei Ying was racked with fever. It had been a close call, fighting with the Xuanwu of Slaughter. He had held onto the chord in his hands for six hours, until the beast's head had almost been severed, not knowing if Wei Ying was alive or dead. He didn't know if it was blind faith or false hope, but a part of him was certain Wei Ying couldn't be dead. WangJi hadn't said the words yet. But another part of him scoffed at his naivety. Tomorrow was never promised, no matter what the mark implied. He pulled Wei Ying out of the beast's mouth, one arm around his shoulder, the other his waist, holding him close to his body. His euphoria and relief when Wei Ying woke up almost caused him to lose his balance. Despite their success in killing the Xuanwu, they had lost their way out, and had no alternative but to swim back to shore and wait for help to arrive. Wei Ying had been so focused on treating WangJi's leg the past few days that he didn't take care of himself. The burn wound on his chest was probably infected.
He had scolded Wei Ying for being rash, and getting himself hurt, but hadn't he been the same when he pushed Wei Ying out of the way and had his right leg almost bitten off by a divine beast as a result? Truthfully, he was angrier at Wei Ying's flippant attitude about who he flirted with, knowing he had no intentions toward them. He had taken WangJi's forehead ribbon again, this time more deliberately, rather than accidentally at the archery competition. It infuriated him that Wei Ying didn't understand, and still doesn't, the meaning behind the act. It was not his to take, although WangJi would give it to him willingly in the right circumstances. He just wanted Wei Ying to mean it. He was always teasing, always fooling around, and it hurt sometimes that for all that Wei Ying seemingly wanted to be his friend, he was so careless with WangJi's heart.
And WangJi constantly had to remind himself that Wei Ying doesn't know that he was his soulmate. It's not his fault.
WangJi settled him down on the cave floor and inspected his wound. The skin surrounding the crest of the QishanWen sect was an angry red, the edges raised and parts of it blackened. The words I love you had been obliterated by the sun. WangJi cleaned the wound as best he could, but they had used up all the medicine they had a few days ago. He held Wei Ying's hand in both of his and, started passing him spiritual energy. Wei Ying fussed and tried to refuse but WangJi wouldn't have it.
He was burning up. It seemed like he was going to lose consciousness at any moment.
"Lan Zhan... your hands are badly cut. You should bandage..." His eyes shuttered close for a second.
"Wei Ying! Don't fall asleep." He urged.
"How about you sing me a song then? Keep me awake..."
WangJi was taken aback, but he didn't refuse Wei Ying this time. The song he sang was something he'd been working on for a while, even before he met Wei Ying. But it had remained incomplete, an unfinished melody, half of a duet, until the day he had heard Wei Ying's laugh. The rest of the song had revealed itself to him then, the same way Wei Ying had revealed himself as WangJi's soulmate a year ago. It had snuck into his heart, and cradled it with warmth.
They were rescued by YunmengJiang sect a week after this whole ordeal. He left Wei Ying in their care and made his own way back to Gusu. As much as he'd wanted to go with them to Lotus Pier and make sure Wei Ying was all right, he needed to go back home. He needed to see his father.
He had so many questions, about soulmates, about mistakes and regrets, about his mother.
He didn't get his answers.
Qingheng Jun passed away and was mourned by what remained of their sect. WangJi mourned a father he never really knew, who had found his soulmate, and yet spent most of his life alone and in seclusion. His brother had told him that having a soulmate meant that he would never be alone again. But here he was, in a home that was burned down, his father dead, his brother missing, and WangJi had never felt more alone. It couldn't possibly get any worse, he thought.
He was wrong.
Lotus Pier was decimated. Wei Ying and Jiang WanYin were missing. Jiang YanLi, at least, was safe and sound. WangJi sent a few disciples to her location and protect her, and sent others to look for Wei Ying and Jiang WanYin. The last time he saw Wei Ying, he had been weak and sick with fever. He refused to let that be his last image of him.
Wei Ying seemed to have disappeared into thin air. The only trace of him left was a silver bell embedded in the earth. Neither living nor dead could answer WangJi's inquiry. He knew though, the same way he knew back in that cave, that Wei Ying had to be alive. The words he hadn't yet said felt like a lifeline, a secret he would take to the grave if it would ensure Wei Ying's survival.
He had never wanted to say it more than when Wei Ying had come back in a viscous whirlwind of resentful energy and chilling shrill of flute song. The smile on his face had lost its radiance; it was cold and cruel, a sharp slice of a smile, and it tore at WangJi, tore at his heart to see Wei Ying like this. He had been yearning, searching for the warmth of the sun, his sun, these past three months, only to find that it had been shot down. Throughout history, there had always been a price to pay for cultivating a demonic path. The cost now was Wei Ying's heart and there was absolutely no way that WangJi could allow it. The price was too steep.
"Come back to Gusu with me," he pleaded.
But Wei Ying had never understood him. Not then and definitely not now. WangJi had never demanded him to understand, had never asked him to return his feelings; he had wanted wholeheartedly for Wei Ying to choose him for him. It led to one misunderstanding after another, and it was too late to undo everything. Wei Ying thought that WangJi disliked him, possibly even hated him. Even though he said that the visit wasn't for denouncing Wei Ying, his intentions couldn't reach him through that thick cloud of resentment. He and Jiang WanYin were consumed by revenge. WangJi couldn't blame them. They had lost too much. One thing was clear though - Wei Ying did not choose him. And he returned to Gusu alone.
WangJi thought he could finally understand his father, just a little bit. There was someone that he desperately wanted to keep. His brother looked surprised when he voiced his intentions. "I want to take him back and hide him somewhere." Somewhere he could be safe. Somewhere no one could hurt him.
As he had feared, he truly was his father's son.
When it all became too much, when Wei Ying had finally snapped and lost all control, when Jiang YanLi had been... had gone, WangJi was there to pick up the pieces.
He'd hidden him away, like he wanted to. And somehow, between trying to comfort Wei Ying and feeling him slip further and further where he could not follow, the words had spilled from his mouth. He loved him. He loved him so much. And it was too much and not enough all at the same time. He knelt in front of Wei Ying and held his hand, whispering his quiet reassurances and soft promises. I love you, Wei Ying. I love you. He fiercely hoped it wouldn't be the last time he'd ever say it.
"Get out," he said through gritted teeth. He was shaking all over, and he wrenched his hand out of WangJi's hold and yelled even louder, "Get out!"
His brother, his uncle, and a few dozen elders had found them. WangJi knew that they wanted to talk some sense into him. They wanted him to surrender Wei Ying. The safest place for him right now, whether he liked it or not, was the Burial Mounds, where the resentful energy was so thick, they wouldn't even dare go in after him. He just had to get him there. He had to keep Wei Ying safe. It didn't matter that Wei Ying didn't love him back. He was his soulmate and he would never leave him alone.
When he had accomplished his goal, he returned to the Cloud Recesses to receive his punishment - over thirty lashes from the discipline whip. He knew he would carry those scars with him for life, but it felt like such a small price to pay. He was placed in seclusion for meditation, but it was also to allow him to heal from his wounds. He would need three years to recover.
Weak and wounded as he was, something happened that made WangJi leave seclusion. The first words Wei Ying had spoken to him had all but faded on his forearm, leaving behind only a smattering of dots. It was all his fault. He should have pushed those words down as far as they could go, buried them deep where they couldn't hurt anyone, couldn't hurt Wei Ying.
It took everything he had to escape seclusion and go to the Burial Mounds. He could barely walk. The cuts on his back ached and he could feel fresh blood flowing from where some of them had split open again. He didn't care. He just had to find Wei Ying. He searched that desolate place and found no trace of him. But then he'd heard a cry coming from a hollow tree. There was A-Yuan, the boy Wei Ying had jokingly said he'd given birth to, just one of the many people he'd give his life to protect. He cradled the boy in his arms, and decided to keep him.
For thirteen years, people spoke of the Yiling Patriarch's sinister deeds. They talked about his cruelty, how he had killed without mercy, and tortured without remorse, how he only brought ruin to the YunmengJiang sect. That he had been an ungrateful boy, who spurned his considerable gifts, and chose to walk the narrow and forbidden path of demonic cultivation. His infamy grew and people kept blaming him for any bad thing that happened, despite the fact that he'd already left the world. If only they had the privilege of knowing him, WangJi thought, if only they could see what I saw in him. A boy who radiated sunshine, whose heart was too big and too full of good intentions. A boy who cared fiercely about protecting people, who would do anything and everything in his power to help, even if it meant making himself the most hated person in the cultivation world. But WangJi knew that none of it meant anything. Not when Jiang WanYin was out there dragging any cultivator associated with the dark arts back to Lotus Pier, all of them never seen or heard from again. WangJi wasn't arrogant enough to assume that he knew Wei Ying better than Jiang WanYin. Sect Leader Jiang had known all of this, had seen everything that WangJi saw in Wei Ying, and it hadn't been enough for forgiveness. He had denounced him and led the siege on the Burial Mounds himself. And so, WangJi kept quiet, content to keep playing Inquiry, to continue the search on his own.
It's wonderful to think that there's somebody out there who loves me. Or rather, will love me, I suppose.
Even if it was just one person, even if there was only one person in the world who loved Wei WuXian, even if that person was Lan WangJi, he fervently hoped that it would be enough to call Wei Ying's soul back.
For thirteen years, there was no response.
Until one day, a familiar song from a badly-played flute reached WangJi's ears. The sound was a tidal wave crashing on the shores of his heart, and thirteen years of grief and guilt had been swept away, leaving only reckless joy and wild hope. It was him. The flash of recognition was like lightning coursing through his veins. WangJi knew, without a doubt, that whoever was playing that flute was going to be Wei Ying. There was no one else it could be.
His heart was taking flight and he was running, running, running towards that song, before it disappeared before him again.
He grabbed hold of the person's wrist. It was Mo XuanYu. SiZhui and JingYi had told him earlier, how he had helped them with the demonic hand, probably saving them. Still all heart after everything that had happened. Still the person who saw people who needed help and didn't turn away no matter the risk or trouble it caused. Still the person Lan Wangji had loved, then lost. He wouldn't let go of him again.
"Lan Zhan, have you always had these moles on your forearm?"
"Mm."
They were in bed together, moonlight streaming through the window on the far side, a quiet, comfortable stillness around them. There was a gentle breeze wafting in, cooling the sweat on their skin after their everyday activities. There were no more misunderstandings between them. But, in all the chaos and mystery that had followed Wei Ying's return, he had entirely forgotten to tell Wei Ying about his mark. It had seemed inconsequential when Wei Ying had already confessed his love for him.
"It's Emperor's Smile. I'll give you a jar." He murmured.
"Huh?" Wei Ying was momentarily confused, but a second later his mouth opened in shock and he clapped a hand comically over it.
WangJi felt the corners of his mouth twitch.
"Was that the first thing I ever said to you?!" He yelled, too loudly for the night.
"Mm."
"I can't believe you had that tattooed on your arm since... You were right to call me shameless. But wait, that means..."
His hand brushed a spot on his chest. In his old body, that had been where his mark was.
"Zewu-Jun told me... He said that I told you to get out. That was when you said it, wasn't it?" He asked, brows knitted together, lips down-turned in a frown.
WangJi knew that Wei Ying didn't remember that time at all, the resentful energy had overwhelmed him by then. He didn't want Wei Ying to worry about something that was best forgotten. Gently, WangJi moved closer, and pressed a kiss between Wei Ying's brows, and another to his nose, then his lips.
"I died thinking I never found my soulmate. It was difficult to imagine anyone loving me the way that I was."
"Not difficult," WangJi said, though his heart twinged at the thought of Wei Ying having died lonely.
"Hahaha, Lan Zhan, you always say the sweetest things. That's why I like you so much!" The smile lingered on Wei Ying's lips and WangJi indulged the urge to kiss him again. Wei Ying's fingers were still tracing the moles on his skin.
"Doesn't this look familiar though?" He asked, turning his arm this way and that, his eyes lighting up the way it usually did when he was struck by inspiration.
He leaped from the bed and said "Wait a second" in a rush, coming back with a brush in hand, the tip already covered in ink.
He grabbed WangJi's forearm and started to draw parallel lines.
"You-!" WangJi tensed, but didn't pull his arm away, curiously watching and waiting for Wei Ying to explain.
"Ta-da! What do you see?"
His forearm now resembled a score of music. The dots that remained from the previous words were notes, flitting down then up the lines in a familiar pattern. A secret song played in a dimly lit cave, shared between two souls. He looked up at Wei Ying and saw that he had that smile on his face again, the one that could summon the sun. It was unbelievable, to be honest. WangJi didn't know it was possible to love someone this much, and he didn't know it was possible to feel this happy. Wei Ying may have just solved an age-old mystery of why Lan An's cultivation partner had appeared to be unmarked or they could just be seeing what they want to see. But WangJi wanted to believe. He wanted to believe that his soul was tied to Wei Ying's. That his mark would remain on his skin forevermore, as a reminder, as a promise, that even if he would lose Wei Ying again, they would keep finding one another.
In front of this boy who was his soulmate, a boy who lit up the darkness like he was his own personal sun, WangJi could only smile fondly in return.