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Lan Jingyi came back running this time, ignoring all the rules of his sect, not even afraid of any punishment, panic driving him to run faster.
“Hanguang-Jun! Senior Wei!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, rushing past the others who threw him both annoyed and worried glances, but he saw none of them.
As the Cloud Recesses were generally a place of quiet and tranquility, Jingyi’s voice was clearly audible even from a great distance, and it was no surprise that Lan Wangji stood before Jingyi moments later, Wei Wuxian close behind him.
“What is the matter, Jingyi?” Lan Wangji asked calmly, not even blinking as the junior disciple clutched his outer robe, tugging him forward.
“It’s Sizhui! He took Sizhui!” Jingyi sobbed, “We fought him, but he was too strong, I wasn’t fast enough! Forgive me…!” he wept, crumbling to the ground, only held up by Wei Wuxian who pulled him close and looked him in the eyes with panicked urgency in his eyes.
“Where, Jingyi? Where were you? Where did he take Sizhui?!” he asked, his voice so commanding that Jingyi forgot to sob; compelled to answer immediately.
As soon as the boy had spoken, and both senior cultivators recognized the name of the village, they shared a look and without another word Lan Wangji unsheathed Bichen, stepping onto the blade. With one arm he held Wei Wuxian’s waist and with the other he held Jingyi, who still clung to Wei Wuxian.
Before long the trio arrived by the village and Jingyi - who had pulled himself together at last - directed them to the exact spot where he had last seen Sizhui.
Droplets of blood littered the ground along with traces of ash from burnt out talismans. It was clear that a fight had occurred here.
Wei Wuxian crouched down and picked up some of the ash, reaching out with his senses to pick up the slightest trace of spiritual energy residue.
“It’s… demonic cultivation!” he gasped moments later, standing up and looking around for more hints.
“I thought it might be… It all went so fast… and nothing Sizhui did was effective at all!” Lan Jingyi murmured uncertainly.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said softly to get his attention and asked: “What purpose could someone who uses demonic cultivation have with our Sizhui?”
Wei Wuxian looked at his husband and shook his head.
“Many things… Make into a fierce corpse, make into a living corpse, make into a sacrifice…”
Lan Jingyi pulled at his hair, “Nooo!”
He shuddered to imagine what horrible things could be happening right now to his best friend, and all because he hadn’t fought well enough to protect him…
Wei Wuxian turned to the junior disciple and grabbed his shoulders.
“Jingyi-er, you must try to remember as much as you can! Who was the person who took Sizhui? What direction did they go?” he asked urgently.
Jingyi held his head in his hands and tried his best to remember anything.
“It was… a grown man… much taller than me or Sizhui… He looked like he came from an unknown sect, I couldn’t make out an emblem or anything… He had a crazed look in his eyes…”
Wei Wuxian nodded, “I see. In which direction did he take Sizhui?”
Jingyi, “This way. He went up the mountain, I think!”
“You were here to investigate an attack from a bunch of low level corpses, isn’t that right?” Lan Wangji said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
Jingyi nodded.
Lan Wangji, “Did you find those corpses?”
“Yes, and we fought them off successfully, but when we were almost finished one of the corpses was revealed to have been that person who took Sizhui away!” Jingyi whimpered, remembering painfully just how frightened his friend had been.
Wei Wuxian gasped, “So it was a trap! It struck me that the timing was so well planned too… considering that Wen Ning is currently at the Burial Mounds, commemorating the loss of his family…”
Lan Wangji nodded, “Indeed. The culprit seemed to be familiar with the Lan sect’s fighting style, and was also aware of the timing that would leave his target most vulnerable,” he summarized, and Wei Wuxian added, “and seeing as he knew that our Sizhui wasn’t as well protected, he also knew that he wouldn’t be sent out to investigate anything more dangerous than just some low level corpses…”
Finding little more evidence the trio rushed up the mountain in hopes of finding more clues there.
As they searched the woods at the base of the mountain, they found the strings of a guqin, scattered along a path where someone had walked through. They were the strings from Sizhui’s guqin, which he had secretly taken off of the instrument and dropped as he was carried away to leave a trail, hoping to be found.
What’s more, he didn’t drop them randomly. Lan Wangji noticed that he had dropped the strings in a specific order, rather than from first to last on the instrument.
He understood that Sizhui was referencing the Qin language used in techniques such as Inquiry or Evocation, and he spelled out something.
The further they went, the clearer it got.
Moling Su.
As soon as it was clear the trio rushed off to the territory of the former Moling Su sect.
What they found were the pitiful remnants of a pitiful sect. With their reputation destroyed, only few sect members stayed loyal to the Moling Su sect, vainly attempting to clear the name of the sect which Su She had tarnished so completely.
The three of them were greeted by hostility and Lan Wangji didn’t hesitate to subdue them.
The few people opposing him were fighting in a desperate manner, reminiscent of how a cornered animal lashes out in it’s panic.
They were no match for him, and so while he was fighting Wei Wuxian and Lan Jingyi went ahead to find Lan Sizhui.
Locked up in a dark cellar that was only lit by a few torches, Lan Sizhui had no idea that rescue was on the way. He looked awful; his pristine Lan sect robes were torn up, burnt and stained in places, his hair falling loosely all over his face and shoulders, and worst of all… his forehead band had been taken from him.
His kidnapper and their accomplice had dangled it in front of his face before stepping on it, tearing it and lastly burning it.
Lan Sizhui felt like he had failed so bad, like he was such a disappointment to his… to Hanguang-Jun and Senior Wei. He hadn’t been able to fight his way out, his sword out of his reach, his arms and legs bound by chains and his spiritual energy blocked.
As his kidnappers taunted him he thought he finally understood just how Wei Wuxian had once been pushed so far, back in the past, because even though he shuddered to imagine the consequences, he longed for power.
He wished he could call upon something, anything… even if it was resentful energy to free himself and fight his way out of there!
Alas, he had no way of doing so.
“It’s all because of those cutsleeves that you are here now. If you want to blame anyone, resent anyone… blame and resent them!” a woman said to him, tugging on his hair as she spat in his face.
“If not for them, my husband would still be here!” she shrieked, when suddenly the fires flickered as a breeze swept through the dungeon. She looked around and let go of Lan Sizhui’s hair, walking over to the man who had taken him away.
“What are you doing over there!? Is the array still not ready?!” she asked, and he muttered something in response, when the fires flickered again.
“Stop doing that!” the woman spat, but the man shook his head and said that it wasn’t his doing.
She was about to berate him when the crimson glow of the fire turned into a sickly shade of green.
The cellar door was kicked open and the gust of wind that came from it blew out all but one torch.
“So, so,” a quiet voice said, and a shadowy figure walked into the dingy cellar, “who would have thought that people still do this kind of stupid stuff…”
Lan Sizhui’s sight was blurred by tears, but he still recognized the silhouette, and even though his blood was rushing in his ears he knew this voice by heart.
“Senior Wei!” he gasped in utter relief, but the man in question didn’t respond.
He was too angry, too filled with hatred to dare look at his son right now. He stepped up closer to the two kidnappers and raised his hand.
“Sizhui-er, you better close your eyes,” he said calmly, waiting a brief moment before curling his fingers into a fist.
As though an invisible force had grabbed the man’s neck he writhed and gasped for air, but couldn’t get any.
Finally the woman had overcome her shock and she rushed towards Sizhui with a dagger, shrieking.
“LET MY BROTHER GO! You have taken away more than enough from me, you monster!” she screamed as she pressed the dagger to Sizhui’s neck with a trembling hand.
Sizhui held his breath. He neither dared to make a sound, nor open his eyes, so he sat still where he was held.
“Oh?” Wei Wuxian said lowly, without releasing his hand at all. “What have I taken from you, hm? I have never seen you in my life.”
“My husband! My dearest Su She!” the woman wept, “It is only fair that I take something from you in return!”
Wei Wuxian, “Su She?” He chuckled joylessly, “Do you realize what your husband has taken from me? From so many people in fact?”
Su She’s wife screamed so loudly, it hurt Sizhui’s ears, “I DON’T CARE!”
Wei Wuxian tightened his hand a bit, causing her brother to gargle desperately as his face turned purple.
“Take the dagger away from his neck and I will spare your brother’s life, even though I really shouldn’t,” Wei Wuxian demanded, and the sight of her brother caused Su She’s wife to drop the dagger and throw herself at Wei Wuxian’s feet instead.
“Please!” she wept, “Yiling Patriarch, let my brother go! I told him to seek out this disciple, I told him to find my husband’s old notes… I told him to do all these things!”
Wei Wuxian finally opened his hand and as though a noose had been cut loose the man fell to his knees gasping for air, choking and coughing.
“Why?” Wei Wuxian asked the woman, who wept beneath him. “Certainly you knew of your husband’s actions… yet you still seek to avenge his death. Not just that, you seek to use the same methods that ultimately caused his death.”
She looked up at him with something akin to genuine torment in her eyes and answered, “Because he was a kind husband nonetheless. He never forced himself on me, he never held me against my will…” She trembled and hugged herself as she remembered him, “Others called him cowardly… I found him to be kind… others called him cunning… I found him to be witty…” she explained.
Wei Wuxian found it hard to believe that she and him were referring to the same Su She, but then he had to admit that likely she wasn’t wrong in her belief.
He stepped away from her.
“You may not want to hear it from me, but let me tell you that no amount of hatred will ever quench the pain in your heart. I once sought solace in destruction and I lost everything because of it. Don’t go down the path that took my life, because unlike me, there likely won’t be anyone to bring you back once you are gone,” he said quietly.
Lan Sizhui shuddered, hearing those words even though they weren’t meant for him.
He had long known that Senior Wei held a dangerous darkness within himself, but somehow he had never feared that darkness. Even as a child, he hadn’t feared the man who struck terror into the hearts of so many.
Maybe it was childish naivete, maybe it was wishful thinking that this person would never hurt him… whatever it was, it felt strange now.
“Leave.” Wei Wuxian commanded and the siblings scrambled out the door, weeping and screaming in horror and relief to have been granted another chance after all.
Finally Wei Wuxian turned to face Sizhui and the green flames turned back to their usual warmth, making Wei Wuxian’s pale face look soft and gentle, rather than creepy and menacing.
“Sizhui-er,” Wei Wuxian said softly, moving to take off the chains that bound the young disciple. Sizhui looked at him with quivering eyes, but couldn’t bear it and lowered his gaze after a few moments. He hadn’t been able to save himself, needing to be rescued by Wei Wuxian once again…
Wei Wuxian undid all the chains at last and reached up to stroke Sizhui’s hair back, noticing the lack of his forehead band. He looked around and saw the greyish pile of ash that only vaguely resembled a ribbon at this point and sighed softly.
He undid his own hairband and tied it around Sizhui’s forehead as though it was a forehead ribbon before cradling the youth’s cheek in his hand.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, before shaking his head and sweeping Sizhui up in his arms regardless of his answer.
Sizhui sputtered and flailed in shock until Wei Wuxian shushed him.
“Let a parent take care of his son, will you?” he said and adjusted his grip on Sizhui’s thighs and shoulders. “Hanguang-Jun is still upstairs, so you have a few moments to let it all out where he can’t see or hear you,” he added after a few steps and looked into Sizhui’s eyes.
At first the boy tried to stay strong and keep his facade up as much as he could, but soon he crumbled and hid his face in the crook of Wei Wuxian’s neck.
He cried without making a sound. His shoulders trembled and his breath hitched every now and then, but if Wei Wuxian hadn’t felt the tears against his skin he wouldn’t have been sure if he truly was crying.
He sighed as he ascended the stairs with the crying youth in his arms.
“I remember you cried so loudly as a child… sometimes you woke up at night and cried until someone came to comfort you… sometimes I played a song on Chenqing for you…” he said fondly. “Maybe I should play something for you again, hm? A-Yuan?”
Sizhui laughed despite himself and clung even tighter to Wei Wuxian’s neck.
Wei Wuxian let out a quiet sigh of relief. The boy hadn’t lost his laughter, so there was hope that this ordeal would one day be little more than a memory.
He carried him all the way up the stairs, and by now Sizhui’s tears had fully dried up, and he almost looked like himself again - well, except for the crimson ribbon around his forehead, untied hair and dirtied robes.
At the top of the stairs was Lan Jingyi who called out Sizhui’s name with pure euphoria as soon as he saw him.
Wei Wuxian had told him to wait there and look out for dangers, but deep down Lan Jingyi knew, that Wei Wuxian didn’t want him to see whatever he would have done to the culprits if Sizhui hadn’t been okay.
Outside the building Lan Wangji was interrogating the two kidnappers who had hoped to escape after Wei Wuxian had shown them mercy, but obviously Wei Wuxian had known that Lan Wangji would prevent them from getting away unpunished.
Sizhui was afraid to face Lan Wangji, still beating himself up over his failure, no matter how many times Wei Wuxian had assured him.
Lan Wangji on the other hand wasn’t sure how to express his utter relief and joy at seeing his son alive and well, so he just reached over to straighten the crimson ribbon over his forehead, acting as though it was no less precious than the original forehead band.
That night, when they all came back to the Cloud Recesses, Wei Wuxian guided Sizhui to the Jingshi.
The boy wanted to argue and protest, afraid that Lan Wangji would disapprove, but calmed down when the latter joined them.
Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji tended to Lan Yuan’s injuries, helped him clean away all the filth and lastly clothed him in clean robes. Now that he didn’t need Wei Wuxian’s ribbon anymore, replacing it with a proper headband, Sizhui handed back the ribbon.
“Thank you, Senior Wei,” he said quietly, placing the ribbon in Wei Wuxian’s hands.
He then turned to look at Lan Wangji and bowed his head, “Thank you, Hanguang-Jun,” he said to him too.
At this point Wei Wuxian couldn’t endure the stiffness and formality any more, and he pulled both men into his arms; and even though both were surprised, neither one tried to pull away from the embrace, instead reaching out to hold on tightly.
They stayed together through the night, and deep in his heart, as he was held by both Wei Wuxian and Hanguang-Jun in their sleep, Lan Yuan felt loved.