Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When news reaches Yunmeng that Wei Wuxian has been taken back to Gusu and is set to marry the esteemed Second Young Master Lan, Jiang Cheng throws a fit.

How dare they arrange a marriage without asking for Wei Wuxian’s Sect Leader’s permission? Without asking for Jiang Cheng’s approval? He was head of house now, in charge of Jiang sect matters, how dare they not approach him first?

Wasn’t GusuLan supposed to be so virtuous, so righteous, always polite and upstanding and never rude? This was beyond rude! It was- it was an insult! How dare they-

(The thought does not occur to Jiang Cheng that no matter that Wei Wuxian was still on the Jiang sect registry- he had not been living with YunmengJiang for more than a year now, and most of the cultivational world already regarded him as separate from YunmengJiang.)

Jiang Cheng is enraged. This was his damned brother they were taking in marriage, how could they expect Wei Wuxian to get married with no family to give him away? No family to pay his dowry, no bridal entourage to torture the groom, to make sure he cared enough for Wei Wuxian to sit through whatever tasks they had for him-

How dare they?

A-Jie looks conflicted by the news. She is equally upset that no one had told them about the wedding, Jiang Cheng thinks. She is upset that she had to hear about their brother’s upcoming wedding from gossip on the street, instead of from Wei Wuxian himself. She is upset, Jiang Cheng can tell.

But there is also a kind of quiet joy in her eyes, and Jiang Cheng does not understand. Does she want to give away their brother so eagerly? Does she not want Wei Wuxian to belong to YunmengJiang any longer?

But A-Jie does not share, and Jiang Cheng does not ask.

Instead, she tags along when Jiang Cheng makes the journey to Gusu, when Jiang Cheng marches up to the front gates of the Cloud Recesses and makes such a racket that GusuLan is forced to let him in, no matter that he is Sect Leader of YunmengJiang and they would have let him in anyway. But he yells, and threatens, and lets it show how Zidian is throwing up sparks around his finger, until Sect Leader Lan himself comes to the gates.

Perhaps it is a good thing that Lan Xichen is a beta, because Jiang Cheng is throwing off enough furious pheromones to pose challenge and enrage any other alpha, and it would have been hard for an omega to bury their instinctual fear of him.

(Unless that omega was Wei Wuxian, of course. He had never been intimidated by Jiang Cheng, no matter that Jiang Cheng was both an alpha and his Sect Leader.)

As it is, Lan Xichen simply bows in greeting, trademark smile already in place. ‘Sect Leader Jiang, Young Madame Jin, what brings you to the Cloud Recesses?”

"You know why the fuck we're here," Jiang Cheng fumes, glaring. "Where the fuck is Wei Wuxian?"

Lan Xichen blinks. "Ah, Young Master Wei is with Wangji. He wished to go down to Caiyi town, so Wangji offered to bring him-"

"What the fuck?" Jiang Cheng snarls, irrationally upset. "You let an unmated alpha and omega out together, alone?"

"I assure Sect Leader Jiang, they are not alone," Lan Xichen says. "Even if they were, Wangji would not do anything untoward-"

Jiang Cheng growls, low and threatening, and to any other person it would have been an immediate challenge, a call to anger.

To Lan Xichen, who is, as everyone says, equipped with the patience of a saint, it simply makes him tilt his head, his smile gaining a slightly confused edge.

"If Sect Leader Jiang is truly worried," Lan Xichen begins. "Caiyi town is densely populated, there will not be anything ami-"

"I don't fucking care about that fucking bullshit!" Jiang Cheng snaps, and the anger rages in him completely unchecked. "I care that GusuLan let a soon-to-be-married couple out in public unchaperoned, where everyone can see them and besmirch their name- can judge them for something that they wouldn't do- I care that you fucking took my brother and that you're going to marry him into your clan without my permission!"

The other Sect Leader looks stunned, for the barest moment, as if he hadn't expected Jiang Cheng's outburst.

"A-Cheng," his sister starts, and for once her voice only brings his anger down a notch, instead of dissipating completely.

"Is that truly Sect Leader Jiang's opinion?" A voice comes, and Jiang Cheng startles. That is not Lan Xichen's voice. It is a woman's voice, harsh and judgemental, and Jiang Cheng stares as a young woman probably around A-Jie's age comes to stand beside Lan Xichen.

The woman is in white GusuLan robes, but she does not have the trademark forehead ribbon of a disciple, neither does she have the calm countenance usually found in GusuLan disciples.

The woman turns to Lan Xichen then, and bows. "My apologies for the interruption and lack of greeting, Sect Leader. Wei Qing greets Sect Leader Lan."

Turning to Jiang Cheng and A-Jie, the woman bows again, to him and his sister. "Greetings to Sect Leader Jiang and Young Madame Jin."

Was it just him, or was her bow far shallower to him than it had been for Lan Xichen and A-Jie?

"Sect Leader," the woman -Wei Qing? Jiang Cheng had never heard of anyone else sharing his brother's surname, but perhaps it was simply a similar sounding word- says, addressing Lan Xichen. "This one requests permission to speak her mind."

Lan Xichen laughs a little, soft and almost inaudible. "You do not need my permission to share your opinion, Maiden Wei."

Wei Qing nods, and the longer Jiang Cheng looks at her, the more familiar she seems. It is more her voice than her looks, but nonetheless it feels like he should know her from somewhere.

But then she turns to him, and all thoughts of familiarity fly out of his mind, because there is a fury in her gaze that matches his own.

"Sect Leader Jiang," she says, voice low, too sharp to convey the respect that her words should have. "Do you truly believe that you still hold claim to Wei Wuxian?"

"You-" Jiang Cheng forces out through gritted teeth, and the shock of the statement lances through him, at odds with the anger that races through his veins.

"You," Wei Qing says, raising her voice over his, cutting off his words before they can even fall from his lips. "You, who left him alone on Burial Mounds, left him to rot, and never visited, never checked in on him, never saw that he was doing far worse than anyone should. You stabbed him in the stomach and walked away, never turned around to see him bleeding out on the ground. You didn't see the way his skin clung to his bones, didn't see the way bruises gathered under his eyes. Do you really think you still hold claim over him? Do you?"

Cold shock washes through him, down his spine like ice, and Jiang Cheng cannot help the way his anger freezes in his chest, gone cold and still. It is suddenly too cold here, like his golden core has stopped protecting him from the chill of the Cloud Recesses, but Jiang Cheng only has room to think about Wei Qing's words.

How did she know about the Burial Mounds?

And had things truly been that bad?

They couldn't have been. They couldn't have been, Jiang Cheng would have noticed. He would have. If Wei Wuxian had been different, had become skinnier, unhealthily so, if he hadn't been getting enough sleep, if he'd been working himself to the bone with no rest…

Jiang Cheng would have noticed.

Wouldn't he?

You wrote every change off as resentful energy, a malicious little voice in the back of his mind whispers. You saw his skin paling, saw his gaze losing its light, and you said it was just the demonic cultivation.

No. No, he couldn't have…

You weren't even around enough to see anything, the voice continues, low and mocking. You've only been to Yiling once, after all.

“I couldn’t-” Jiang Cheng says, and his words sound hollow even to his own ears. “I can’t- he asked me to-”

A sob catches in his throat, and his sentences fragment, and Jiang Cheng focuses on the sparks Zidian is throwing off, trying his best not to let tears fall. He couldn’t- Wei Wuxian had-

“What could I have done?” He asks, and his voice is barely a whisper. “He said it with such conviction- he told me to- I had to strike him from the sect registry, he said, if not the other sects would bring war to YunmengJiang’s doorstep… He was right, you know, I knew how much they didn’t like it that I had an ace like him up my sleeve.”

A-Jie’s hand is warm on his back, and her arms are gentle around him, and no matter that he is now a head taller than her- her hugs still feel like they could shield him from the world. He buries his face in her shoulder, like he is still a child, and tries to pretend the way his eyes burn isn’t tears.

“I didn’t do it,” Jiang Cheng mumbles into his sister’s robes. “I couldn’t- he was- I’ve been waiting for him- can’t-”

“I-” the voice comes, low and guilty, and Jiang Cheng looks up only to meet Wei Qing’s eyes. “I apologise, Sect Leader Jiang. I… did not mean to cause distress, I suppose I may have been too quick to judge.”

Jiang Cheng swipes at his eyes, and tries to regain his composure. The guilt still eats at him, still gnaws like a ravenous beast, chewing mercilessly, but at least Jiang Cheng has had experience with this. Give him a little time, and he can suppress it. It doesn’t matter now that both Lan Xichen and Wei Qing have seen him- it is too late to take it back, and Jiang Cheng can only pray that they will let this incident lie.

The tears still want to flow, Jiang Cheng can tell. The backs of his eyes are still burning, and he knows his eyes are swollen and red, but Wei Qing has reminded him that he is not alone here, that he is not at Lotus Pier, not in private. He is out in the open, with an audience, at the gates of GusuLan. He cannot act like a child breaking down.

He is a Sect Leader, and he will carry himself with a Sect Leader’s dignity.

So he swallows the pain, and the hurt, and forces himself to stand. He had come here with a goal in mind, and it is time that he achieved it.

"As mentioned," Jiang Cheng says, falling into the courtesy drilled into him by Mother. Perhaps it is a blessing in disguise that Wei Qing had said the things she did, because now that the haze of anger has left him, Jiang Cheng will admit to himself that his thoughts are far clearer. "Wei Wuxian is still of the Jiang sect, of the Jiang clan, and we will see to it that he is married with the ceremony any child of our clan would receive. YunmengJiang will pay his dowry, and will house him until the time comes that the groom arrives to fetch him."

Lan Xichen nods. "Of course. GusuLan would not deny tradition by refusing."

Jiang Cheng feels a weight off his shoulders then, a relief that he did not know he had needed. “Many thanks, Se-”

“Chengcheng!” Wei Wuxian’s voice reaches Jiang Cheng scant moments before the man himself does, and Jiang Cheng barely has time to turn around before Wei Wuxian is throwing himself bodily at him. “Ahh, long time no see, Chengcheng, how has life been? And- Shijie! I haven’t seen you in forever, Shijie, I miss you! Xianxian wants Shijie’s lotus rib soup, Shijie, please?”

Jiang Cheng is far too stunned to really react to Wei Wuxian’s horrible nickname for him, and by the time he gathers himself it’s too late to address the name. Even then, his gaze is immediately caught by Lan Wangji instead, who looks as blank as usual, but his scent is just barely detectable, and Jiang Cheng knows the smell of a possessive alpha. It is no wonder, actually. Jiang Cheng knows that as an unmated alpha of high standing with no blood relation to Wei Wuxian, he poses a threat to Lan Wangji’s inner alpha, no matter that logically Lan Wangji knows that there is no romantic interest between them.

Still, even just the idea of knowing Wei Wuxian romantically sends shivers of disgust down Jiang Cheng’s spine, and he is just about to open his mouth to say so when two small heads peek out from behind Lan Wangji’s robes, and Jiang Cheng’s words stutter in his throat.

“Papa?” One of the boys asks, eyes wide as he stares at Jiang Cheng. “Papa, scary man, who?”

Lan Wangji smiles, actually fucking smiles, and pats the boy on the head. “A-Yuan, A-Li, greet Sect Leader Jiang.”

What the fuck did that kid just call Lan Wangji? When did Lan Wangji have a kid? Much less two? What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?

“Lan Yuan and Lan Zhenli greet Sect Leader Jiang,” the two boys chorus in unison, and Jiang Cheng is abruptly shaken by how much the boy on Lan Wangji’s right looks like Wei Wuxian had as a child.

Was it possible… no, there was no way, Jiang Cheng would have known, right? The boy’s age didn’t line up-

“Aunt Yanli!” The yell drags Jiang Cheng out of his thoughts, and he watches as the two boys run to hug A-Jie, and his sister laughs and ruffles both their fringes.

“A-Li, A-Yuan,” his sister greets, bending down to the children’s eye level. “I haven’t seen you two in ages, how have you been?”

How did his sister know Lan Wangji’s children, and why?

Still leaning against him, Wei Wuxian laughs, loud and bright, a laugh that Jiang Cheng hasn’t heard in years. Something in him eases at the sound, and no matter that the confusion is still coursing through his veins, Jiang Cheng appreciates it for having brought his brother back to him.

Then Wei Wuxian kneels too, gesturing at the two children who laugh gleefully and throw themselves into Wei Wuxian’s open arms.

“Chengcheng,” Wei Wuxian says, grinning up at him with his arms full of children. “Chengcheng, come say hi to your nephews, won’t you?”

Jiang Cheng’s brain fritzes out. What-

“Who the fuck is your goddamn Chengcheng, huh?” Jiang Cheng finds himself snapping out of pure reflex, but then he’s kneeling too, meeting the gazes of the two children. He finds a greeting slipping from his lips without conscious thought, and he watches as Wei Wuxian nudges the children toward him.

Jiang Cheng is still considering the pros and cons of having an armful of small, tiny children when A-Jie’s soft voice sounds.

“A-Cheng, you should watch your language around children,” she says, and Jiang Cheng feels his cheeks heat even as Wei Wuxian’s eyes widen and he bursts into laughter.

“Yeah! Yeah, Jiang Cheng, watch your language around my little buns, they’re impressionable, you know!”

Jiang Cheng blinks, hard, and runs the words through his mind once more. "Yours? When the fuck did you get pregnant?"

Wei Wuxian slaps a hand over Jiang Cheng’s mouth, and pouts. “We just told you to watch your language! Can you imagine what Old Man Qiren would say if his grandnephews grew up cursing like you? I’d get kicked out of the Cloud Recesses before you could even count to three!”

Jiang Cheng splutters, and yanks Wei Wuxian’s hand away from his face. “Don’t change the topic! When did you even get pregnant? Much less by Lan Wangji!”

Wei Wuxian, that bastard, has the audacity to wink.

“That’s for me to know,” he chirps, grinning. “And you to find out!”

Beside him, A-Jie laughs softly, a smile hidden behind a raised sleeve, before raising a hand to ruffle both of their fringes. “A-Xian, don’t tease A-Cheng so much. And A-Cheng, don’t be angry at A-Xian, you know he likes to tease!”

“...Okay, Shijie. For you! Anyway,” Wei Wuxian says, blinking as he scoops one of his sons up and deposits him neatly in Jiang Cheng’s arms, ignoring the way Jiang Cheng sputters in shock and fumbles to make sure he doesn’t drop the child on his head. “Why are you and Shijie here?”

The question reminds Jiang Cheng abruptly of the reason he'd come in the first place, and he scowls. "Why the fu- freak else? Because you decided to screw off and marry Lan Wangji without telling us, that's why! And now you're living with GusuLan while being betrothed to Lan Wangji? What happened to tradition, huh? You're not supposed to stay with your spouse until after the marriage, idiot!"

"But-"

"You're coming back to Lotus Pier and we're going to have a normal fu- freaking wedding, do you hear me? There's going to be actual robes and tea ceremonies and Lan Wangji will have to pick you up at an auspicious timing with your family's consent, like it's supposed to be!"

Wei Wuxian stares at him, eyes wide, and Jiang Cheng freezes when he sees the way they begin to water. His brother's gaze is fixed on him, eyes teary, and for a long moment no one moves as Jiang Cheng panics internally and everyone else is clearly trying to figure out what exactly happened.

Then Wei Wuxian throws himself at Jiang Cheng, sandwiching the child -that Jiang Cheng had almost forgotten that he was carrying- between them, and begins bawling into Jiang Cheng's shoulder.

The child in Jiang Cheng's arms begins flailing, patting pudgy hands against Wei Wuxian's hair, against his cheeks, and tugging lightly when that gives him no reaction. "Mama? Mama, no cry, Mama okay!"

The other child, the one that was still standing on the ground beside Wei Wuxian, scrambles closer to hug one of Wei Wuxian's legs, eyes wide as well. "Mama no cry! A-Yuan and A-Li here, Mama no cry!"

Lan Wangji edges closer, and even though his expression is blank, the way he reaches out for Wei Wuxian is telling. "...Wei Ying?"

Wei Wuxian trembles a little against Jiang Cheng, then pulls back to swipe at reddened eyes, offering Lan Wangji a shaky smile. "Ahh, Lan Zhan, I'm okay, I'm really okay-"

"Wei Ying is crying."

"Lan Zhan, ahh, don't worry, happy tears, alright? I'm happy, I really am, I thought-" Wei Wuxian babbles, gaze darting between Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng himself. His brother is blinking rapidly, and his eyes are still red-rimmed, but there is a smile on his face. "I thought- I thought YunmengJiang wouldn't ever welcome me again, you know? I was ready to get married to you without any of the usual ceremony, you know? None of the extravagant red robes, none of the gatecrashing or even the proper bows to family, because my family wouldn't be there anyway-"

It's Jiang Cheng's turn to stare. When had he ever told Wei Wuxian that he wouldn't be welcome in Lotus Pier? What had given him the impression that he could get married and Jiang Cheng wouldn't care? What had given him the impression that Jiang Cheng wouldn't turn up for his own damned brother's wedding?

"You're coming back to Lotus Pier with us," Jiang Cheng repeats after a long silence, and even Lan Wangji doesn't stop him when he grabs Wei Wuxian's arm to pull him closer. "The wedding matters have already been planned, I suppose? Has an auspicious hour been picked for the marriage?"

Lan Xichen blinks, and nods. "Of course. All matters have been settled, although with the addition of the bride's side of the family, and accounting for the travelling time between Gusu and Yunmeng, some changes will have to be made, and a separate timing will have to be picked for the bride's family's tea ceremony."

Jiang Cheng nods. "Many thanks to Sect Leader Lan for the planning and expenses, YunmengJiang will arrange for a consult for auspicious hours and will inform GusuLan. If the rumours are to be believed, the wedding is to be held next week, is it not?"

Lan Xichen inclines his head. "Yes, our planners have consulted for an auspicious date after accounting for the birthdays and zodiac, and the ceremony is to be held in ten days' time."

Jiang Cheng nods as well, and bows. "We shall take our leave then, Zewu-Jun. Many thanks for your help."

Beside him, Wei Wuxian lights up, throwing himself at Lan Wangji and grinning. "Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, come with me to Yunmeng, I can finally show you around like I offered to all those years ago!"

“Mn.”

It is only a few days later that Wei Qing shows up at Lotus Pier, a familiar fierce corpse in tow, and everything clicks. How Jiang Cheng had been blind enough not to notice that Wei Qing was Wen Qing, he would never know. Still, the fact that somehow Wei Wuxian clearly thought that these people were close enough to consider family, close enough for him to give his surname to-

It makes Jiang Cheng reconsider his stance on hating every Wen alive. Unbidden, the memory of the letter that Lan Xichen had sent him, barely a day before, resurfaces. The letter had told of what kind of conditions the people on Burial Mounds had been living in, had spoken of how there had been no army being raised, how Jin Guangshan had clearly been trying to manipulate the cultivation world in his favour. All the Wens had been old and weak, or young children, and Wen Qing had been the only exception. Jiang Cheng wonders if he had been to hasty to hate a group of people who had been too old, too frail, to have had anything to do with his clan's deaths.

The sight of Wen -or Wei now, he supposes- Qing turning up at the gates of Lotus Pier, bowing low in greeting, an apology already on her lips for the way they'd parted the last time, makes Jiang Cheng wonder why exactly he'd hated the thought of her so much.

The sight of Wei Wuxian's bright smile as he launches himself at the pair of siblings, pulling them into a tight hug, banishes the rest of the doubt that Jiang Cheng feels.

If his brother saw them as family… Jiang Cheng does not think he will ever be able to think as familiarly of them as Wei Wuxian does, but for his brother's sake, he can be civil, at the very least.

Besides, if they were Weis now, that just meant that Jiang Cheng would have more help in planning Wei Wuxian's wedding, and all the different tasks he would make Lan Wangji's entourage complete when they came to pick up Wei Wuxian.

Jiang Cheng is going to make sure that this gatecrashing would never be forgotten.

Chapter Text

Jiang Cheng had always known, to some extent, that Wei Wuxian would get married before him. Wei Wuxian was charming, after all, suave and handsome and good with his words, and Jiang Cheng had never met someone who Wei Wuxian had wanted to charm who hadn’t been taken in by him.

(In the past, he had thought that Lan Wangji was the exception to that rule, but now he knows that Lan Wangji was in fact the worst of them all.)

So preparing Wei Wuxian’s dowry was simple, really. So was planning out all the tasks he would have Lan Wangji and his groomsmen complete before they were allowed to see Wei Wuxian, and Jiang Cheng delights in the knowledge that no matter how horrible of a task he planned for Lan Wangji, A-Jie would always have an even worse one.

Of course, it doesn’t help matters that Lan Wangji is at Lotus Pier almost every single day, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Lan Wangji always brought the children with him, and that Wei Wuxian moped every time he was gone, Jiang Cheng would have long banned the other alpha from coming to Lotus Pier so close to the ceremony itself.

Anyway, Jiang Cheng is far too busy planning ways to torture Lan Wangji to truly care that much about how much time the betrothed couple spent around each other. Jiang Cheng admits that he may be taking too much fun in this, but truly, this is most likely the last time he gets to plan a gatecrashing, seeing as he doesn’t have any siblings left to marry off. He’s still a little annoyed that the first time he did this he didn’t torture Jin Zixuan enough- throwing the key to A-Jie’s room into a lake was definitely not painful enough for that peacock, although Jiang Cheng takes pride in the fact that Jin Zixuan’s teeth had chattered for an entire minute after he’d resurfaced. It really was convenient, that they’d gotten married just at the start of spring, when the waters hadn't yet begun to warm.

But still, he could definitely do better.

By the time the day of the ceremony itself is upon them, Jiang Cheng has already decided that he’s content to leave most of the torturing to A-Jie, although A-Jie has kindly left him the task of preparing the sour sweet bitter spicy foods for the groom to consume.

Jiang Cheng cannot stop the grin that spreads across his lips when he thinks of it. Although the bitter is probably not going to be much of a challenge to anyone from GusuLan, Jiang Cheng has some hopes still, because Wei Qing had proven herself adept at identifying harmless but ridiculously bitter herbs, and when Jiang Cheng had tasted just a sip of the horrendous concoction after Wei Qing had been done with it…

Well, the taste had lingered on his tongue for hours after, and had been so bitter that Jiang Cheng's entire mouth had felt like it would rather burn itself insensate than taste it once more.

Jiang Cheng himself is in charge of the spice, which is a blessing, because he knows how bad GusuLan people are with spicy foods, and he cannot wait to see the look on Lan Wangji's face. He grins, and tosses more ground up, dried small chillies into the pot.

Some more chilli oil wouldn't be amiss as well.

The sour concoction is a mixture of vinegar and lemon juice, and although it isn't particularly creative, Jiang Cheng cannot say that he is displeased with the results.

A-Jie and Wen -Wei?- Ning have planned their own separate tasks for the groom and his entourage, and although Jiang Cheng wonders if the fierce corpse is ruthless enough to truly come up with something torturous, he has complete faith in A-Jie's abilities.

So when the GusuLan entourage arrives, Lan Wangji resplendent in red and stepping off Bichen, completely unruffled, Jiang Cheng can only hope that their tasks will be enough to mess up the untouchable Second Jade for once.

Lan Wangji looks more human in red than his usual white robes, but at the same time he is ridiculously good-looking, although Jiang Cheng isn’t complaining. It’s good to see that GusuLan is taking this ceremony as seriously as YunmengJiang is, and it’s clear that no expense has been spared in the making of Lan Wangji’s wedding robes. The red is rich and bright, falling with the weightiness that only high quality silk possesses. The fabric itself is embroidered almost entirely in panels upon panels of images, dragons and phoenixes and clouds, and Jiang Cheng even catches a glimpse of what appears to be lotuses, almost hidden by the sash around Lan Wangji’s waist.

He has his hair in an even more elaborate updo than he usually wears, held in place by a crown more intricate than his usual one, gold instead of silver, and made to resemble drifting clouds.

Jiang Cheng feels abruptly relieved that they'd spent almost an entire day getting Wei Wuxian ready, relieved that his brother parallels Lan Wangji in terms of looks, relieved that his brother will not be outshone by his own husband on his wedding day.

(Not that Wei Wuxian would mind, of course, given how much he gushed about Lan Wangji's looks to begin with.)

By Lan Wangji’s side are Jiang Cheng’s two nephews, dressed identically in formal red robes. Their robes are far less elaborate than their father’s own, but nonetheless more than suited for the occasion. Jiang Cheng can already hear Wei Wuxian cooing over his “adorable little babies”.

What he’d ever done to deserve such an embarrassing brother, Jiang Cheng would never know.

Behind Han Guang-Jun is Lan Xichen, who smiles in greeting and inclines his head. "Sect Leader Jiang. Maiden Wei, Young Madame Jin."

"Sect Leader Lan," Jiang Cheng acknowledges. "Punctual as ever, as expected of the esteemed Zewu-Jun and Han Guang-Jun."

Lan Wangji bows in greeting as well, and the two children follow his example, both smiling wide enough that Jiang Cheng cannot help but offer them the smallest twitch of his lips in return. Zhenli really does look remarkably like Wei Wuxian had, albeit younger than even Jiang Cheng had ever seen him. Still, that smiling face set in a small body that was clearly still recovering from malnourishment was too familiar a sight, and Jiang Cheng swears to himself, right then and there, that his nephews will never know the fear that their mother had.

"Second Young Master Lan. A-Li, A-Yuan. Follow me-"

"Wait," and that's Wei Qing, who holds up a hand to halt Lan Wangji in his tracks. "Not that Sect Leader Jiang is in any particular need of it, but it is tradition. A red envelope for entry to the bride's home."

Lan Wangji blinks, and then nods, reaching into his sleeve. He draws out a customary red envelope, already containing the necessary bribe, and passes it over.

Wei Qing nods, and lets Jiang Cheng take over, leading Lan Wangji deeper into Lotus Pier.

The first task, as is customary, is Jiang Cheng's and Wei Qing's- the sour sweet bitter spicy task.

Jiang Cheng has already laid out the four cups on the table, and honestly, it really is quite self-explanatory. He’s certain he doesn't have to explain the challenge, or the fact that it is definitely made to cause just a little bit of suffering- okay, maybe more than a little bit. His brother deserved only the best, which definitely includes a husband who will put up with the family’s absolute nonsense. Besides, if Lan Wangji couldn’t handle what Jiang Cheng deemed spicy, he would never survive in a marriage to Wei Wuxian.

(He also may or may not have a bet running on whether Lan Wangji will choke on the spicy cup, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Lan Wangji is already reaching for one of the cups, and Jiang Cheng looks on as he picks up the lemon juice and vinegar concoction. Before Jiang Cheng can even blink, Lan Wangji is already downing the mixture, not even the slightest twitch of his expression as he throws back the mixture in a single swallow.

Jiang Cheng sighs. What had he expected, really? This was Lan Wangji, who had literally been expressionless even when being hit with the punishment ruler a hundred times when they were still at the tender age of fifteen.

Lan Wangji has already progressed on to the bitter cup, which he drinks without blinking, and Jiang Cheng can see the expression on Wei Qing’s face, a stunned mixture of disappointment and admiration. Really, Jiang Cheng himself is rather impressed. He knew firsthand how horrible that bitter mixture had been, but Lan Wangji truly did live up to his stoic reputation.

(Either that, or the GusuLan food is truly that horrible. Really, Jiang Cheng wouldn't be surprised if Lan Wangji was already used to that level of bitterness.)

The spicy cup is next, and this one Jiang Cheng is rather looking forward to. He knows, as everyone does, just how weak GusuLan’s disciples are to spice, so he has hopes that this will be the cup to draw a reaction from Lan Wangji, at the very least.

Lan Wangji pauses when he picks up the cup, swirling the cup lightly and watching as the chilli oil on the surface shifts with the motion, and Jiang Cheng cannot help the smug grin that begins to twitch at his lips.

Hesitation is a beautiful sight.

But then Lan Wangji raises the cup to his lips, and downs it just as swiftly as he had the others. The only visible reaction to the spice is the slight redness to Lan Wangji's lips, which is not really a reaction at all.

Then Lan Wangji places the cup back down on the table, and hums softly, almost inaudible. “Wei Ying’s is still worse.”

Jiang Cheng hides his surprised sputter in a cough, and hopes that no one notices.

There is only one cup left now, arguably the least torturous of the lot, and Jiang Cheng wonders what is going through Lan Wangji’s mind as he picks up the sweet cup. Lan Wangji could have called on his entourage at any point to assist him in the task, although seeing as his entourage consisted of no one other than Lan Xichen and his two sons, Jiang Cheng can understand why he’d completed the tasks by himself instead.

The last cup itself contains pure honey, as sweet as Jiang Cheng could find, undiluted and viscous. Lan Wangji has been looking at it in consideration for a long while now, and Jiang Cheng watches, almost fascinated, as Lan Wangji takes the smallest sip of it before tilting his head to the side in contemplation.

Then he bends down, and passes the cup to A-Yuan.

“Share it with A-Li,” Lan Wangji says, patting the boy’s head fondly. “You will like it.”

Jiang Cheng starts. You weren’t supposed to enjoy a gatecrashing task-

But he cannot begrudge them for the way the children’s eyes light up, the way A-Yuan licks tentatively at the cup before a smile spreads across his cheeks and he shoves the cup at his brother with an excited, “A-Li, try!”

Jiang Cheng will not admit it out loud, but the sight of the two children giggling excitedly between themselves and passing the cup back and forth is adorable.

Then A-Jie, from where she stands behind him, cradling a sleeping Jin Ling in her arms, smiles softly at the two boys before turning to face Lan Wangji. “Onto the next task, then! Second Young Master Lan, if you wouldn’t mind holding A-Ling while I get it prepared?”

Then A-Jie smiles, a little too purposeful, and settles Jin Ling into Lan Wangji’s startled hold. “Be careful, he’s been particularly fussy this week.”

You better not make him cry, is what goes unspoken, but Jiang Cheng is fairly certain that Lan Wangji has picked up on the silent challenge.

When Jiang Yanli places her son in Wangji's arms, Wangji does not have time to do more than hurriedly shift his grip so that the child will be comfortable.

He is grateful that two months with his children have already taught him this much, at least.

Jin Ling is far smaller than his sons, though. The child is not even a year old, and Wangji finds that he can easily cradle him with a single arm, although that is probably not advised.

(He wonders if Zhenli had been this small, when he had been this age. The idea of Wei Wuxian cradling their son like Wangji is cradling Jin Ling now sends his heart pounding in his chest, clenching at the thought.)

Still, he does not have much experience with children, even counting his own, and he prays that Jin Ling will not cry. Jiang Yanli had been very clear about that, and he is fairly certain that even if she had not explicitly stated it, this is still a part of her task for the gatecrashing. After all, there were far better people that she could have passed her son to if it had truly been just the need to leave him with someone else for the time being. The child's father himself was in the room, after all, and even if he hadn’t been, Jiang Yanli’s own brother was.

But Jin Ling was passed to him, almost definitely as part of an unspoken task, and Lan Wangji will not do anything that could possibly affect his and Wei Ying's wedding.

So when Jin Ling begins to fidget in his hold, little face scrunching up a little and his fists beginning to fight their way out of the blanket that he is swaddled in, Wangji thinks that he’s probably justified in the way panic begins to rise in him. He begins rocking Jin Ling back and forth, praying that the child will calm down, but he is clearly uncomfortable, in the arms of a stranger, and no matter that Wangji has two children of his own- he is unaccustomed to soothing a fussy infant.

Maybe- maybe a song? A-Li and A-Yuan liked it when he sung to them, especially when they were going to bed and he would tuck them in.

He begins humming lowly, shifting Jin Ling in his arms so that the child is better supported, and runs a gentle knuckle over his cheek.

Miraculously, Jin Ling calms, blinking wide eyes at him and reaching up with one chubby hand, little fingers opening and closing slowly. Wangji blinks, and ducks his head to let Jin Ling close his hand around a lock of hair, the child gurgling softly as he tugs lightly and gives Wangji a gummy grin.

There is a tug on his robe then, and Wangji looks down to meet A-Li’s gaze, his son peering up at him with wide, curious eyes. “Papa? Papa, who?”

Wangji crouches down and lets Zhenli peer down at Jin Ling, his eyes shining as he takes in Jin Ling’s tiny form. “This is your cousin, Jin Ling. Your Aunt Yanli’s son.”

Lan Yuan peers over at Jin Ling too, eyes wide as Jin Ling lets go of Wangji’s hair to reach out towards A-Yuan instead.

“Aunt Yanli’s son?” A-Yuan echoes, blinking when Jin Ling curls tiny fingers around Lan Yuan’s own small finger.

Wangji nods, and cannot help but smile, ever so slightly, at the way A-Yuan and A-Li regard Jin Ling with awestruck eyes.

“Papa,” A-Li whispers. “A-Li has cousin!”

Beside him, A-Yuan shows Wangji the cup of honey, now almost half-gone, and blinks innocently. “A-Ling wants?”

Wangji shakes his head, and gently pushes Lan Yuan’s hand back. “Honey isn’t good for infants. But thank you for offering, A-Yuan.”

A-Yuan smiles too, and chirps a happy, “Okay, Papa,” before licking at the honey once more.

“I see they’re getting along well,” comes Jiang Yanli’s voice, and Wangji looks up to see said woman standing in front of him, smiling gently. “Thank you for holding him, Han Guang-Jun. I see you’ve done a good job.”

Wangji gently pries Jin Ling’s fingers from around Lan Yuan’s own and stands, nodding once before handing the child back to Jiang Yanli. “He is a beautiful child.”

Jiang Yanli smiles. “Thank you. Now, if you would follow me, your next task is right this way.”

Chapter Text

Wangji is led deeper into Lotus Pier, before they come to a stop right before the closed doors of what looks to be the residential quarters for YunmengJiang disciples. Jiang Yanli smiles, and opens the doors, ushering Wangji in.

The floor is covered in sheets of paper, every piece covered with writing, and Wangji wonders what exactly the task entails. Perhaps to find a particular well wish?

The room itself is not of any particular note, a simple bed pushed up against the far wall, and a desk beside it, covered in papers as well. There is a closet off to one side, filled with haphazardly folded purple YunmengJiang robes, and a folded-up bamboo and rice paper screen leaning against the wall beside it.

It is a very average room, and Wangji wonders just what the purpose of bringing him to this room was. Perhaps they simply required an enclosed place where the papers covering every surface in the room wouldn’t be blown away by the wind?

“Your second task,” Jiang Yanli starts, still smiling that benign smile of hers. “Is to find A-Xian’s handwriting.”

Wangji blinks. While he was confident that he would be able to recognise Wei Ying’s handwriting -after all, he’d spent a good three months in the Library Pavillion with him, looking on while Wei Ying scribbled out the rules of their sect- but there was… a lot of paper.

“You’re allowed to ask me for help twice, and your entourage can help,” Jiang Yanli continues. “But if you’re still unable to solve it after that… well, I guess you won’t be seeing A-Xian today, then. I wish you luck, Han Guang-Jun!”

Then Jiang Yanli walks out of the room, and shuts the door behind her.

Immediately, Wangji gathers all the papers that he can, stacking them together in as orderly a fashion as he can make them, and settles himself on the floor to begin his examination. Elder Brother settles himself on the floor opposite him, and smiles gently. “I may not know Young Master Wei’s handwriting as well as you do, Wangji, but I do still have some recall of what it looked like. At the very least, Wangji, I can help to filter out the very obviously incorrect ones.”

“Mn,” Wangji hums, already sorting through the first stack. “Many thanks, Elder Brother.”

“No thanks needed, Wangji,” his brother says, and the look in his eyes is unbearably soft, so soft that Wangji has to look away. “It is a happy day for you, and I will always do my best to see you smile.”

They are maybe halfway through the stack of papers with no successes when Zhenli's low murmur of "Mama," makes Wangji look up.

A-Yuan is asleep in the corner of the room, curled up on the bed in a little ball of red, and Wangji spares only the briefest thought to if the nap will crumple his robes. A-Li had been asleep beside him, last Wangji had checked, but it appeared that his son had woken up sometime while Wangji had been distracted, and had clambered into the closet beside the bed.

As Wangji looks on, his son grabs hold of the robes that are folded beneath him and cuddles into them. Immediately, Wangji stands, making his way over to Zhenli. It probably isn’t a good idea to let A-Li mess up some poor disciple’s robes, no matter that whichever disciple this room belonged to clearly had agreed to let his room be used in such a way.

“A-Li,” he says, reaching over to pick the child up, untangling him from the robes. “Come, do not make a mess of others’ belongings-”

“No!” Zhenli protests, uncharacteristically disobedient, and Wangji blinks, mildly shocked, at the way his son clings tight to the purple robes and refuses to let go. “No, Mama!”

Wangji shifts Zhenli in his grasp, hefting the child into his arms as he tries his best to tease the fabric away from Zhenli’s grip. His son pouts, eyes wide and shining and- Wangji’s heart clenches as tears begin to well up in A-Li’s eyes.

“Papa, no,” Zhenli whimpers, hiccuping softly. “Papa, Mama here, see, Papa-”

Zhenli pushes the purple robes toward Wangji then, still not truly letting go, and the fabric is close enough now for Wangji to smell the scent on it.

It is- lotus blooms and spice, this is- this is Wei Ying’s scent.

These are Wei Ying’s robes.

The scent is old, faint, barely even detectable, really, but it is recognisable, distinct and familiar in the way that only Wei Ying’s scent is, and Wangji feels realisation dawn in him.

If these are Wei Ying’s robes- then, then this room- this room must be his.

And Wei Ying was- Wei Ying was loud and impulsive and mischievous, and left his mark everywhere he went.

Sometimes literally, because Wangji had seen the area outside the guest disciple quarters after Wei Ying had been expelled from Cloud Recesses, and he still remembers running his fingers over the crudely carved “Wei Wuxian was here” that the omega had etched into the wood of the tree closest to his window.

...It was possible that the papers did not contain Wei Ying’s handwriting, right?

After all, they had already scanned through more than half of them, and all of them had been incorrect.

Wangji turns to the desk, and sweeps the remaining papers off of it, ignoring the little voice in his head that begins chiding him for making a mess.

The surface of the desk is scratched, speckled with dots of ink of varying sizes, little gouges in the wood and a stain that looks very much like someone had spilled what was possibly a bowl of some kind of liquid across the desk.

It looks like how Wangji would imagine a desk that Wei Ying owned would look, with evidence of every little thing that Wei Ying had done, the chaos and mischief and joy that Wei Ying brought with him everywhere he went.

It carried the marks of years of disorganised genius, and Wangji finds himself almost reverent as he runs his fingertips over the little grooves and stains on the polished wood. There is a little doodle in the side of the desk that Wangji finds, just a stick figure flying a kite, and he traces the lines of it, the slightest smile tugging at his lips.

The closer Wangji looks, the more doodles he begins to find, little scribbles and carvings, marks of the beauty of Wei Ying's mind.

But there are no words, just drawings, and no matter how adorable the doodles are, how much the thought of Wei Ying seated here, scribbling across the wood of his desk, warms his heart, Wangji cannot help but make a small sound of disgruntlement at the discovery.

"Wangji?" Elder Brother looks up at the sound, blinking. "Is everything alright?"

"This was Wei Ying's room," Wangji explains, and he does not need to do more than gesture to the marks on the desk for his brother to understand.

"Ah," Elder Brother says. "Perhaps not the desk, then. There must be other places where Young Master Wei could have-"

A-Yuan shifts on the bed, a little too vigorously for someone who was lying far too near to the edge, and Wangji lunges forward to catch the child as he tumbles off.

Brother's eyes are wide in shock, but Wangji can barely pay them any heed, because the lunge has brought him eye-level to the bed frame.

And there, carved crookedly into the wooden surface, are the same gleeful words that Wangji had seen on that tree trunk in the Cloud Recesses, what had felt like a lifetime ago.

Wei Wuxian was here.

Wangji blinks, and soundlessly passes A-Yuan, miraculously still asleep, to his brother before turning to the closed door.

"Young Madame Jin," he calls, and he does not have to wait more than a moment before the doors open.

“Han Guang-Jun,” Jiang Yanli greets, smiling softly. “Do you require assistance?”

Wangji shakes his head, and gestures toward the bed frame. “Found Wei Ying’s writing.”

“Oh! That was far quicker than I expected, I will admit,” Jiang Yanli says, and there is a shine to her eyes that Wangji prays is approval. “You truly are as great as A-Xian makes you out to be, I suppose.”

Wangji cannot stop the way his ears flush red at that, and he ducks his head at the praise. Wei Ying- Wei Ying spoke about him to his sister? Wangji knew how important Jiang Yanli was to his omega, knew how much the man valued her above almost all others, and that Wei Ying would speak of him to her, compliment him-

Wangji’s heart pounds hard in his chest, and he feels far, far too happy for words. Still…

Wangji raises his head, just enough to meet Jiang Yanli’s gaze. “Wei Ying is better.”

A surprised laugh, and Jiang Yanli hides her smile behind a sleeve, gesturing for them to follow as she turns toward the door. “I cannot argue with that. If young masters would follow me, then? There is one last task.”

Jiang Yanli brings them out to the front of Lotus Pier, where there is clear sky and blue lakes, and Wangji blinks as he looks up to see what is probably a hundred kites, all of varying shapes and colours, flooding the sky.

He is met by the familiar silhouette of Wei Ning, standing at the edge of the pier and looking up at the sky.

“A-Lin,” Jiang Yanli calls, and Wei Ning turns, the corners of his lips twitching, not quite able to smile but trying anyway. “Han Guang-Jun, Zewu-Jun.”

“Ning-ge!” A-Li squeals, already running forward to throw himself at said uncle.

In Brother’s arms, A-Yuan stirs at the cry, rubbing at his eyes with one hand and blinking blearily. “Ning-ge?”

Wangji watches as A-Yuan rubs the sleep from his eyes and takes in the sight of Wei Ning standing in front of him, before scrambling down from Brother’s hold to rush over to his uncle as well.

The children act as if the last time they saw Wei Ning was months ago, not simply two days. It is clear who the children’s favourite is, really.

Wei Ning laughs softly, and hefts both children into his arms. “A-Yuan, A-Li, how have you been?”

“Good!” A-Yuan cheers, pulling happily at Wei Ning’s hair.

"That's good," Wei Ning says, ruffling the boy's hair before turning to Wangji. "Second Young Master Lan, your last task is from me.

"One of these kites," he continues, gesturing up at the sky. "Holds the key to Young Master Wei's room. You need to find it, and shoot it down."

Wei Ning hands Wangji a bow and quiver then, and offers him what passes as a smile. "Good luck, Han Guang-Jun."

It does not take Wangji long to figure out which kite holds the key to Wei Ying’s room. At first glance, it seems unnecessarily tricky, and Wangji briefly wonders if there is any possibility that he might not reach Wei Ying in time for the auspicious hour.

The thought strikes panic into him for the barest moment, before logic returns. There is still a good amount of time before the auspicious hour, and Wangji does not truly believe that the task would be impossible to solve. YunmengJiang wouldn’t do that, he knows. They wouldn’t jeopardise Wei Ying’s happiness just for the sake of following tradition, wouldn’t sacrifice the marriage to torture Wangji.

Besides, Wangji is not second on the list of Young Masters for no reason. He is more than skilled in the six arts, of which archery was one.

The true challenge in this task lies in locating the correct kite to begin with, he knows.

It takes a few false starts, aiming and shooting down kites that had glinted with a metallic shine in the sun, but that had revealed themselves not to be the right ones.

Still, he gets it after a while, and it is truly not as hard as he’d thought.

The kite that had held the key to Wei Ying’s room had been a simple one, a typical diamond-shaped kite done in tones of red and gold. There are well wishes written on the rice paper, Wangji notices, and even as he plucks the key from the kite he turns to offer Wei Ning a nod of thanks.

Wei Ning nods back, and his lips twitch. “I wish you all the best, Second Young Master Lan.”

There is a long pause, and then Wei Ning gestures back towards the main building of Lotus Pier. “Go retrieve your bride, Han Guang-Jun.”

Chapter Text

Jiang Yanli is the one who leads Wangji to Wei Ying’s room, and it is only when Wangji is already standing in front of the closed door that the nerves truly begin to hit. What if Wei Ying changes his mind? What if Wei Ying decided that he wanted to take their children and just- walk away?

What if Wei Ying didn’t want to marry Wangji anymore, what if he’d decided that it was too sudden, that Wangji hadn’t courted him for a long enough period of time-

Then Jiang Yanli opens the doors, and all of Wangji’s doubts disappear.

Wei Ying is- Wei Ying is beautiful. Even with the gauzy veil over his head, obscuring his features almost entirely, Wei Ying is beautiful. He is resplendent in red and gold, the heavy fabric of his wedding robes draped over his lean form, intricate embroidery covering every inch of the fabric. There are phoenixes and dragons locked in a never-ending dance across his torso, little lotuses waving across the hem of his robes. Every gold thread shimmers slightly in the lighting, and every jewel sewn into the fabric sparkles, but none as brightly as the shine of Wei Ying’s eyes, visible even through heavy gauze.

Wei Ying is beautiful, and everyday Wangji wonders how he'd been lucky enough that this man chose him.

Wangji's heart pounds in his chest, his eyes drinking in the sight of his bride, his nose saturated with the scent of nervous, excited, happy omega, his senses filled with Wei Ying.

There is nowhere else he would rather be.

Wei Ying meets his eyes with a hesitance that belies his character, but when their gazes connect Wangji sees the way his eyes light up, the way the brightest smile tugs at his lips, and Wangji cannot help the way he begins to smile as well.

Wei Ying, his heart cries, pounding to the beat of that name. Wei Ying, Wei Ying, Wei Ying.

It is all he can do to hold himself back from sweeping his omega into his arms and kissing him senseless.

Mine, his alpha howls. Claim, bond, mark, mine!

He pushes down the instincts with long practice, and instead offers Wei Ying a smile, and a soft, awed, “Beautiful.”

Wei Ying ducks his head, and even though Wangji cannot see the blush through the fabric of Wei Ying’s veil, he is certain that it is there.

He is vaguely aware of Brother scooping A-Yuan and A-Li into his arms, vaguely aware of Jiang Yanli stepping aside, and then Wangji is surging forward, sweeping Wei Ying into a bridal carry and holding him close.

Wei Ying laughs, surprised and joyful, and Wangji’s heart beats in time to his omega’s breaths.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, were the gatecrashing tasks too tough, huh? Did Shijie and Jiang Cheng bully you too much? Tell me, I’ll help you get revenge, okay?”

Wangji smiles, and holds Wei Ying closer. “Not too hard. Worth it, for Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying’s eyes widen, and he turns his face into Wangji’s chest, heedless of the way it knocks his veil askew just a tad. He whines wordlessly, and Wangji just presses a kiss to the top of his head and lets his chest rumble with silent laughter.

The tea ceremony for the bride’s family was more to symbolise the joining of two families, and to welcome the groom into the bride’s family as well, but Wei Wuxian cannot help but feel the tears begin to well up when the tea set is brought out, when the doors to the main hall open and Jiang Cheng waves in two disciples each carrying a pair of ancestral tablets each.

The first set, placed down on an altar at the front of the hall, are Uncle Jiang’s and Madam Yu’s, and the pain is still there, even after so many years now. Still, Wei Wuxian is unsurprised by the presence of the tablets, because while Madam Yu may never have seen him as her son, he was still raised by them, still grew up as brother to their children, and Wei Wuxian is not surprised that he would bow to them, serve tea to them.

They are his parents too, after all.

But it is the second pair of tablets that come as a surprise.

The tablets are newly made, Wei Wuxian can tell, still shiny with new polish and without the wear of time. They are new, and they are-

They are Wei Changze’s and Cangse Sanren’s.

It is- His parents had had tablets in the Jiang Ancestral Hall once, a lifetime ago, made specially by Uncle Jiang who had seen them as siblings in all but blood, but Wei Wuxian knew that those had burned down along with the rest of his life when the Wens had razed Lotus Pier to the ground.

He had not- he had not known that Jiang Cheng had ordered new ones to be made.

Unbidden, the tears spring to his eyes, the first time today, but definitely not the last.

The tea ceremony goes by in a blur, and Wei Wuxian spends half of it blinking back the tears in his eyes as he serves tea to his parents’ tablets, to Uncle Jiang’s and Madam Yu’s, with Lan Zhan at his side. His tears have mostly dried by the time they turn to where Jiang Cheng is seated. Traditionally, Shijie and Jin Zixuan should have gone first, because Shijie was older, but Jiang Cheng is Sect Leader, after all.

So Lan Zhan and Wei Wuxian bow before Jiang Cheng and offer him their cups of tea.

After Jiang Cheng is Shijie and Jin Zixuan, and Wei Wuxian will never admit it, but he is even moved by the well-wishes the peacock offers.

(He’s allowed to, okay? It’s his wedding day!)

After Jiang Cheng stands, the next pair to take his place is… unexpected, but unsurprising. Wei Qing and Wei Ning sit, then, and Wei Wuxian fumbles to pour the tea when Wei Qing smiles at him. Fucking smiles.

It is maybe the first time Wei Wuxian has ever seen an expression that wasn’t desperation or anger or even just grudging respect on Wei Qing’s face, and it shakes him.

But she is his family now, as sure as Jiang Cheng is, as Shijie is, and Wei Wuxian smiles as he serves the siblings -his siblings- tea, his alpha beside him the whole way.

The tea ceremony complete, Wei Wuxian knows it is time they leave for Gusu, so that he can officially marry into the GusuLan sect, pay his respects to Lan Zhan’s family. He stands, Lan Zhan always at his side, and turns toward the doors.

He takes a single step forward, already knowing that the flight to Gusu will be made by sword, and trusting that Lan Zhan will carry him there.

Then there is a hand on his shoulder, holding him back, and Wei Wuxian turns to see Jiang Cheng, who is looking at him with intense eyes. There is something vulnerable in Jiang Cheng’s gaze, something raw and emotional and deep, and Wei Wuxian pauses.

He sees Jiang Cheng’s throat work, caught around words that do not come, and sees the way Jiang Cheng swallows hard. There is conflict in his eyes, but he straightens, pulling his shoulders back, and gestures toward the seats that Wei Qing and Wei Ning have just vacated.

“...Da Shixiong,” Jiang Cheng says, almost a whisper.

He does not have to complete the sentence for Wei Wuxian to know what he means, and he is pulling Jiang Cheng into a hug. “Okay. Okay, Shidi.”

Wei Wuxian smiles, and if his vision is a little blurry, and if Jiang Cheng’s eyes are suspiciously shiny, there is no one to tell.

He sits, pulls Lan Zhan down to sit beside him, and there is a smile pulling at his lips, too bright to keep hidden.

Wordlessly, Jiang Cheng pours two cups of tea, and kneels, offering the cups to them.

There should be well wishes exchanged now, but Wei Wuxian cannot fault Jiang Cheng for his silence, not when everything that needs to be said is already portrayed in his brother's every move, every gesture. Not when this is already more than Wei Wuxian had expected.

No matter that Jiang Cheng was younger than him- Jiang Cheng was Sect Leader, his Sect Leader, and a Sect Leader should never have to serve a servant's son.

But Jiang Cheng was doing just that, and Wei Wuxian didn't need words to know what Jiang Cheng meant.

You are my brother, and I wish only the best for you.

Traditionally, Jiang Cheng knows, there should be a sedan to take the bride to the groom's house. But this wasn't just a trip to a neighbouring house, or the next town over, this was the trip from Yunmeng to Gusu, and that was almost a week's ride by sedan.

Not by sword, though. By sword, it was maybe a two hour flight.

So Jiang Cheng unsheathes Sandu, and watches as Jin Zixuan helps A-Jie onto Suihua, and watches as Lan Wangji and steps onto Bichen, Wei Wuxian already secure in his arms.

It is probably too long of a flight for an average cultivator to carry two fully grown people on one sword, but Jiang Cheng knows that all of them are capable of it.

After all, he thinks, watching Wei Wuxian laugh and curl closer to Lan Wangji, Lan Wangji was the second best cultivator of their generation.

(Besides, the most impressive of all of them was probably Lan Xichen, who was patiently ushering both children onto Shuoyue with gentle hands.)

The flight is long, but not more than Jiang Cheng is used to, even with Jin Ling in his arms. He knew A-Jie and Jin Zixuan would rather their son travel with them, but Jin Zixuan was already carrying A-Jie on his sword, and adding on a rather fussy infant to the mix sounded like a bad idea.

(A Wei Wuxian-level bad idea, in fact.)

Their entourage of purple, blue-white and red moves swift and practiced, and while the flight is hardly taxing, the way Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji act in front of them is far more tiring than the actual exertion itself.

They are soon to be married, and already they are far too affectionate. Lan Wangji is constantly shifting Wei Wuxian in his arms, pulling him closer and nuzzling against the omega as much as he can without messing up Wei Wuxian’s painstakingly arranged accessories. But that isn’t the worst of it. The worst is undoubtedly Jiang Cheng’s dumb brother himself, who is shamelessly pressing himself up against Lan Wangji’s chest with his face buried in Lan Wangji’s neck, and even though Jiang Cheng knows there is a veil separating lips from skin, he can clearly see the way Wei Wuxian peppers close-lipped kisses over the exposed skin of Lan Wangji’s neck.

(At one point in time, Wei Wuxian had literally nuzzled against Lan Wangji’s scent gland, mouthed over it, and Jiang Cheng had only caught the barest glimpse of it before he was jerking his gaze away, goosebumps already breaking out over his skin, his stomach churning in disgust. Beside him, Jin Zixuan had cringed very visibly, while A-Jie just covered her lips with a soft, “Oh,” and Lan Xichen had jolted, scrambling to both cover the children’s eyes and avert his own gaze.)

Needless to say, Jiang Cheng was more than glad when they landed at the gates of Cloud Recesses.

The tea ceremony begins with as much fanfare as Wei Wuxian thinks will ever be allowed in the Cloud Recesses, and he watches with interest as Lan Xichen brings out the tea set that had been part of his dowry from YunmengJiang.

The water is already hot, the tea already steeped, and Wei Wuxian will never admit the way his hands tremble as he pours the tea out.

Then Lan Zhan’s hands are coming to join his, stabilising his shaking fingers, and Wei Wuxian feels a tension that he didn’t know that he had been carrying melt away.

He can do this. He can serve the tea, pay respects to their elders, and then he will marry Lan Zhan, and they will be husband and husband, and- he will finally be able to introduce Lan Zhan as his alpha.

The first serving is always to the parents, Wei Wuxian knows, and he watches with a kind of muted sadness as Lan Zhan leads him over to the tablets of his parents, brought from the Lan Ancestral Hall to the main hall for this exact purpose.

He kneels before Lan Zhan’s mother’s tablet, and Lan Zhan kneels before his father’s, and then they bow together, teacups cradled gently in outstretched hands.

They leave the cups on the altar, and pour out another two.

The tea is usually served in pairs, Wei Wuxian reflects, but Lan Zhan is really the first of his family to be married, and neither Lan Qiren nor Lan Xichen have a spouse.

Lan Qiren is already seated in front of where Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan should be kneeling, and this is where the true hesitation comes in. Lan Qiren has never liked him, although Wei Wuxian will admit that that is through none other than his own doings, but at this very moment in time, he cannot help but wish that he’d somehow managed to endear the elder to him.

It is a futile hope, because even as he kneels beside Lan Zhan, teacup in hands that, very pointedly, do not shake, Lan Qiren’s glare is absolute.

He bows, and offers the cup, and Lan Zhan mirrors his actions beside him.

One by one, Lan Qiren takes the cups and drinks, and then, miraculously, Wei Wuxian watches as his stormy expression clears ever so slightly.

“I,” he starts, placing the emptied cups down without the slightest clink. “Wish you two marital bliss. May your marriage thrive, and may you always be happy.”

Lan Qiren’s gaze is fixed far more on Lan Zhan than it is on Wei Wuxian, but Wei Wuxian cannot find it in himself to care. This is the closest he will ever get to a blessing from Lan Qiren, and it is already far more than he’d ever dreamt of.

He smiles, bright and wide, and blinks back the tears that begin to well in his eyes. It wouldn’t do to ruin the makeup that Shijie had worked on so painstakingly, after all.

“Thank you, Master Lan,” he says, as Lan Zhan echoes the sentiment beside him.

Lan Qiren’s gaze narrows, solely fixed on him now, and Wei Wuxian freezes, just a little. Surely Lan Qiren wouldn’t do anything to spoil the ceremony-

Then Lan Qiren’s glare lets up, although the intensity in his gaze is still present. “I suppose… you may address me as Uncle, as well.”

This time blinking back the tears does not work entirely, and Wei Wuxian can only pray that the singular droplet that escaped his eyelids has not brought any dark makeup with it. He doesn’t want to look like a panda on his wedding day, no matter that few would even see under his veil.

(He wants to be the prettiest for Lan Zhan, after all. His alpha only deserved the best.)

After Lan Qiren is Lan Xichen, and when the Sect Leader takes his seat where his uncle has just vacated, he is already smiling, soft and warm and welcoming, and Wei Wuxian feels something in him ease. Lan Xichen is just that kind, after all, and few can resist his effervescent charm.

“Elder Brother,” Lan Zhan says, holding out a new teacup, head bowed. Wei Wuxian follows suit, and Lan Xichen drinks from both cups, smiling all the while.

“I would normally wish for the happy couple to bear healthy children,” Lan Xichen says, and there is laughter in his tone. “But I believe it is a little late for that.”

Beside Wei Wuxian, Lan Zhan makes a soft noise that could possibly be constituted as a sputter, and Wei Wuxian himself feels his cheeks burn red-hot, and he cannot bring himself to meet Lan Xichen’s eyes.

Lan Xichen chuckles, soft and low, and continues, “So I shall simply wish you good fortune and happiness, and may you find joy in your bond. May you always have a harmonious union, and be of one mind.”

There is a long moment after, and Wei Wuxian watches as Lan Zhan bows his head in thanks, and Wei Wuxian follows, watching as Lan Xichen smiles and stands, gesturing for them to take the vacated seat as he steps away and allows Jiang Yanli to usher Zhenli and Lan Yuan forward.

A-Yuan and A-Li are a little too young to be serving tea without assistance, but they seem determined to anyway, even though the significance of the gesture probably goes unnoticed by them.

Still, guided carefully, they toddle forward. Each of them is clutching a cup in careful hands, and when they reach them, they kneel in front of their parents. They offer the cups silently, A-Li to Lan Zhan and A-Yuan to him, and Wei Wuxian laughs softly and cannot resist leaning forward to ruffle their fringes, just a little before he takes A-Yuan’s offered cup.

He downs the cup of tea as Lan Zhan does, and places the cup gently down on the tray.

“Thank you, A-Yuan, A-Li,” Lan Zhan murmurs lowly, patting both their heads. The two boys smile brightly up at them, and Wei Wuxian cannot help but smile back.

Chapter Text

With the tea ceremony complete, and the auspicious hour almost upon them, Wei Wuxian knows what is next, and he cannot wait.

The formal ceremony, the three bows- then he would be officially married.

His name would go into the Lan sect registry, into the clan records, beside Lan Zhan's name, and then no one would be able to take his family from him ever again.

Lan Zhan meets his gaze, and already Wei Wuxian can see the love in those familiar gold eyes, can see the way they shine and sparkle and convey so much emotion that the face does not, and Wei Wuxian cannot wait. He will be formally wed to Lan Zhan soon, to the alpha of his dreams, and then tonight they will finalise their bond with the mating claim that his omega has been screaming at him to do since he'd first fallen in love.

To leave his mark on Lan Zhan, to let the world see his bite on his alpha's neck and know that this was Wei Wuxian's alpha, that Lan Zhan belonged to him and he belonged to Lan Zhan- there is almost nothing more that he would want in this world, save maybe Lan Zhan's own claim marking his skin.

Mine, his omega purrs lowly, and Wei Wuxian cannot help but agree as he stares deep into those golden eyes, sees the way they fixate on Wei Wuxian's own.

Yours, his omega says, and Wei Wuxian has to bite his tongue against saying the word aloud.

It is neither the time nor place, but- but soon it will be.

He is almost shaking with anticipation now, jittery with both nerves and joy, and it doesn’t help when Lan Zhan looks at him with such loving eyes, soft and gentle and Wei Wuxian just wants to kiss him right there and then, no matter that it is improper.

Then Lan Zhan is taking his hand, leading him to the center of the main hall, and they kneel.

"First bow, to heaven and earth," Lan Xichen says, still smiling softly all the while.

As one, they bow, low enough that their foreheads touch the ground. Wei Wuxian's hands are flat on the ground, supporting his weight as he bows, and then there is warmth covering his right hand. Surprised, Wei Wuxian blinks, tilting his head to the side just enough to see a calloused, slim-fingered hand covering his own.

He smiles, eyes tracing that pale hand up to an intricately embroidered red sleeve, then further up to soft golden eyes.

"Second bow, to the parents," Lan Xichen says, and while his smile does not falter, there is a low, wistful undertone to his words.

A disciple from GusuLan steps forwards, bearing the tablets of Qingheng-Jun and Madam Lan, just as two YunmengJiang disciples come forth bearing both his parents' and Uncle Jiang and Madam Yu's tablets.

There is a form of sadness that prickles at his heart then, but then warm fingers curl tighter around his own, and the feeling dissipates, replaced by the slow affection of his first and only love.

He bows, hand safe in the grasp of his alpha’s.

"Third bow, to each other.”

Wei Wuxian turns to face Lan Zhan, and his heart thuds fast in his chest, light and happy and it is almost like there is a rapidly expanding bubble of joy in the space behind his lungs, inflating as he meets his alpha's gaze, until there are tears prickling at his eyes once more, until he feels like air is a secondary desire to the need he feels to have his alpha by his side.

Golden eyes meet his, for the barest moment, and then both of them are bowing low, breaking their eye contact even as their hands remain joined.

This is- he is married now.

He is married, and claimed, bonded in all ways but one, and that will come soon. He is Lan Zhan’s, and Lan Zhan is his, and finally, finally, the tears fall.

He cannot help it, they drip down his cheeks in a gentle stream, most likely smearing his makeup beyond repair, most likely leaving him a mess under the veil, but that’s- that’s okay, because he’s married now, and it doesn’t matter-

It doesn’t matter, because Lan Zhan is crying too.

There are tears dripping down his alpha’s face as well, small droplets making their way silently down his cheeks, dripping from his chin to land on their robes, and he is- Lan Zhan is smiling, not wide, not bright, but small and gentle and loving, and Wei Wuxian is helpless in the face of such beauty.

He wants to kiss him. He wants to, so desperately, but it is a wedding ceremony and the bride’s veil should only be lifted in the privacy of their room, later, and he cannot kiss Lan Zhan through the heavy red gauze.

He will not kiss Lan Zhan through the heavy red gauze, because their first kiss as a married couple should be skin on skin, lips to lips, and he wants it to be perfect.

It is okay. Wei Wuxian has waited years for Lan Zhan, and Lan Zhan has waited almost a decade for him.

They can wait just a few hours more.

They stand, hand in hand, and Lan Zhan pulls him into a desperate hug, his lips pressing firm and warm against the crown of his head, and Wei Wuxian smiles, hard enough that his cheeks hurt, and presses his face to the skin of Lan Zhan’s neck.

There are cheers surrounding them, and the sound is louder than anything Wei Wuxian has ever heard in the Cloud Recesses, but somehow they seem muted anyway.

Nothing is more important that the weight of Lan Zhan’s body against his, after all.

It is a long moment later that Lan Zhan pulls back, and then Wei Wuxian is being led to stand in front of Lan Xichen, whose smile looks a little teary as well. Lan Xichen nods, and as Lan Zhan bows his head to his elder brother, reaches up to untie the forehead ribbon from Lan Zhan’s head.

This is not part of the ceremony, Wei Wuxian thinks. At least, it is not part of the ceremony that he knows, but he cannot find it in himself to care as Lan Zhan raises their joined hands, and Lan Xichen knots the forehead ribbon around their wrists deftly.

“I wish you two all the best. Wuxian, I am passing the care of my little brother on to you, I trust that you will protect his heart for as long as he has protected, and will protect, yours.”

Wei Wuxian laughs softly, vision swimming a little as he focuses on the white and blue tied securely around his and Lan Zhan’s wrists.

“Of course, Zewu-Jun,” he says, and if his voice is a little too soft, a little too choked, no one says a word.

Lan Xichen’s expression is gentle, and there is a tender mirthfulness in his eyes. “I think Elder Brother is fine, is it not, Wuxian?”

Wei Wuxian’s fingers tighten around Lan Zhan’s, and he swallows against a sob as he smiles up at the elder Lan brother. “Of course, Elder Brother.”

Beside him, Lan Zhan brings up his free hand to swipe at his eyes, and bows to Lan Xichen. “Wangji thanks Elder Brother.”

“You don’t need to thank me for this, Wangji,” Lan Xichen says. “It is all I have ever wanted, to see you happy.”

It is only later that night, when they are about to retire to the Jingshi that Jiang Cheng approaches them.

“Lan Wangji,” he starts, eyes fierce. “I’m giving my brother to you, so you better take good care of him, you hear? If not you’ll see just how well I’ve trained up our new Yunmeng disciples.”

Wei Wuxian laughs, slinging an arm around Jiang Cheng’s shoulder and pulling his brother into a headlock, purposefully mussing up his neat hair. “Jiang Cheng, ah, Jiang Cheng, it’s good to see how much you care about this da shixiong of yours, but please don’t threaten my husband on our wedding night!”

Jiang Cheng flushes red, and smacks Wei Wuxian’s hand away from his hair. “Who wants to hear anything about your dumbass wedding nigh-”

“A-Cheng! Get your mind out of the gutter, who ever said anything about-”

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng splutters, and his face goes even redder as Wei Wuxian laughs, and laughs and laughs. “Shut up-”

“Mn.” The hum of agreement cuts Jiang Cheng’s words off, leaving both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng to stare at Lan Zhan, blinking as the alpha nods seriously.

“Will take care of Wei Ying,” he says calmly, pulling Wei Wuxian back to his side to press their bodies close together. “Will always take care of him, want only the best for Wei Ying.”

“I-” Wei Wuxian sputters, and it’s his turn to flush red, burying his face in his hands, heedless of the scratchiness of gauze against his skin. “Lan Zhan, you- ah, I can’t-”

“Good,” Jiang Cheng interrupts. “Good. I’m counting on you then, Lan Wangji. If I ever see you go back on your word, you better hope someone else gets to you before I do.”

Lan Zhan nods again, expression resolute. “Would let you, if I ever did.”

“We have an agreement, then.”

Wei Wuxian sputters, but his cheeks are bright red and his heart swells with warmth in his chest.

It is… It is a perfect day indeed.

When they finally reach the Jingshi, Wei Ying is secure in Wangji’s arms, carried across the threshold like the blushing bride that he is. Wangji finds, after he has set Wei Ying down, that his hands have begun trembling, but whether it is with nerves or anticipation he cannot tell.

Wei Ying- Wei Ying is finally his, his to cherish, his to protect, to keep safe. His to love. Wei Ying is his, and he is Wei Ying’s, and the happiness in his heart is too much to contain, too much to keep down, and this is maybe the first time he finds that his tears do not stop coming, that his lips cannot stop smiling.

Wei Ying’s hands are warm in his own, not the soft smoothness of a dainty omega, but the familiar callouses of a lifetime spent wielding a sword, calloused with hard work and diligence and skill, and Wangji is ever captivated.

HIs omega, his love, his life, and this is everything that Wangji has ever wanted.

Wei Ying smiles up at him, eyes sparkling under the red blur of his veil, and even through it Wangji can see the way his eyebrow raises, almost in challenge.

“Well, Lan Zhan?” His omega, his beautiful, amazing, wonderful, mischievous omega asks. “Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to do what everyone else already thinks we’re doing?”

Wangji feels his ears go hot, but he meets Wei Ying’s gaze steadily, and lets go of Wei Ying’s hands, slips his hand out from the ribbon still tied around their wrists. With his hands now free, he re-secures his forehead ribbon around Wei Ying’s wrist, pressing kisses over each individual fingertip, over the line where ribbon meets skin. Above him, Wei Ying purrs a little, soft and content, and Wangji mouths over the scent gland in Wei Ying’s wrist, marking himself with his mate’s scent.

Then he raises his hands, fingertips brushing across heavy gauze and catching slightly. He grasps the fabric in fingers that are still shaking, ever so slightly, and raises it over Wei Ying’s head.

Wei Ying is even more beautiful without the barrier of heavy, semi-opaque cloth, and Wangji drinks in the sight of his husband, silver eyes shining and rimmed in black. His brows are darker than usual, traced fine and thin with what is likely soot from a willow branch, and stands in sharp contrast to the white of rice powder dusted over his skin. The powder dulls the red of Wei Ying’s blush ever so slightly, but the muted pink of rouge across his cheekbones only brings it out once more, a deep, rosy pink that is artfully done enough to still seem natural. There is an elaborately done huadian drawn carefully between his brows, a perfectly rendered image of lotus petals and cloud, and Wangji runs a gentle thumb over the gold leaf on his husband’s skin. His lips are painted a deep red, as red as his robes, as red as his veil, and even though his makeup is no longer perfect, even though there are tear tracks visible in the rice powder dusted across his skin, Wangji has never seen anything more beautiful.

His mind is filled with nothing but his beloved’s name, ad he cannot help but lift a hand from where it clutches onto red gauze and caress those warm cheeks with gentle fingers.

Every fiber of his being is screaming his husband’s name, his heart thudding to the rhythm of those precious two words.

Wei Ying. Wei Ying, Wei Ying, Wei Ying.

Those silver eyes eyes shine with mischief and tears both, and Wangji can do nothing more than lean in, cup Wei Ying’s cheek with a hand, and press lips to lips.

He is certain that the red on Wei Ying’s lips is coming off on his own, but he cannot care as Wei Ying presses closer into his kiss, wraps lean arms around Wangji’s neck and pulls himself in. His lips move with hunger, with a passion that cannot be mimicked, and Wangji’s left hand twists, still caught in the fabric of Wei Ying’s veil.

There is a low ripping sound, and the veil rends in his grip. It is expensive fabric, of the highest quality, and yet Wangji cannot feel remorse as Wei Ying chuckles softly against his lips and eases his tongue into Wangji’s mouth. Wei Ying’s hands come up to tangle in his hair then, messing up carefully combed strands and tangling in them for the briefest moment before nimble fingers come up to undo his topknot, to release his hair from his headpiece. Gentle fingers card through his hair once the headpiece is removed and set aside, and Wangji purrs as Wei Ying rubs soothing fingers against his scalp, relieving the slight ache of the heavy metal pulling at his hair for long hours. Wangji reaches up as well, tugging the hairpins from Wei Ying’s own hair ensemble, setting them aside before lifting the intricate accessory from Wei Ying’s head and letting the torn veil flutter to the ground.

Wei Ying’s hair, now loose, flows over Wangji’s hands, down Wei Ying’s back and over his shoulder to brush against the skin of Wangji’s cheeks and collarbone, and Wangji shudders. He presses deeper into their kiss, which has gone slow and lazy as they directed their attentions elsewhere, and reignites the desire that has burned low in him all day.

Whining against his lips, Wei Ying's arms tighten around him, his scent going soft and blissful, and Wangji can only croon in response. He lifts Wei Ying into his arms once more before settling him down on the red and gold sheets of their bed, his omega a resplendent sight against the sheets, his fair skin and dark hair in stark contrast, the red of his wedding robes blending in perfectly. Wangji stands for a long while, simply taking in the sight of his husband, his, sprawled across their bed in their room, comfortable and safe and happy.

Then Wei Ying smiles, smug and confident and sure, and raises a beckoning hand.

“Well?” He asks, eyes glittering, and-

What else can Wangji do, but fall?