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It all starts after Wei Wuxian dies. When he comes back, the face in the water isn’t familiar to him, but he’s called “Mo Xuanyu” and there’s three bloody lines on his arms. The last thing he remembers is...all consuming grief and a sword through his stomach. His own sword, hadn’t it been? His name is Lan An and he’s lost his wife, Lan Xifeng, right? But that seems ill fitted, like there’s something he’s missing, so he acts the part of the shameless Mo Xuanyu while the mad thoughts rattle around his head. (He remembers another sword, but it pierces someone else’s stomach and there’s more grief…)
Then he meets the Lans. They’re young, not one does he recognize but he has to smile at them. They’re all so severe faced but they wear his wife’s ribbons, endearing them all to him instantly. The golden core of this body was not strong enough to sense their own cultivation levels and he was only slightly disappointed- he wanted to see if any of Xifeng’s disciples had cultivated a golden core like hers. The only way he could tell, then, was to break one of the rules they’d set forth.
So Lan An, as Mo Xuanyu, wandered right into the middle of the Lan’s nighthunt to examine the flags.
“Hey!” One of them shouted, “Stay away from that!” And then they came flying down the roof with sword arm extended. Lan An could’ve blocked it if he wanted to, but he was curious. The Lan didn’t injure him, holding the sword right to his throat instead.
“Jingyi!” Another one shouted and An smiled indulgently, obviously this was as high a spirited Lan as Xifeng had been. “Master Mo, are you alright?” The second on asked, knocking the first one away from him.
“Quite fine, Master Lan,” An replied. “I was just curious about your flags, I had seen talismans like them, but this actually attracts spirits rather than repels them, which is quite innovative.” He reached out, gently tracing the golden lines on black fabric. “Is it meant to have such a far distance though?”
Jingyi sheathed his sword to glare at An. “What do you mean? It should only attract spirits in the nearby area.”
“I would hardly call one thousand miles a nearby area, Master Lan.” An corrected him gently. How far had the cultivation world involved while he’d been gone? He had to commend the ingenuity of something like this, it would allow cultivators to lure ghosts and spirits towards them while protecting civilians.
Jingyi opened his mouth, presumably to give An a cutting reply, but the Lan who’d admonished Jingyi spoke up, cutting off his fellow sect disciple. “You’re quite knowledgeable in talismans, Master Mo. Were they your area of interest in cultivation?”
An didn’t like lying. “No, music was more my area but one must be knowledgeable in all areas and never turn aside an opportunity to learn more when presented.” He noted the additions to the talisman down easily, trying not to think of all the different ways to improve them. What he’d told the juniors was true- talismans had not been his area of expertise, but apparently he knew a lot more about them then he’d thought.
“That’s quite commendable of you, Master Mo.” The one talking appeared to be in charge and really, it’d been quite rude of An to never ask their names.
“May I request your name, Young Master Lan?”
“Lan Sizhui, Master Mo.” Lan Sizhui gave a quick bow. “Madame Mo said you were dismissed from a cultivation sect, but I cannot see a reason why.”
Here, Lan An gave a bitter smile. “Ah, Young Master Lan, it’s now apparently a cardinal sin to love a member of your same sex in the Jin clan.” He wasn’t going to repeat the offensive word he’d heard Mo’s cousin use on him. Jin Xing and Ehmeh would be so mad to learn what their sect had become in their absence. “Though perhaps I was more unskilled in cultivation than I thought as well.” Mo’s golden core wasn’t as strong as it should have been at his age, but with a little care and guidance it could still flourish into a powerful and unstoppable force. An knew because he hadn’t started cultivating until he’d met his wife and he’d been able to form an immortal core after ten years. It was hard, yes, but the rewards were endless.
“You’re a cutsleave?” Lan Jingyi asked with more curiosity then disgust but An had to wince at the coarse wording.
“Please do not use that term, Master Lan, it’s quite offensive. But yes, I have been known to enjoy the company of many fair people, regardless of their gender.” He had, in the end, settled down with his wife and promised his whole heart to her though, so it was strange to think again in terms of his attraction to others. “Is this an issue?” Had all Sects grown stiff necked? How long had Lan An been gone?
“No!” Lan Jingyi immediately bowed. “I’m sorry, Master Mo, I didn’t mean to offend. I’ve just never met...someone like that.”
An hummed thoughtfully, releasing his grip on the flag. “We aren’t that rare, Young Master Lan, we just tend not to be so forward about it.” Especially if you ended up in a respectable marriage. That hadn’t stopped Wen Mao or her wife though and Lan An had to smile at the memory of them.
“Is that why you wear the mask?” Lan Jingyi asked, leaning into Lan An’s space.
Lan An shook his head, he wore the mask because Mo had worn the mask. While he had a feeling the body he resided in was his now, it didn’t feel right to just change things without Mo’s permission. Besides, there were still the cuts to consider… Though he felt that had something unpleasant to do for Mo’s family, a price paid for a second life that he hadn’t even wanted..
“Either way,” Lan Sizhui broke in, “we need you to turn in, Master Mo. It’s not safe for you to be out here.”
And there was absolutely no way he was going to leave these juniors alone to face whatever was bothering Mo village. “You forget, Young Master Lan, that I’m a cultivator too. I don’t suppose any of you have a se?” He looked eagerly over each of the juniors, but they all shook their heads. “Ah, well, a sword will do in a pinch. I know where there’s one I can borrow.”
“Don’t you need a spiritual weapon?” Lan Jingyi asked. “And there’s definitely none of those around here. Except ours.”
Lan An wagged his finger, feeling as though he was channeling Lan Xifeng a bit. “Don’t worry, Young Master, a normal sword will do for me. A spiritual sword like yours is wasted on musical cultivators.” With a quick bow, he sprinted off. He’d seen the sword Mo Xuanyu’s cousin had, it would do quite well for Lan An’s purpose.
When he came back, Mo Ziyuan was already dead and one of the deep cuts on An’s arm had faded into a scar, confirming the thought that had been dogging his brain since he woke up: the payment for life was death. In that case, Lan An didn’t want it. He joins the juniors in the fight against the ghost hand, despite Madame Mo’s repeated attempts to pin everything on him. For all of Lan An’s powers, he wouldn’t rely on a ghost hand to kill people if he wanted them dead! And while Mo had apparently also wanted them dead (Lan An couldn’t find it in his heart to blame him, the last three days have been quite unpleasant, but An had grown up an orphan in a temple, unfortunately neither beatings nor starving was new to him), he’d resorted to snatching a spirit from the wheel of reincarnation, so the hand wasn’t his doing either.
When it’d come down to it, Lan An had remembered a peculiar ability of his and whistled corpses to action to fight each other while working with the Lans to cut off the arm of the fierce corpse and stuff it in a spirit-trapping bag. When they were done, Mo Manor was a mess, An’s clothes were in quite a state of disarray, but thankfully none of the disciples had so much as a scratch on them.
“I’m sorry we could not save your family, Master Mo.” Lan Sizhui apologized, bowing to him and Lan An had to shake his head. Such a big hearted disciple.
“It’s okay, Young Master Lan,” Lan An replied gently. “They were not kind people.” And with each death, one of the deep, bleeding wounds in his arm had disappeared. It seems this Mo Xuanyu had summoned his spirit from beyond to enact his revenge, but Lan An had no idea why he’d been personally chosen. He would have saved them, if he could. But that ghost was something else...more than ever, he wished he had Lan Xifeng beside him. He’d even take any of his sworn brothers or Wen Mao, who’d be happy to hunt down whatever that was.
“Will you be all right?” An asked them, looking over all the Lan disciples, some looked pale and drawn at having to fight the fierce corpses.
“Oh, yes,” Lan Sizhui assured him eagerly. “Hanguan-Jun is waiting for us in the city. If we had needed his help, we could have summoned him. But you were there, so we didn’t need to.”
Quite a title there… “Who is Hanguan-Jun?”
“Did you not get out much when you were in the Jin Sect, Master Mo?” Lan Jingyi asked, crossing his arms.
Lan An smiled at him, endeared beyond measure by these children. “I’m quite out of touch with current events and beg apologies, Young Masters of Lan.”
“It’s okay,” Sizhui assured him, elbowing Jingyi a bit. “Hanguan-Jun is Lan Wangji, Second Master of the Lans and our senior. There’s no better guqin player then him!”
Lan An would bet that Lan Xifeng could beat her descendant in a guqin playing contest any day, but did not say as much. “Perhaps I shall visit him and you some day then, Young Master of Lan. Just to see if he’s truly the best guqin player.”
“He is!” Lan Jingyi insisted. “Who could possibly be better?”
Lan An turned his face to the sky, smiling as he thought of Lan Xifeng. “I knew a woman once, though I fear she’s long dead, whose playing was so beautiful that even the Four Unholy Beasts could not help but be entranced. They lay down beside her, as tame as a cat who had lived among humans.”
Lan Jingyi scoffed. “Well, Hanguan-Jun killed one of the Unholy Beasts.”
Lan An’s attention snapped back to him. “Which one?”
“The Tortoise of Slaughter.” Lan Jingyi answered proudly. It was no small feat to survive an encounter with an Unholy Beast, never mind to kill it.
Some disciple of the Lans had gotten revenge for Ehmeh then, slaying the creature who’d taken her life. “Then we shall definitely have to meet. If there is a better guqin player then my Xifeng, I’m honor bound to meet them.” He bowed to the Lans. “Now return to your Hanguan-Jun safely.”
“We will, Master Mo. Travel safely.” Lan Sizhui said and then bowed deeply, causing the other disciples to follow his example.
Lan An indulged them in another smile. “For the Young Masters of the Lans, I shall. Let us meet again under better stars.” The Lans stood and departed, Lan An only stayed long enough to see them disappear into the distance, then went and retrieved a donkey he had seen. The mule was quite stubborn, but with patience Lan An discovered it was quite food motivated. Lan An wasn’t sure where he was going to go in this world, but he knew he would stop by the Cloud Recesses eventually. After all, he had promised Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui, even if he was sure Cloud Recesses wasn't the home he remembered it being.
In the end, his feet and donkey led him to Dafan Mountain. It had been a sacred sight when he’d first been alive, but he’d overheard a conversation saying that there were soul eating monsters there these days and that there was a large nighthunt being organized. Lan An could never stay away from those that had needed help- and it’d led him to meet Xifeng, so he headed right for Dafan.
“Help! Please help us!” The voices were quiet, still far off but Lan An urged his donkey forward when he heard the cries. When he arrived at the scene, he saw the same group he’d been passed by on the road, stuck up in golden nets. They looked like kin to spirit catching nets, but Lan An had never seen any woven like this. Did they belong to a new sect?
Either way, he drew his sword to free him, but was beaten by a haughty voice saying, “Don’t bother. If you release them, they’ll simply set off even more of them and it’ll be a waste of some perfectly good spirit nets.”
Curious as to who would say such a thing, Lan An turned around to see a boy who couldn’t be much younger then Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui with a proud and haughty look on his face. The Sparks-Admist-Snow peony gave away which clan the man belonged to though and Lan An looked between the boy and the nets with some confusion.
“Those are not Jin spirit catching nets.” Lan An insisted as he cut them down. The other cultivators didn’t even thank him before fleeing. Jin Ehmeh would sooner shorn her hair then let such shoddy workmanship leave her tower. Jin spirit catching nets were like glossmer and couldn’t catch a normal human if they tried.
The Jin disciple glared at him. “Of course they are! We bought them!”
An blanched. “You bought them? Why didn’t you make them?” Was the tradition of making spirit nets lost?
“Ha! Have you forgotten everything, Mo Xuanyu?” The use of this body’s name startled him and he realized this Jin must have known Mo Xuanyu before hand. At least Lan An was comforted by the fact there were no open wounds on him, so whatever had gone on between the two of them was not enough to mean this boy’s death. “Why would Jins ever lower themselves to make spirit nets?” The Jin continued, acting proud for being able to afford such expensive items.
This world was so different from the one he had come from. “I’m sorry, Young Master Jin, but I have no memory beyond last week. If I have visited some hurt upon you, I apologize.” It was quite possible that Mo Xuanyu had done absolutely nothing wrong, but Mo Xuanyu was dead and there was no way to know for sure.
The Jin scoffed, crossing his arms in a way that reminded Lan An of Lan Jingyi weirdly enough. “You should apologize to my Aunt and Uncle. You flirted with both of them! In front of each other!”
Oh. Perhaps he’d just avoid Koi Tower in this body.
“Wait, that means you don’t remember me.” The boy continued, arms dropping as he approached closer.
“I do not.” Lan An confirmed.
“Jin Ling.” He stuck his nose up in the air. “And you better not raise a finger against me or else my uncle will hurt you.”
Was this some politics he didn’t understand? “And your uncle is…?” Presumably someone of great importance in the Jin Sect, if flirting with them was what got him kicked out.
Jin LIng blinked at An and shook his head. “You really don’t remember, I guess. I have two. Jiang Cheng, Sect Leader of the Jiangs, and Jin Guangyao, Sect Leader of the Jins.” A well connected young man, no wonder he’d acted so spoiled. But he hadn’t mentioned any parents, so was he an orphan? Some sort of clan adoptee? But why would two Major Sects lay claim to him?
“I’m his uncle.” An authoritative voice announced, coming up from beside Lan An. He twisted to look (again, what was with these people and approaching in his blind spots?) and there were several people coming up the path. The one in the front was wearing purple and a coronet- this must be Sect Leader Jiang Cheng and his disciples. “Are you hurt, Jin Ling?” Jiang Cheng shot Lan An an absolutely venomous look and An wondered whom Mo Xuanyu had not offended. No matter, he’d lived with worse.
“I’m not, but the spirit net is destroyed.” Jin Ling gestured to the pale golden strands still hanging limply from a tree.
“I did you a favor,” Lan An informed him. “Those spirit nets were of shoddy make and a Jin of Koi Tower should never lower themselves to use the works of others.”
Jiang Cheng scoffed. “Don’t worry, Jin Ling, there’s other spirit nets.”
Then another voice. “Master Mo!”
And this voice made Lan An smile as he squinted into the distance. “Lan Sizhui, we meet again!” Emerging on the path was a trope of white and blue dressed Lans. To the right of the head Lan was Lan Sizhui and to the left was Lan Jingyi, which, Lan An supposed, made the middle one Lan Wangji or Hanguang-Jun.
“I’m surprised to see you here Master Mo, are you here for the nighthunt?” Sizhui asked. Then he realized whom it was that surrounded Mo and paused to bow. “Sect Leader Jiang, what luck we have to run into you as well.”
Jiang Cheng’s eyes slid over the Lans before settling on Lan Wangji. “I see you live up to your name, showing up wherever there is chaos.” His voice was as cold as ice and An revised his thought of Mo having offended Jiang Cheng. It seemed many people had offended Jiang Cheng simply by existing.
Lan Wangji just inclined his head into the insult as a blue cloaked cultivator emerged from the tree line. “Sect Master Jiang!”
Jiang Cheng closed his eyes. “What is it now? Spit it out!”
The disciple was obviously trembling, but bowed to all of them. “A blue sword glare has destroyed all the spirit nets in the mountain.”
Lan An laughed. It hadn’t been him, but really, credit to whoever had done it. A move worthy of Lan Xifeng indeed. Of course, laughing drew attention to himself and Jin Ling’s hand went to his sword. “You?”
“Oh, no.” Lan An shook his head, still laughing. “If I had the power, I would’ve but my golden core wouldn’t even be enough to bond with a spiritual weapon, never mind produce a sword glare.”
Another dismissive snort from the Jiang Sect head. “Of course it wasn’t him. It was Hanguan-Jun.”
The Lan disciples looked to Lan Wangji, presumably for him to refute it, but he did not. And so Lan Sizhui stepped up, bowing again, “I’m sorry, Sect Master Jiang. The Lan Sect will reimburse the Jiang Sect for any monetary loss incurred by the destruction of these nets.”
Jiang Cheng outright glared at the still snickering An and the Lans. “That’s not necessary. Jin Ling?”
“Yes, Uncle?” Jin Ling asked, looking mildly scared of his own uncle.
“I don’t want to see you again until you catch whatever monster is on this mountain. Do you understand me?”
Jin Ling bowed to Jiang Cheng. “Yes, Uncle.”
When he made no motion to move, a shower of purple sparks erupted from Jiang Cheng’s fist. “Well? Are you deaf? Get moving!” Jin Ling bows again and scrambles off, leaving An frowning. A temper like that could ruin a perfectly good disciple. Hopefully, Jin Ling would fare better. “And you,” he turned to snarl at An, “stay away from him.”
An wasn’t going to promise anything, so he just gave Jiang Cheng a look, who eventually huffed and left. What an unpleasant fellow! But those sparks had looked familiar… It couldn’t possibly be Zidan, could it?
Hanguang-Jun made his excuses as well (or rather, Lan Sizhui made them), leaving Lan An alone with the Lans again. Two nights and two nighthunts with the Lans, how lucky for him!
They didn’t mind him joining them again, so they passed around theories as they made their way up the mountain. They were heading towards a mountain temple that several locals swore by.
They arrived there at the same time as a great many disciples and Lan An stared up at the statue with a frown. There was something about it…
He heard Jin Ling’s scoff. “Ha, in that case I wish that the monster of Dafan Mountain would appear right before us.”
For a second, all the gathered disciples waited with bated breath but when nothing happened for a second, they started laughing and joking with each other. Lan An’s eyes hadn’t left the statue, though, so he was able to yell out for everyone to clear the way when it started to move . Oh, damn, were they all fucked. Swords weren’t going to do anything against a stone demigod.
An had a responsibility to save the kids though. And thankfully, the Lan disciples had a rocket to summon Hanguang-Jun to their side, which they lit off as soon as they were clear of the cave. But then Jin Ling decided to attack and was attacked in kind. In this situation, Lan An’s borrowed sword was all but useless, then he reacted on instinct, cutting down a bamboo pole near where he was standing and fashioning it into a crude flute. He’d controlled corpses earlier, why not a second time?
Hopefully, something was close by he hoped as he closed and started playing. The melody was familiar to him, like a childhood song only half forgotten. His eyes opened when he heard several terrified screams and saw a man, wrapped in chains, now fighting the stone demigod.
An did not stop playing, noticing he could encourage the corpse. The ability felt so familiar to him, but it was muscle memory without actual memory to back it up. When the stone demigod was finally defeated, all the disciples turned their swords towards Lan An’s helper.
One in red helpfully shouted that the corpse An had summoned was “The Ghost General” and he was a subordinate of Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch, who was dead. An raised his flute to tell the conscious corpse to return to the woods and hide, but he never got an opportunity- a firm grip on his hand refused to let him raise the flute again. On the other side of that hand was Lan Wangji with such a fierce look, An might’ve mistaken him for mad.
An hadn’t founded a sect with his wife by not being able to read people though, and he saw hope, for some odd reason, in Wangji’s eyes. “Second Master Lan,” An addressed him quietly, “please release my hand. I don’t want to see The Ghost General destroyed.”
Strangely, that sentence made Wangji’s hope die out and his grip loosen. An inclined his head in gratitude and started to play again, only for Wangji’s grip to return. “Not that song.” He warned Lan An and so he played a different song, hoping it got the message through. Thankfully, it did and The Ghost General disappeared back into the woods. An let out a sigh of relief, leaning into Lan Wangji. He needed to restore his missing memories, having skills he didn’t know how to correctly use was wearying.
Everyone’s eyes were on him and he gave them an awkward smile, wondering what that was all about.
He didn’t get a chance to ask though, as Zidan came sizzling towards him. Lan An could only stare in surprise. There was a riot of thoughts going through his head: wasn’t Zidan supposed to be blue? When had the wielder appeared? And why were they aiming at him? Before it could hit him though, it was deflected by a blue sword glare and Lan Wangji moved to stand between An and the Jiang Sect Leader.
How had a Jiang descendant ended up with one of Jin Xing’s most precious artifacts?
He had no idea why Lan Wangji would protect him, but he did feel...incredibly safe with the other man. Lan An pressed close to him and peered over his shoulder at Jiang Cheng.
Jiang Cheng, meanwhile, was sneering at them. “You know that protecting him just proves he’s Wei Wuxian.”
Lan An blinked, The name was familiar to him, but he couldn’t say why. And it wasn’t just because one of the disciples had yelled it a couple minutes prior with the Ghost General. “I don’t know who Wei Wuxian is,” Lan An said instead, hiding behind his descendant. “Never mind how I could be him. I’m just not interested in being hit with Zidan.”
“You don’t know Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch, but you know Zidan?” Jiang Cheng scoffed.
“Zidan is a first class spiritual weapon crafted by Jin Ehmeh for her husband, Jin Xing, on their third anniversary. It was going to be passed down to their first born son, but their second daughter proved to be more adapt with it, so it was given to Jin Zhao instead. It usually takes a whip like shape, but can be adapted with enough spiritual energy. Maintaining an adapted shape for too long can stress a golden core. When you strike someone with it, it will reveal whether or not they’re in their right bodies. It was originally intended to remove ghosts who had latched on to living hosts.” He spoke swiftly but without a single stutter, eyes focused on the purple light of Zidan. “I don’t know how you got it though.”
Jiang Cheng snarled. “Why you!” He lashed out with Zidan again and this time, Lan Wangji brought out his guqin out to deflect, obviously settling in for a long fight. While Lan An thought the fight might be fantastical, it wasn’t really what he needed right now.
“Stop!” Lan An cried. “If I let you strike me with Zidan, will you be satisfied that I’m not Wei Wuxian?”
“It doesn’t matter if you are, you use demonic cultivation and you’ll be coming with me.”
Stubborn as Jin Xing as well. But is that what he’d been doing with the flute? He could pass it off as something else, thankfully. “Please, it’s just a Spirit Call. I didn’t realize it was going to call a Fierce Ghost to help me.”
Lan Wangji looked over his shoulder at Lan An with a confused look, it wasn’t quite obvious since the man didn’t have facial expression but the look in his eyes spelled confusion. Did the Lans not teach Spirit Call anymore? If so, it might be easy to pass off as something he’d developed. Since he and Xifeng had composed the song.
“Spirit Calling? I’ve near of such a skill.” Jiang Cheng scoffed dismissively.
“And you know every skill a cultivator has every achieved? Just because I walk a different path doesn’t mean I’m demonically cultivating. I cultivate with music. I admit, flute usually isn’t my instrument of choice, but no one had a se zither.” And possibly cultivate by the demonic path now too. That was a new skill, but it didn’t feel new. Just like with the flute, it wasn’t Lan An’s first choice of instrument but twirling it right now was a comfort and his heart squeezed whenever he looked at Jiang Cheng’s face.
“You cultivated with the Jins and you have a shit core. There’s no way you can cultivate musically.” Jiang Cheng insisted, though An thought it was a weak argument at best.
Now, Lan An was incensed on Mo Xuanyu’s behalf. His core wasn’t half bad. “Give me a se zither and I’ll show you what this ‘shit core’ can do.”
“The flute not enough?”
“Ahhh, it’s my secondary instrument.” Lan An twirled it again. “While I can certainly take care of something like that stone god with it, I’d really rather have my zither in hand.”
“Where is it?”
A flash of memory. One zither burned, another smashed to pieces but it blurred to another scene- standing atop a building, staring down at everyone with anger as he lifted a black flute to his lips… Lan An gasped, suddenly unable to breath as he choked on blood.
Lan Wangji turned around instantly, putting his back to Jiang Cheng as Lan An coughed up blood. When he stopped, he noticed he’d gotten it on Wangji’s clothes. Wangji didn’t seem to mind, thankfully, but it was still awkward. The taste of blood brought back more memories- a cave with Wangji, both of them fading before taking on the Tortoise of Slaughter. Begging Lan Zhan to sing for him...the song… Oh. Oh. He was Wei Ying, wasn’t he? But he remembered being Lan An as well, as well as the wisps of hundreds of different lifetimes…
He clung to Lan Zhan, wondering why he was helping him of all people. Was Lan Zhan truly that kind, to help him even if he was The Yiling Patriarch, famous cultivator of the demonic path? And why did...Mo Xuanyu. He’d interrupted the reincarnation wheel, letting Wei Wuxian remember all his past lives through his sacrifice. That was an...unintended side effect.
Distantly, he heard Jin Ling ask after him and Wei Wuxian nearly cried. That was his nephew, Yanli’s only child.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says quietly and he’s never heard his name infused with so much worry. How had Lan Zhan known who he was while he didn’t even?
“Lan Zhan,” he returns equally quiet. “You needn’t worry, the body is mine.” Now that he had all his memories back, he knew exactly what ritual Mo Xuanyu had used. One on hand, he was glad to see his theories had been right, but on the other hand, interrupting the reincarnation cycle was not fun for the summoned. At least it’d grabbed the right soul...and he wasn’t going to think about being the reincarnated Lan An. At all.
“Hand him over, Lan Wangji,” he heard Jiang Cheng insist. Lan Zhan’s hands tightened on his shoulders.
“No. He will go to Cloud Recesses with me.” Lan Zhan insisted without turning around. “He needs medical treatment.”
Did he now? While one could probably say he needed medical treatment, it was a bit of a stretch. Largely, he was fine, just suffering from spiritual exhaustion- probably from improperly doing demonic cultivation.
Lan Sizhui was beside Lan Zhan immediately. “Master Mo, are you alright?” Wei Wuxian tried to fix the young disciple with a smile, but started coughing up blood again and it ended up quite a bit more grisly then he imagined.
Thankfully, his brother seemed to draw the line at striking an injured man with Zidan. Possibly because a pitiful man coughing up blood on the Lans can’t possibly be Wei Wuxian. Or maybe because nearly all the junior disciples are gathered around him, asking Lan Zhan if he’s alright. Wei Wuxian doesn’t stay conscious long enough to hear the answer.