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There is a small wonder, in the eyes of a child that hugs your leg and looks up at you with big eyes as a greeting, Lan Xichen thinks, and he gently pats little Lan Yuan’s head in a way of saying hello.
‘Lan Yuan,’ he greets the child, ‘How are you?’
‘I’m fine!’ Lan Yuan tells him cheerfully, and he takes a step back to bow respectfully. The child…even though he’s only five, he already knows proper manners and greetings, something Lan Xichen knows incites great pride in Wangji whenever the elders begrudgingly praise little Lan Yuan for being so Lan.
Lan Xichen knows that he himself is very proud of the boy his brother has taken under his wing—adopted, even.
‘But,’ Lan Yuan continues, lips turning down into a pout Lan Xichen wants to coo at, ‘It’s Zhan-ge’s birthday soon. I wanna get him something…’
Ah, that. Lan Xichen has already gotten him his gift for this year—a red and blue tassel for his sword, even though red isn’t usually something Wangji incorporates into his meticulous appearance, Lan Xichen knows that his gift will be appreciated.
‘Mhm,’ he agrees, nodding, ‘Would A-Yuan want me to accompany him to the marketplace so he can pick something out for my brother?’
‘That would be amazing!’ Lan Yuan exclaims, voice rising over what would be considered polite in the Cloud Recesses, but Lan Xichen lets him go, because it truly is a cause for excitement that Wangji’s birthday is coming up. Besides, he thinks fondly as he watches Lan Yuan bounce in place, he’s a child, and he should be allowed to be excited too. ‘Thank you, Sect Leader Lan!’
And with that, and another proper bow, Lan Yuan bounces away, presumably to go join his other friends, but Lan Xichen’s heart aches strangely at the difference between how he and his brother are addressed.
It’s not as if the child is his own, Lan Xichen muses, making his way to the Jingshi, but to call Wangji Zhan-ge…
It reminds Lan Xichen of other times, of other people who have called his brother by his birth name—that is, one person only—and he sighs.
Thinking about the past and how Wangji was hurt will not help him now, and he pushes the matter to the back of his mind to meditate upon later.
Lan Xichen clears his duties for a day, claiming that he has very important business to attend too, but with the way Lan Yuan clings to his leg happily and how his uncle raises an eyebrow him indicate that he isn’t believed.
It’s still true, though! Making Lan Yuan and Wangji happy is a very important business that Lan Xichen would love to personally oversee everyday, except that he doesn’t really have time to.
With a quick farewell, Lan Xichen takes Lan Yuan by the hand and leads him down to Caiyi town, where the market is bustling around and busy, and Lan Xichen makes Lan Yuan promise not to let go of his hand, because he doesn’t want him to get lost.
The people there nod at him respectfully, cooing at how cute Lan Yuan is, and the little boy takes in the praise proudly, puffing his chest and smiling gratefully at everyone who pauses to compliment him.
It takes the better half of the day for Lan Yuan and Lan Xichen to stumble upon a small shop. It’s quite rustic-looking, but Lan Yuan seems to be interested, and Lan Xichen lets the boy pull him along into the shop, where a bell chimes as they open the door.
Inside, there are instruments. There are guqins, guzhengs, gongs, even dizis, and Lan Xichen lets Lan Yuan wander around the shop as he inspects the quality of the guqins. Of course, they aren’t as amazing as the quality of those that cultivators use, but they are still skillfully made, beautiful and smooth, and Lan Xichen finds himself admiring the woodwork as he traces a finger along the strings.
‘Good afternoon, Sect Leader Lan,’ a kind voice says, and Lan Xichen finds himself turning and look into a young woman’s eyes. ‘What business would you have with our humble shop?’
‘Good afternoon,’ he returns, and gestures to Lan Yuan, who’s enraptured by the erhu, eyes wide, and Lan Xichen and the woman share a glance as he makes excited noises about the instrument he’s playing with. ‘He wanted to buy something for his father. I came with him to supervise.’
The woman nods in understanding, and bows once again. ‘Then, please take your time, Sect Leader. I will be here for assistance, if you should be in need of any.’
‘Thank you.’
And with that, the woman sits down one of the chairs, and Lan Xichen pays no more mind to her. Instead, he goes to Lan Yuan, who’s—interestingly—looking at the polished flutes with the most awe Lan Xichen’s ever seen on a child—and that’s saying something.
‘Did you find anything you like?’ Lan Xichen prods quietly, sitting down in a half squat so that he can be on eye level with Lan Yuan. An idea occurs to his mind, and he chuckles before saying, ‘Lan Yuan, do you want to buy Zhan-gege new guqin strings?’
Lan Yuan seems to consider that offer for a second, but then he quickly shakes his head. ‘No!’ he vehemently denies, ‘I want this!’
Lan Xichen follows his finger to where Lan Yuan is pointing, and promptly tries not to choke on his own spit.
There, on the stand that Lan Yuan is pointing to, is a dizi.
And it’s a black dizi, which is…which is very not Wangji, but Lan Xichen is also reminded of another dizi, one which wrought calamity and disaster and all sorts of horror, and he wonders if Lan Yuan knows what he means by getting Wangji that specific present.
But Wangji himself had assured Lan Xichen does not remember anything of his time at the Burial Mounds, especially after that fever, and Lan Xichen figures that it might be some kind of instinctual memory.
It’s not like he hasn’t experienced that before—Wangji had told him that he didn’t remember their mother’s face, only that he woke up sometimes from a bad dream with the feeling of her hand on his cheek, like she was always there to comfort him.
Maybe it’s something like that.
‘Are you sure?’ Lan Xichen asks him, just to make sure, ‘Learning a new instrument is hard, you know?’
Lan Yuan frowns. ‘He already knows it, though! So it won’t be hard!’
And it’s Lan Xichen’s turn to frown, and he slowly asks, ‘A-Yuan, when have you heard Wangji play the dizi?’
The boy thinks hard for a moment, and Lan Xichen’s almost going to be relieved, when he says, ‘A long time ago! In a dark place!’
Lan Xichen’s heart almost stops. He tries to think logically. Muscle memory is a thing, he tells himself, and because he doesn’t remember who raised him up, Lan Xichen thinks frantically, and because he associated Wangji with the music—
It’s entirely plausible that Lan Yuan would assume that Wangji was the one playing the flute, instead of…anyone else who raised him up.
‘Sure?’ he asks the boy, for the last time, and when the boy gives an enthusiastic nod, Lan Xichen can do nothing but sigh and stand up and gingerly take the flute from its stand and place it on the counter.
The woman seems like she wants to question him, but is too polite to do so, and moments later, Lan Xichen and Lan Yuan are out on the busy street once again, and it’s like the world restarted again after being paused by the time they spent in the shop.
Beside him, Lan Yuan clutches the bag with the gift in one hand and Lan Xichen’s in the other, and Lan Xichen thinks that, whatever happens, at least Wangji will appreciate the thought behind the gift.
It is a mere two days later when Wangji’s birthday arrives, and Lan Xichen makes sure to go to him and wish him a happy birthday first. Call it petty, but Lan Xichen likes to be the first, especially when wishing his brother happy birthday and seeing the happiness on his face.
He goes about with his duties after that—birthdays aren’t very big occasions in the Cloud Recesses, after all—but in the middle of the day, Lan Yuan approaches him nervously, and Lan Xichen smiles and sends the senior disciples he’s talking to off before turning to him.
‘Hello, Lan Yuan,’ he greets, smiling down at the boy, ‘Is anything the problem?’
‘I,’ Lan Yuan hesitates, ‘I’m worried he won’t like the present.’
Of course, Lan Xichen thinks fondly, of course he’d be worried. And because he knows his brother so well, Lan Xichen knows that Wangji will absolutely love anything that Lan Yuan gets for him.
‘Don’t worry,’ he says, ‘Wangji will love your gift. Would you like me to follow you to him?’
Lan Yuan nods fervently, and he takes Lan Xichen’s hand into his and starts tugging him into the direction of the rabbit fields, gift already securely boxed and wrapped and held under his arm, and Lan Xichen allows himself a sincere smile before they emerge into the open fields where Wangji’s rabbits are kept.
‘Wangji,’ he says, alerting his brother to their presence—and, Lan Xichen thinks, Wangji really does look cute, surrounded by fluffy rabbits and caring for each one personally as if they were his own children, and Lan Xichen has to stop himself from cooing out loud at the thought of Lan Yuan being treated like a rabbit.
He nudges Lan Yuan forward slightly, and Lan Xichen sees the way Wangji follows the movement with his eyes, and Lan Xichen sees the way they soften impossibly when they see Lan Yuan doing a…not-very-good job of hiding the present behind his back.
‘Go on, Lan Yuan,’ he says, pushing him forward a little bit more, ‘You can do it.’
Eventually, Lan Xichen sees Lan Yuan steeling himself, and with all the grace of a five-year-old child, runs forward and yells ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY!’ right into Wangji’s face.
Lan Xichen doesn’t bother trying to hide the laugh that comes out of his mouth as he strolls forwards and sees that Wangji looks bewildered by this, and yet, his voice is perfectly steady as he says, ‘Thank you, A-Yuan.’
‘I got you this!’ Lan Yuan says, shoving the box into Wangji’s arms, and then his brother looks up at him.
Did you buy this? his eyes say.
I might have, Lan Xichen replies, and with that cleared up and a discrete roll of his eyes, Wangji turns his attention to the child sitting in front of him.
‘Thank you for getting a gift,’ Wangji tells Lan Yuan, whose eyes are wide and his hands are fluttering at his sides, as if he wants to open the gift himself.
‘I wanted to!’ Lan Yuan exclaims, and his eyes sparkle even more as Wangji finally moves to open the gift.
Lan Xichen quietly sits down besides his brother, and when his eyes sweep over to him, Lan Xichen offers his brother a reassuring smile.
With that, Wangji sets to unwrapping the gift, and Xichen sees the exact moment, when he opens the box that he realizes what exactly the instrument inside is.
Silence. Even the rabbits have gone still, quiet around Wangji as if waiting in suspense for him to make a move.
‘Wangji?’
There are no words to signify that Wangji caught him, but Lan Xichen knows that he heard, when his brother inclines his head ever so slightly to him, while sliding the dizi reverently out of the box and running his fingers over it.
‘Do you like it??’ Lan Yuan asks excitedly, and Xichen watches as Wangji nods slowly.
‘It’s lovely,’ he says, and then, ‘Why did you get this?’
‘You stopped playing!’ Lan Yuan says, ‘And I wanted to hear it again!’
Lan Xichen can hear the gears clicking into place as his brother realizes just what Lan Yuan was thinking, and he sees sadness frame his brother’s face like a shadow.
Before he can do anything, though, Lan Yuan’s face falls.
‘Zhan-gege,’ he says, sniffing woefully, and his posture straightens until his head bows and he looks morose, ‘I’m sorry you don’t like it.’
‘No,’ Wangji said decisively, and Lan Xichen did not know what to focus on—the fact that Lan Yuan read his brother as easily as Xichen himself did, or the fact that Wangji’s sadness cleared away as soon as he looked up at Lan Yuan again. ‘No, A-Yuan, I love your gift. Thank you.’
And Lan Yuan springs up again, happy and chattering, talking to Wangji about all the songs he wanted to hear, and Xichen smiles.
‘I cannot play now,’ Wangji tells Lan Yuan seriously, ‘I haven’t played in a long time, so I will practice. I only want to be the best for A-Yuan.’
And when A-Yuan giggles, and Wangji smiles, just the tiniest bit, Lan Xichen finally thinks that maybe the Yiling Patriarch wasn’t such a bad person for breaking his brother’s heart.
(‘See! It sounds much nicer than a vertical flute!’
‘A-Yuan…’)
And years later, the cultivation world is mystified by the revered Hanguang-jun using a dizi for cultivation. It’s not as if he still doesn’t use his guqin, but a black dizi hanging from his waist becomes a common sight, and everyone gets used to that fact.
What they don’t get used to, however, is the name.
The dizi—or as Hanguang-jun calls it—Wuxian.
There are not many people who do not know who this name belonged to, and it is no surprise when the cultivation world goes into uproar as soon as he names it.
And amidst all the rubble and chaos, Lan Wangji sits back and plays a haunting melody for Lan Yuan.