Work Text:
It was a legend, as old as time itself.
To the cultivators and the common folk, they knew of spirits completely unlike the demons and resentful energies that they came to fear in the bleak darkness of the night. No, these spirits were more like the gods, or emissaries from the heavens brought down to give a lucky individual a purpose to their life. The spirits had no bias towards the wealthy and elite, or to those who ‘prayed harder’ than the others. Be they cultivator, young maiden, child, or even animal, there was opportunity to receive the spirit’s blessing. With it, they would gain powers unlike any other to be able to fulfill their duty. Their focus. In return for their success, they would be blessed with the gift of eternal life.
Alas, humans are humans.
They could not always fully understand the wills of the heavens. The blessed ones were often secretive, and their instructions often almost indecipherable. Sometimes, the requests given to them were too shocking. What is a small child who still clung to their mother meant to do with visions of his family home and village burning to the ground?
Then, there’s the denial. Suddenly this beautiful blessing was a curse. The individual begins to lose control, as they run out of time, or outright refuse to comply with the heavens’ wishes. They would morph into uncontrollable monsters. They were just as strong, if not stronger than even the most powerful fierce demons, and were treated by the populus as such. Who would trust someone whose focus was to start wars? To commit murders? To steal wealth? Surely the heavens would never decide to do such horrid things! It could only be resentful spirits, disguising themselves as emissaries and tricking foolish people into becoming their puppets. And in the end, those who failed their focus, if they were not killed before then, were banished to become stone with consciousness for all eternity, wallowing in their failure.
As more and more of these blessed individuals were mowed down, the more the legend began to fade into obscurity, and the more they were simply conflated with common roaming corpses, until none remembered the original intents of these cursed individuals chosen to do the heavens’ bidding. To the people, they were monsters. No more, no less.
Then one day, many years in the future, the sun was shot down from the heavens.
The people bore witness to demonic powers unlike anything they had ever seen.
Wei Wuxian!
Not only had that crazed young man destroyed an entire sect on his own, not only did he ruthlessly murder his own sister and her husband and countless others, he came back from the dead after leaving no body behind! There had not even been a spirit left for them to call back and destroy! Clearly he was evil! Villainy in its purest form! Despicable! What kind of disgusting reason did he have to return? To torment the masses yet again? To paint all of China red with blood?
~~
Wei Wuxian woke up feeling heavy.
Not from the arm of his husband, curled protectively over his body. It was something deeper inside, like his very being was being pressed down from all sides. Every day he felt more and more lethargic. More...subdued. Not even rich, spicy foods or his beloved Emperor’s Smile had been able to pull him out of his sickly stupor. He sighed minutely, carefully wriggling out of Lan Zhan’s comforting embrace before padding over to the entrance of the Jingshi to look up at the darkened sky. His hand unconsciously brushed down towards his inner left thigh, and with the dim moonlight shining down on him he could see the deep black and red brand dyed into his skin. He knew that he was avoiding it, the very last of his tasks that he was meant to complete. The angry red eye on his mark was just beginning to peek open, warning him that he was running out of his precious time. He wasn’t sure how long he could contain himself before he burst, just like he had before in the Burial Mounds.
He had hardly remembered the details of his original three months there, when the spirit had found him at the brink of death, sinking into the pits of resentful energies. He couldn’t remember what it looked like, he only remembered opening his eyes and floating listlessly in an inky black void. His thigh had begun to burn painfully, feeling like the very flesh beneath his skin was beginning to bubble and boil. What he remembered the most clearly, were the visions. Visions so clear that his head began to throb painfully. Flames, so many flames. Dead bodies. A small shabby village. A young man. Koi Tower. A temple. A meadow. All of his spinning and rattling against his skull.
Then he had woken up, the pitch black brand deeply embedded into his skin, and the visions still running through his mind.
His focus.
And he had...he had really seen it all through, hadn’t he? Destroying the Wen sect. The amount of death he had witnessed by his own hands. His futile attempts to save the Wen remnants. He had tried so, so hard to avoid his focus to do what he thought was right. But then Jin Zixuan died, and so did his shijie. He had begun to lose control. He had seen it then, the red eye in his brand was wide open. That was right before--
Well. He had turned to stone then. And he had had a very long time to think. He couldn’t speak to anyone, since no one could find him, his spirit locked firmly beneath the stone.
Everyone had been looking for a body. Not a rock.
Then he had been found. If he had been truly living, he would have shrieked as loudly as his body would have let him. Because the same young man who found him was the same one he had seen around 13 years ago, when he had been floating in that endless void. And he was brought back, his brand was black again. Almost like his time had reset itself. He reunited with Lan Zhan, discovered all of Jin Guangyao’s plans in Koi Tower, then finished it all in Guanyin Temple. Somehow...somehow after turning to stone he had still managed to continue his original focus.
What was left?
The meadow.
One so achingly familiar to him, familiar enough that he had been using all his will to avoid it.
He glanced back into the Jingshi. Lan Zhan was still deeply asleep. Without warning, without even bothering to slip on his outer robes or even putting on his boots, Wei Wuxian stepped out of the Jingshi and into the chilly night, taking weary, dazed steps towards the meadow where the rabbits were kept. The last spot.
Wei Wuxian let out a small groan as he sat down among the sleepy rabbits. His body felt terribly heavy. The weight even pulled on his eyelids, tugging them down as he struggled to breathe. .While this was much more preferable to his explosive end in the burial mounds, this isn’t truly how he had wanted to go. Cold, and alone. He shouldn’t have kept this hidden from Lan Zhan for this long. They should have planned a proper farewell.
Everything had become so hazy, before he finally let his eyes slip shut.
“Wei Ying.”
~~
Lan Wangji had woken up to an empty bed.
He shot up from his sleeping position, quickly taking in the darkened surroundings in the Jingshi. He noted two things: first, the entrance was wide open and letting in the chilly night breeze, and two, that Wei Ying was not there in bed beside him. His chest tightened painfully as he grabbed Bichen, and a glance told him that Chenqing was still in its stand. He hoped that Wei Ying was just sitting outside, staring up at the sky s he was wont to do when he’s unable to sleep. Worry began to bubble up his throat when Wei Ying was nowhere to be seen around the Jingshi. His husband was unarmed and missing. This was especially worrying now, when he had been more sickly, despite any of Wei Ying’s feeble attempts to cover it up with smiles and teasing. Lan Wangji knew him better than that. Things were not as okay as Wei Ying insisted they were. He was no fool, and Wei Ying knew that. He’d seen his love’s smile slip when they entered the Jingshi at night, and he’d see him continually fall asleep earlier and earlier than the Lan Sect’s 9PM bedtime. He was well aware of Wei Ying’s brand, and what it really meant.
The first location he thought to check after making sure that Wei Ying was nowhere around the Jingshi was to check the rabbit meadow, and to his great relief he saw the familiar mop of hair leaned up against a tree, his bright red under robe being nuzzled and nibbled on by the curious rabbits who weren’t scared of his now very subdued husband. A few of the little white puffballs hopped towards him hoping for treats as he kneeled down next to his husband, concern filling his eyes as he realized just how hard Wei Ying was breathing. His eyes were screwed shut, chest heaving as if he had sprinted all the way here.
“Wei Ying.” He murmured close to his ear.
Slowly, his love’s eyes opened, blinking lethargically as they attempted to focus on him, before he gave a small, tired smile. So dim, compared the bright grin he had always worn. “Ah, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan. I knew you’d find me.”
“It is late. Come back to bed, Wei Ying.”
“Mmm...I think...I think I really need some fresh air though,” Wei Ying tried to brush him off, “I really do think I need it.”
Lan Wangji could only stare, watching as his eyes fluttered shut again, his head slumping down onto his shoulder. He made a move to pick him up, and had he been any other man he would have recoiled at the feeling of Wei Ying’s bare skin against his own. He was colder than ice, chilled completely to the bone. Yet Wei Ying showed no signs of it, no shivering. Just sharp, shallow breaths.
”Wei Ying.” His eyes widened, as the realization struck him.
“Ah, I’m sorry Lan Zhan. I kept putting it off.” Wei Ying spoke without opening his eyes, like every word was difficult for him to get out. That was not how his Wei Ying was supposed to be. He was one who let words spill out with no care or effort. “It just felt so nice, Lan Zhan. Being here with you. I wanted to kiss you more, drink more wine. And being with A-Yuan again, after thinking I had lost him. It was stupid of me, not telling you. If I waited any longer I would have...I would have become…”
Without speaking, Wangji bent down and threw aside Wei Ying’s thin inner robe, revealing his thighs. Against the pale skin of his left thigh was the deep black brand, and a blood red eye just beginning to peek open.
It hadn’t been like that before. While he and Wei Ying had been traveling together, he would make sure to check on it. After reading ancient scrolls found in the forbidden section of the Library Pavilion, he had some idea of how to read the intricate markings, along with what little Wei Ying would tell him. But had it been enough? At the Guanyin Temple, it had still been fully black. But...lately they had not even had their everyday activities, since Wei Ying had been so tired. He hadn’t actually seen his brand in so long.
“Wei Ying...Why did you not tell me?” If he had known...he could have prepared.
“I was selfish.” Wei Ying admitted, eyes remaining unopened. “I didn’t want to think about it when it felt as though things were finally happy again. How could we live happily if we had it looming over our heads like that?” As though it wasn’t looming over our heads anyways was left unsaid.
“Have you accomplished it? What you were meant to do?”
Wei Ying had always been somewhat secretive about his focus, even after everything. Since he hadn’t turned at the Guanyin Temple, that meant there had still been things left unfinished for him to complete, yet Wei Ying had made no move for any task. He had just spent his time here in the Cloud Recesses, with Lan Wangji. He truly didn’t know what any of Wei Ying’s focuses had been.
“I think so...if not, it will be soon. It has to be, this meadow--”
“Then it will be like before.”
Wei Ying shook his head furtively, eyes cracking open slightly. “No! Not like before! The stone meant failure. I failed, back then. For me now...It’ll be like Mo Xuanyu.”
At the mention of this name, the memories flooded back to him. That day...Lan Jingyi had been in a panic. The young disciple had found a young man, curled up between large, jagged shards of crystal. He would have looked as though he were merely asleep, if he had not looked like he was made of pure ice, formed from the same crystal that surrounded him. It was like nothing they had ever seen. At first they thought it had to have been some form of statue of worship, as there had been some flowers placed gently on top of the young man’s clenched fists. But that hadn’t made sense.
Who would create a statue of such a pitiful looking boy, barely even a man, in that place? He was hidden away in a forgotten corner, and the material he was made out of...Not even the most brightly coveted, glittering jewels of the Lanling Jin sect could compare to it. And the detail...his features were too perfect for a mere mortal to have carved it. Though Lan Wangji and his brother had often been compared to jade statues, it truly paled against this young man. But they hadn’t dwelled on it, because soon after the dancing statue had come to life, and along with it came Wen Ning and Wei Wuxian.
Lan Wangji looked down at Wei Ying, and his eyes widened as he took in the faint azure glow that he had begun to emit. Ignoring his freezing skin, Lan Wangji dragged his husband towards him, clutching his body close to him, as Wei Ying, his Wei Ying looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. His body had finally begun to tremble, shaking in his grasp as the blue glow grew brighter and brighter.
“Lan Zhan, ah, Lan Zhan…” Wei Ying murmured, lifting a quivering hand towards Lan Wangji’s face. “You won’t forget me, will you?”
Lan Wangji grabbed it, pressing his cold hand against his cheek. “No, never. I will never forget my Wei Ying.”
Wei Ying let out a small laugh, rubbing his thumb against the smooth skin of Lan Wangji’s cheek. “This isn’t a goodbye, Lan Zhan. Lan-er-gee, Hanguang-jun. It’s never a goodbye.”
How could this not be a goodbye? When Lan Wangji finally had his beloved back in his life, in his arms, he was being torn away from him yet again. “Wei Ying…”
Before he could say anything else, Wei Ying spoke again. “Promise me, Lan Zhan. Won’t you achieve immortality?”
Why? Why would he want immortality if it wasn’t with Wei Ying by his side?
A finger lightly tapped his nose. “Lan Zhan, look at me.”
Lan Wangji looked down at Wei Ying, and saw the soft, genuine smile playing across his lips. Little glowing shards of crystal were floating around them, twinkling from the light of the setting moon.
“I’m not dying. I’m just...sleeping. You know how upset I get when I wake up and you’re not there waiting for me. So promise me that. Promise to me that you’ll be the very first person I see when I wake up again.”
When he...wakes up?
Yes. When the blessed one completes their focus, the heavens bless them with eternal life.
But this...this wasn’t...
“Lan Zhan?”
“Yes. Yes, I will wait for you Wei Ying. I will wait for you no matter how long it takes. No matter how many times I must wait again. I will be there.” He knew in his heart, he always would. “I love you Wei Ying.”
He could see a ghost of a playful smirk, dancing across Wei Ying’s lips. “Ah really? You love me Lan Zhan?”
“Mn...Like you...Fancy you..” He began the lovingly familiar mantra, Wei Ying’s weaker voice joining along with his as they continued it together.
“Love you...Want you...Cannot leave you...Whatever you…Cannot be anyone but you!”
Wei Ying’s hand, still pressed so tenderly against his cheek, slowly swiped away at the tears falling down Lan Wangji’s face.
“Thank you, Lan Zhan.”
Wei Ying’s body began to slowly lift up out of his grasp, the twinkling shards of crystal floating around them sharpening as an unknown force tugged Wei Ying’s body up into the air, the bright azure light enveloping him, crawling up Wei Ying’s limbs higher and higher as his familiar red robe slipped off falling back down to the ground.
Lan Wangji only saw the last whispers of Wei Ying’s beautiful smile, and the little crinkles on the corners of his eyes before his beloved was completely encased in the brilliant ice-like crystal, swirling in waves protectively over Wei Ying’s bare body as one of his hands stretched out, hand splayed open as if he were reaching up towards the heavens. A happy look was etched permanently, lovingly into his features, the small quirk of a mischievous grin still so apparent even in his crystal slumber.
Lan Wangji could only watch in silence for several long moments, at the form of his husband so still in front of him, as the first rays of the sunrise began to peek over the horizon, brilliant yellows and pinks playing off of his crystalline body as the rabbits began to curiously poke their noses at the new addition to their meadow.
Finally, with so much tender care, Lan Wangji leaned up to place his own hand over Wei Ying’s other hand, the one that was placed gently over his heart.
“I will wait for you Wei Ying. However long it takes. However many times I must. I will always welcome you home.”
From between the sounds of the gentle morning breeze, he was sure he heard the whispers of Wei Ying’s voice.
I will see you then, Lan Zhan.