Work Text:
They don't live here, so bring him with them to an inn. (A "hotel", they called it. The concept is not unfamiliar but the scale of it, like everything in this time, is intimidating.)
Wei Ying doesn't want to leave him alone, worried that he may accidentally hurt himself because of his "amnesia". Wei Ying's brother is worried about leaving the two of them alone because he thinks Lan Wangji may harbour ill intentions towards Wei Ying - it makes Lan Wangji bristle that he could even suggest that. They argue as if he cannot hear them, then they get two rooms and Wei Ying - no, not Wei Ying, but Lan Wangji can't help thinking of him as Wei Ying - leads him to a room somewhere a mind-boggling twenty-five storeys up. The door makes a sharp beep when he unlocks it with a little card, and the lights come on like magic when Wei Ying puts the same card in a little slot by the door, and Lan Wangji wants to be curious but it's too much, all too much.
He hasn't played his qin in many years - for however long he was frozen, and for the two years and nine months after Wei Ying's death. But right now he would take it out of his qiankun pouch if he wasn't afraid of startling his companion and maybe play one of the Songs of Clarity to soothe his mind. Instead, Lan Wangji concentrates on the familiar rituals of cleaning his body in the white porcelain tub with the water that comes from a metal tube in the wall, and thinks about the things he knows are important and irrefutable. He is Lan Zhan, courtesy name Lan Wangji; husband to Wei Ying, father to Lan Yuan, and brother to Lan Huan. They may all be dead and gone, but these facts do not change.
(Everybody is dead and gone.)
Clothes have been laid out for him, a little too short in the leg, but he expresses his gratitude for them and wears them anyway. There are two identical beds in the room. The man who isn't quite Wei Ying waves away his thanks and leans back on his pillow with a contented sigh and turns down the lights by pressing something on the table between their beds. Lan Wangji takes the other bed and turns his head so that he doesn't have to look at him lying like that with his eyes closed.
"Can you tell me a bedtime story?"
It's a strange request; he is not a child. Lan Wangji may have only met this version of Wei Ying today, but he has the same tells as his own Wei Ying - the way he puts his arms under his head so that it appears that he's relaxed when he's not, the slight stiffness of his face from keeping it expressionless. Wei Ying isn't a stupid man, never was, and it makes sense that he would be suspicious of a man he found frozen in a cave dressed in strange clothes and claiming to have no money and no memories. He's giving Lan Wangji a chance to tell him about himself through a story that doesn't have to be taken as the truth if he doesn't want it to be.
Lan Wangji hesitates, trying to figure out where to start, then speaks: "Once, a long time ago, there was a lonely boy who found a friend when he fought him on a rooftop in the moonlight over two jars of wine."
"Does this story have a happy ending?" Wei Ying asks, a smile in his voice and eyes still closed.
Lan Wangji considers this, then carefully replies, "I think that depends on where I stop."
--
This story starts like this - in a hidden cave with a frozen man and a careless boy who fell down a hole in a pond because he was trying to take a closer look at something he thought he saw in the water.
"Is that a statue or a person? Hello?"
It can't be Wei Ying's voice because Wei Ying is dead, but Lan Wangji can't help hoping all the same. But his body doesn't belong to him - he can't move his hands, his limbs or his face, and he wonders if he's the one who's dead this time, a ghost trapped inside a frozen corpse. He tries to take a deep breath, and his chest aches but expands. It's almost impossible to open his eyes at first, his lashes crusted with a layer of frost, but he forces them open.
His eyes take a while to adjust; someone is standing in front of him. He blinks, once, twice. It's unmistakably Wei Ying, soaked to the bone and dressed in strange clothes, with his hair cut shockingly short. Wei Ying's eyes widen when he sees his eyes open.
"You... oh my god," Wei Ying gasps out and almost slips in the freezing pond when he tries to back away.
No, don't go. Don't leave me. Come back.
"Wei… Ying.”
Wei Ying's eyes grow even wider. "What- did you just- how do you know my name?"
It's him. It really is Wei Ying, even if he doesn't remember him anymore. And it hurts, but such bittersweet pain is preferable to the hollow aching grief that Lan Wangji has had to bear three times in his life, once for his mother and twice for Wei Ying.
Wei Ying is alive.
He expects Wei Ying to run anyway, and since he can't move to chase after him, Wei Ying will disappear again. Instead, Wei Ying swallows hard and comes closer. "Do I know you from somewhere? Why are you dressed like that?" he asks.
He's close enough to touch now, if only Lan Wangji could move his hand. Wei Ying frowns and reaches out to touch Lan Wangji's arm, then gasps. "You're freezing! Shit!"
He takes off his jacket. It's soaked but it's warm from his body heat, and he takes one of Lan Wangji's hands in his and tries to warm it up. Seeing no improvement after a while, he shakes his head. "Sorry about this, but this is an emergency."
Lan Wangji isn't expecting Wei Ying to hug him. He never thought he'd feel Wei Ying's arms around him again. Lan Wangji keeps his eyes open despite the tears; if he closes his eyes it will be too easy to convince himself that this is just a dream. Wei Ying is shivering as well, but he doesn't let go.
“Do you feel better?"
"Thank you," Lan Wangji mumbles.
"Let's talk after we get out of here. Can you stand?" Wei Ying helps him to his feet. "Do you have other belongings, like a bag? Or this, uh, wooden thing?"
Lan Yi's qin should repel intruders who do not bear the forehead ribbon of the Gusu-Lan Clan's inner circle, but it hasn't because it no longer exists as a qin. Powerful as it was as a spiritual object, all that is left of it is broken string and rotted wood. That is the first time Lan Wangji realises that the world he knew no longer exists outside the cave.
"Never mind, we can always come back to look for anything you've left behind," Wei Ying says.
Lan Wangji grunts in agreement, but he has a feeling that they shouldn't bother. After they leave, if they try to find this cave again it will probably be gone.
--
Were you filming a movie or cosplaying? How did you end up in that cave? Do you have family we can call? Are you sure you don't want to go to a hospital? So many questions that he can't answer truthfully without sounding like he's gone completely insane, or simply cannot understand - they use words he's never heard before or combinations of phrases that just sound like gibberish to him, and they might as well be speaking a different language.
Lan Wangji is thankful that his brother and Wei Ying are the only ones who have truly been able to read him, because he feels like he is going completely insane. Wei Ying has a little rectangle that he can use to talk to people far away and he can write on it without using a brush. Lan Wangji doesn't know what is a car, or a television set, or Wi-Fi, but he has to pretend that all of it isn't overwhelming and frightening.
His body feels different as well. He must have used up a lot of his qi to keep himself alive while he was frozen. He wonders if this is how Wei Ying felt after his golden core was removed.
He gathers from their questions that he should have a card that proves that he is who he says he is, but of course he doesn't have one. All he has to his name is a qiankun pouch that holds his sword, his qin, Wei Ying's sword, and Wei Ying's flute. He tells them his name is Lan Wangji, even though it hurts to hear Wei Ying call him that. Wei Ying tries to convince his brother that he was probably robbed and hit his head, mentioning nothing about the fact that Lan Wangji called him by his name when he found him, so Lan Wangji plays along.
The man who looks like Wei Ying is actually named Lian Weiying - different words that sound the same as the name of the man who was Lan Wangji's husband and soulmate. When he stumbled upon the cave, he was on vacation with his adoptive brother, Lian Cheng. Lan Wangji can't believe he'll have to put up with Jiang Wanyin in this life as well, but Wei Ying did tell him that he'd once promised Jiang Wanyin that they would be brothers again in the next life, and Wei Ying has always tried to keep his promises.
"You want to bring him home? Have you lost your fucking mind?" Lian Cheng is shouting so loudly that Lan Wangji can hear him clearly through the wall.
"A-Cheng, he's got nobody else."
"Then bring him to the police station and see if anyone has reported him as missing! We should have sent him to a hospital anyway, if he's so badly hurt that he can't remember anything other than his name. Don't you think it's suspicious that he doesn't want to go to a hospital?"
"He must have his reasons, A-Cheng," Wei Ying replies. Then he drops his voice, and Lan Wangji almost misses his next sentence. "I trust him."
It's enough. Even if Wei Ying never remembers him or the life they had before, it is enough.
--
There's always someone in the next room, standing a few feet away, looking down from a higher floor, looking across from the next building. There are too many people in this time, too many for anyone to ever be truly alone. The weight of his qiankun pouch tells him it isn't empty, but he hasn't dared to open it and check on the state of the things he's brought with him to this life, things that were precious enough to keep by his side at all times. Maybe all that is left is wood dust and rusted metal.
When Wei Ying returned from being dead for sixteen years and he claimed that his memory had gotten worse, Lan Wangji hadn't understood, not really. Now, something will trigger a memory, or the memory that there should have been a memory - but he reaches for it and finds nothing there. If being dead for sixteen years wreaked such havoc on Wei Ying's mind, what will being frozen for centuries have done to his? He thinks he remembers the important things, but how can he know if what he's forgotten is important when he doesn't even remember it? He remembers Wei Ying dying, twice. He remembers quite a few of the songs he used to play on his qin. He does not remember his mother’s face, but he isn’t sure if he ever remembered it at all. Even if he gets the chance to play one of the Songs of Clarity, Lan Wangji isn't sure how much of the rest of his memories he will recover.
(If he plays Inquiry, can he call back the rest of his ghosts? Will it be worse if they answer, or if none of them do?)
--
Wei Ying shares a room with his brother in the little apartment he lives in with his brother and sister. He hangs up a bedsheet as a temporary partition in the living room so Lan Wangji has a small private space for himself and cheerfully tells him to make himself at home. He teaches Lan Wangji how to buy his own clothes, a mattress, and other necessities online, paying for all of it as if it’s only natural for him to, and teases Lan Wangji while he shows him how to take measurements for his clothes sizes. It makes Lan Wangji's heart ache a little, knowing that he means nothing by it; how strange it is to miss someone who’s standing right in front of him, making some joke he can’t understand about his big hands and feet.
The three Lian siblings run a little coffeeshop-slash-bakery which is always packed to full capacity in the mornings. The first time Lan Wangji tried coffee, only his good upbringing had stopped him from spitting the bitter drink out, and Wei Ying had laughed good-naturedly at him, then added so much sugar and milk for him that it was unbearable in a different way. It's oddly comforting to know that Wei Ying's taste in food is still appalling in this life.
He’s glad to see that Wei Ying’s sister exists in this time, too. He didn’t get a chance to know her in the previous one, but her serenity reminds him of the time he left behind. Her name in this life is Lian Li, meaning 'beautiful', and the man she is engaged to does not bear any resemblance to Jin Zixuan. Lan Wangji is surprised to find that he's disappointed that he might not see Jin Ling in this life.
Lan Wangji insists on helping out at the shop to repay them for their kindness. Lian Li is quiet like he is and very patient with him, teaching him how to use the ovens and mixers, and praises his steady hand. There is strange peace to be found in making perfectly uniform buttercream drop flowers in pastel shades, in watching eggs, butter, sugar, and flour swirl together.
She doesn’t ask him awkward questions, and he knows Wei Ying has asked Lian Cheng to leave him alone. He can tell that Wei Ying is being careful around him, holding back on his teasing, although he will sometimes ask if he remembers anything new. He fell asleep before Lan Wangji finished his story on the first night at the hotel, and Lan Wangji suspects he’s decided that it’s just fictional or a convoluted metaphor for Lan Wangji’s life story.
“Hey, Wangji-ge. You know, I think that rotted wooden thing that was next to you when I found you was one of these things,” Wei Ying says one evening when his siblings are otherwise occupied. He hands Lan Wangji his phone - there is a picture of a guqin on the screen. “Did you play?"
Lan Wangji hates lying to Wei Ying, so he doesn't. "I did."
"If we got you one, would it help you regain your memories?"
“I don't know.”
Wei Ying takes the phone back and taps it, his eyebrows going up. "Wow, these things are really expensive. What if I found some guqin music for you to listen? Perhaps it'll jog your memory. Do you have a favourite song?"
"Yes."
"Ok, hum it and the app will try to find it," Wei Ying says, handing him his phone again.
If it was the one thing Wei Ying remembered after being dead after sixteen years, perhaps he'll remember it this time as well. Lan Wangji's heart is in his throat when he hums the song he wrote for Wei Ying.
The app doesn't recognise it, but Wei Ying frowns. "Wait. That song..."
He thought he didn't mind if Wei Ying never remembers, but hope is dangerous, intoxicating, like a rush of blood straight to Lan Wangji's head. He holds his breath, waiting for Wei Ying to speak again.
Wei Ying shakes his head and absently rubs his temples. “Sorry, it probably just sounded like something else I've heard before."
--
Every night, he helps Lian Li wash all the baking pans and mixing bowls, wipe down the counter surfaces and insides of the ovens, and put away all the leftovers in the fridge. It's usually past midnight when the four of them get home, but Lan Wangji has slept enough for a few lifetimes, so instead of sleeping, he reads.
Reading is a familiar comfort. When he was young, after his mother’s passing, he practically lived in the Library Pavilion. Besides, there is so much he doesn’t know about this time that it only makes sense to learn. There aren't many books in the house but there is a fairly varied selection: Lian Li's books are mostly recipe books for all sorts of dishes and books on baking techniques, as well as some light novels; Lian Cheng's books are all college textbooks, from when he was studying for his accountancy degree; Wei Ying has a voracious appetite for science fiction novels and Chinese martial art novels. Some books are clearly by foreign authors, sometimes translated into Chinese and sometimes not.
Lan Wangji is reading one of Lian Li’s books, a story about a prince who lives on a tiny planet and who is in love with a rose, when Lian Cheng pushes aside the bedsheet that forms the wall of Lan Wangji's room without asking for permission and stands at the threshold with his arms crossed. Lan Wangji has been expecting this confrontation for some time now and he has to remind himself that Lian Cheng has never played a part in pushing his brother past the edge of hopelessness, and has never needed his brother to sacrifice his golden core for him. He does him the courtesy of setting his book aside.
"How long are you going to stay here?" Lian Cheng demands. Lan Wangji looks blankly at him.
It would certainly be inconvenient if Lian Cheng throws him out. Lan Wangji isn't as completely overwhelmed by the modern world as he was when he first emerged from the cave a month ago, and he could find a job elsewhere; he has learnt that in this overpopulated time, some of the children born outside the One-Child Policy law end up like him, with no official records, and there will be people who don't mind hiring him for menial jobs. But he will not leave Wei Ying's side unless Wei Ying asks him to.
"Look, I don't know if you really believe this stuff or you're just acting, there're plenty of crazy people in this world. You talk in a weird way and you were wearing a fucking costume when we found you. I don't believe what Guai-zi said, that you don’t remember anything,” Lian Cheng says. “Why have you latched onto my brother like some evil spectre?"
Lan Wangji stays silent. It used to infuriate Jiang Wanyin, and apparently it works on Lian Cheng as well.
“Fine. Just so you know, I’m not throwing you out only because Guai-zi believes you’re hiding some romantic tragic backstory, but I’m watching you,” Lian Chen seethes. “If you dare to hurt him, I’ll break your legs.”
Lan Wangji doesn’t manage to hide his reaction to that, but of course Lian Cheng doesn't understand his surprise.
"I'll do it! Don't think I won't," Lian Cheng says defensively, before stomping out of Lan Wangji's space.
--
Lian Li is getting married in two months. After she moves out, the two brothers intend to move into her room, which has an ensuite bathroom, and Wei Ying assures Lan Wangji that he can have their old room so that he won't have to sleep in the living room.
She's going to be making her own wedding cake, and she shows Lan Wangji her plans for a three-tiered cake with two different flavours in each tier. It's not an ostentatious cake; on the surface it looks simple, but the subtle floral pattern on the fondant and hundreds of tiny sugar flowers will take hours of slow, careful work to make and position.
"Will you help me make it? I'll pay you for it, of course," she asks him.
"No payment necessary. It would be my honour, Miss Lian," he tells her gravely.
"There's no need to stand on ceremony with me. You can call me 'Jie' like the boys do, if you want," she says with a smile. "And I'm paying you, no buts about it. This is extra work on top of your job here at the bakery."
"Thank you, Li-jie," he finally acquiesces, then hesitantly adds, "Li-jie, could you do me a favour? Could you teach me how to cook lotus root and pork rib soup?”
She looks surprised, but beams and nods. “My grandma had a recipe that I always wanted to try. Let’s cook it for dinner on Thursday.”
She sends Wei Ying out to buy ingredients from the supermarket on Wednesday during the lull in business after 3pm and urges Lan Wangji to go with him. The shop is open from 7.30am to 10pm, all days of the week, and between getting ready for customers and cleaning up after closing, Lan Wangji has spent most of the last few weeks in the shop, at home, and in the car, travelling between the two places. Wei Ying is clearly delighted to have a chance to go out and stretch his legs and takes Lan Wangji via the longer route, through a park. There aren’t many people here on a weekday afternoon, so Lan Wangji spots the threat instantly.
He reaches for Bichen on instinct and the spirit of his sword responds despite his diminished qi, waking sluggishly from its long slumber inside the qiankun pouch. It’s probably not a good idea to draw a blade of cold steel out of nowhere in the middle of a park, but there’s a horde of dogs heading towards Wei Ying and the incompetent person who is supposed to be controlling them by their leashes is just being dragged along. But Wei Ying isn’t screaming, he’s cooing at the dogs. That stops Lan Wangji in his tracks.
“I’m sorry!” the dog walker apologises breathlessly, and with his cap pulled low over his face, it takes Lan Wangji a moment to recognise him as Wen Ning.
Between Wen Ning's sudden appearance and Wei Ying gleefully playing with the dogs, Lan Wangji feels like he's been struck by lightning. There's nothing in his head but white noise. It becomes obvious that Wen Ning is fully human and a passing stranger, and even though Wei Ying immediately strikes up an easy conversation with him - about dogs - Lan Wangji can't help thinking that perhaps Wen Ning is better off having nothing to do with them anymore. Whatever debts they'd had between them have been repaid in full, and with that, the paths of their destinies are no longer intertwined.
Will there come a day in one of their many lifetimes when the debts between Wei Ying and him have all been paid? Will there be a distant reincarnation in the future where he and Wei Ying don't owe each other anything anymore, not even friendship? Will it be the life after this one?
"Wangji-ge, are you ok?" Wei Ying asks worriedly. "Maybe we've been in the sun for too long. Let's take a seat over there."
Wei Ying leads him to a bench in the shade and buys him a bottle of water from a pushcart. Lan Wangji watches Wen Ning in the distance, walking away from them. Everything and everyone he knew is gone, but he has never learnt to grieve properly.
Because grief is the process of letting go.
"What's wrong? You look like someone died," Wei Ying says. "Did you... remember something?"
Lan Wangji takes a deep breath. "Can I tell you a story?"
"Sure."
He tells him everything except the names, fearing that it would sound like too absurd of a coincidence. He tells him about studying together in Cloud Recesses, about the Xuanwu, about the burial mounds and Wei Ying's descend into demonic cultivation. He tells him about playing Inquiry and bring A-Yuan up, then about Wei Ying coming back and their life together as cultivation partners until Wei Ying's second death. At the end of it, he still isn't sure how much Wei Ying - no, not Wei Ying, Lian Weiying - believes.
It's evening now, the setting sun sending long shafts of golden light between the skyscrapers all around the little park in the middle of the city. Lian Weiying is quiet, thinking about his story.
"You loved him very much. This guy who died."
"I did. But he's dead." Lan Wangji sees it now; this isn't like the first time that Wei Ying died, when he had been resurrected by the spell. Even though his soul is the same, Lian Weiying is his own person, and it would be unfair for Lan Wangji to treat him as Wei Ying.
"I'm sorry that you didn't get your happy ending."
"We had many happy years together."
Lian Weiying nods, expression sceptical. After all, Lan Wangji still looks like he's in his thirties, so how many years could they have had together? (Not enough, never enough.)
“We should go, we’ve been gone a long time,” Lan Wangji says. His heart should feel heavier now that he’s accepted that Lian Weiying isn’t Wei Ying, but instead he feels lighter.
“Wait,” Lian Weiying says softly, and grabs him lightly by the wrist before he can get to his feet. "Lan Zhan. That's your real name, isn't it?"
Lan Wangji's eyes widen.
"Can I tell you a story?"
Lan Wangji nods mutely.
"It's about a boy who kept having such vivid dreams about a place in the clouds that was full of rabbits that he made his brother go with him to find it."
"Does this story have a happy ending?" Lan Wangji asks.
Lian Weiying shrugs and smiles. "I don't know yet. I think it's just begun."
The sky is losing its gold and turning blue; their hands tentatively find each other as they sit there on the park bench for a little longer yet, watching the lights of the city come on.