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His life before seemed like nothing but a distant dream. The hurt, the shame, the grief had faded, had left scars, but had faded.
A part of him wanted to stay, if only to avoid giving in to the other part of him that wanted to leave. Who was he to decide his repentance was done? That he had done enough to make up for his role - his central role - in letting such a dangerous person make so many critical and deadly decisions? He should have been the person best placed to notice when one sworn brother plotted to kill another. But instead, he’d been ignorant. What use could he be to his clan, his world if he couldn’t even identify a murderer sitting smiling across from him, sipping tea?
He knew it was leave now or leave never - now, or he would pass the point where he could avoid the temptation to stay here forever, to - like his father - abandon the world despite his remaining responsibilities to the clan.
But was he even someone to be trusted with such responsibilities? His brother had been right, had fought and suffered to protect the innocent, had challenged the assumptions and traditions that had left so many in danger. And Wangji’s punishment had been so much more severe than the peaceful if lonely existence Lan Xichen had lived for… he had no idea how long he had been in seclusion if he was quite honest. It could be months, years, decades… what was time when you had no previous life you wanted to revisit? No future to look forward to?
In the end, it was a new shame, an old memory of Wangji, emerging from the fog of his subconsciousness - which occupied more and more of his mind as his time in seclusion went on - which made him decide he would leave now, not never.
Why are we not visiting mother?
She has gone away.
For how long?
Forever.
What about father?
He has gone away too.
For how long?
I don’t know.
You are not going away?
No. I am not.
So I still have you?
Wangji, I will always be here for you. We are the Twin Jades, not to be parted.
But he had made that too, into a lie. Knowing how heavily their mother’s death, their father’s seclusion, Wei Wuxian’s death and Lan Wangji’s own seclusion weighed on his brother, Lan Xichen had still abandoned him, adding to his brother’s burdens to bear.
Even in his darkest moments, when Xichen had wondered whether he could be trusted to trust anyone, his body had reflexively rejected the idea of not trusting Wangji. Each time one of these thoughts had crossed his mind, he had clenched his fists hard enough to draw blood. Even now, he wasn’t sure whether this reaction was because the idea of not trusting Wangji was ridiculous or because if he began to doubt his brother, he would lose all tethers to himself and so rejected the thought out of some remaining sense of self preservation.
Wangji was his only anchor. And even now, looking at the depressions in his palm, marks that would never go away, he felt guilty for even having allowed the thought of distrusting his brother into his head.
He had broken his promise from so long ago, a promise that, as long as lived, he should have been able to keep. The least he could do now, after what he had put Wangji through, after what Wangji had gone through, after trusting his own faulty judgment over his brother’s, was to make sure he did no more harm, broke his own promise no further.
And so, Lan Xichen left seclusion.
--
He blinked at the world outside. If his life before seclusion seemed like a dream, emerging from seclusion felt like waking from a coma.
It was disorienting. He didn’t know when it was, where anyone was, what was happening, it occurred to him for the first time to wonder how the Cloud Recesses had fared in his absence. As he had learned all too well, the end of a war never meant the end of hardship.
At least the back hill had never really changed - even when his home had burned (and he had fled, hand in hand with a monster), this sacred place had thankfully remained untouched.
The first sign of any life beyond his own was the sound of quiet chatter somewhere up the path - where the rabbits lived, Lan Xichen assumed.
He reached the first rabbit far sooner than he expected. This was odd, as the shy creatures generally didn’t wander too far from their family. He picked the small furry ball up, and it snuggled into his arm. He smiled - this was the first touch he had felt since (an arm lying bloody on the ground, a frantic search for treatment, for something to stop the other man’s pain, the bleeding, things happened so fast, and he was shoved away), well, the first touch he had felt in a long time.
He thought it would be farther to the rest of the colony, but he soon realized the little one in his arms hadn’t been as far away as he’d thought. The colony had expanded. A lot. Still, he did not put the rabbit down. There was a comfort to its weight that grounded Lan Xichen here, now.
He did not have to go much further before he reached the source of the chatter. A group of white clad disciples. They all had their backs turned, facing the herd, but by their size and the way they carried themselves, even while hunched over, Lan Xichen reasoned that they must be Senior disciples. Xichen knew that none were his brother, who he would have been able to recognize even from behind. He wasn’t sure whether he was disappointed or relieved. He chanced another step, willing the disciples to turn and notice him. He did not want to be the first voice he heard after all this time. He noticed a dry twig not too far in front of him. He took another step forward, rolling his foot carefully from heel to toe over the stick, successfully making it snap noticeably, but not loudly enough to put him in breach of Lan Clan rules so soon.
The disciples jumped, and Lan Xichen almost did too as the familiar, but decidedly older faces of Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi, as well as several other Juniors - no, these were Seniors now - turned to face him.
Sizhui was the first to react, since Xichen was generous enough not to count Jingyi’s “Ah!” as he fell out of his crouch and onto the ground as a true reaction to his presence. Sizhui rose, eyes wide as he bowed to Xichen, “Clan Leader Lan,” he greeted him, “It is good to see you.”
I was part of the reason your birth clan was wiped out. But Xichen smiled, his default expression coming back to him easily even after so long, “Is Wangji around?” he asked, keeping his tone casual, as if emerging from seclusion after an undefined but clearly, by the look of the disciples, lengthy amount of time was a common phenomenon.
Sizhui exchanged a glance with Jingyi, who was still on the ground, not even trying to close his wide-open mouth. At least some things never changed, Xichen mused, smiling at the thought.
“Yes. You are just in time actually. He should be in the Jingshi - he just got back from Yunmeng.” Sizhui had apparently decided if Lan Xichen was going to treat this as normal, he would too.
“Could you… take me to him?” Xichen asked. He knew the way, of course, but he thought he might be able to bear any inquisitive eyes more easily if he had someone by his side.
“Of course, Clan Leader.” Sizhui bowed again, “Would you… would you like to leave him here, or take him with us?” Sizhui asked, pointing at the rabbit. Xichen had almost forgotten was in his arms.
“I think I will take him with me.” Xichen said, not yet wanting to abandon his new companion.
Sizhui nodded, and with one last glance a Jingyi, who shrugged, the two left for the residence halls of the Cloud Recesses.
--
Xichen was stabbed with another pang of guilt as he heard the voice coming from the Jingshi. “Lan Zhan, what did you even eat in Yunmeng if even this soup is too spicy for you? I spent all day trying to make it as bland as possible.”
“You did not spend all day on this,” said the voice that had brought him out of seclusion, the voice of his brother. Xichen felt his heart clench at the sound, at the hint of a teasing tone in his voice. Wangji sounded so happy.
If he had not brought Sizhui with him, he might have lost his nerve right there, and tried to return the way he came. His brother was ok without him - happy, even. Who was he to interrupt that?
But Sizhui had already knocked on the door. Lan Xichen stroked the rabbit’s head nervously, shifting to the side so that the younger man would be the first one seen when the door opened.
“I’ll get it!” the louder of the two occupants shouted, never one to think twice about the Lan Clan rules before reacting. The other occupant seemed to take the interruption of their soup conversation as an invitation to begin playing the guqin.
“Thank you, Sizhui.” Xichen whispered.
“My fathers will be so happy to see you.” Came the reply, with a gentle hand on his shoulder.
My fathers. Xichen was glad to hear the words fall so naturally from the boy’s mouth. Things had changed while he was in seclusion. For the better in this case at least, it seemed.
The doors slid open.
“Sizhui! What a…!” Wei Wuxian’s energetic greeting was cut off as he saw the second person standing by the door. The black-robed man’s gaze flickered down to the rabbit, but quickly back to his guest’s face.
“Wei Wuxian. I am glad to see you are well.” At the sound of Lan Xichen’s gentle voice, the guqin cut out abruptly. While Xichen could not see the part of the Jingshi where the guqin was located, he heard the flutter of cloth that told him his brother had stood up.
Wei Wuxian pulled Lan Xichen into the room, the latter still hugging the small rabbit. Sizhui followed. “Lan Zhan, look who it is!” Wei Wuxian indicated, although Wangji already knew very well who it was. Wangji was already facing his brother, his blink, the slight narrowing of his eyes, the barely open mouth denoted his surprise better than any words might.
“Xichen.”
“Wangji.”
The silence that followed was finally broken by Sizhui, who offered to go get some tea for everyone.
“Good idea Sizhui.” Wei Wuxian was still smiling, but his voice had acquired the tone reserved for situations he felt were worthy of his full attention. Wei Wuxian sat at the table, indicating that Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji should join him. The Twin Jades complied, Xichen sitting gently so as not to disturb the rabbit, which had fallen asleep. Lan Xichen noted that Wei Wuxian seemed quite at home in the Jingshi.
What was Wei Wuxian to his brother now? His brother’s… boyfriend? Husband? Lan Xichen wasn’t sure how much had happened since the Guanyin Temple, but after seeing how long these two were able to draw out the process of finally acknowledging their attraction to each other, he didn’t know whether to expect that they’d moved quickly since then, or if they’d continued at their snail’s pace approach to acknowledging their deepening relationship. Looking at the openly worried look Wei Wuxian sent his brother’s way, and, even more meaningfully, the reassuring smile Lan Wangji returned, Xichen was reminded more of a loving, married couple rather than the nervous new couple he had feared they might still be.
It was quiet until Sizhui returned with the tea. After placing the tray down and pouring a cup for each of three men, Sizhui said, “I will excuse myself.” He bowed and backed out of the room, seeming to understand that whatever this first conversation was, it was not going to be the kind of family reunion that he should be involved in.
The Jingshi continued to live up to its name. Wei Wuxian watched Lan Wangji, who stared at his brother, who was focused on his tea.
“Wangji…” Xichen started, still not looking up, “I am sorry. I have been… irresponsible.” He didn’t dare to look up, since any reaction on his brother’s face would likely render him unable to keep talking, “You seem well. The Cloud Recesses seem well. I am sorry you had to do this alone.”
“I am not alone.” From anyone else, this would have been a rude interruption. But from Wangji, Xichen knew it was a gentle factual correction, and moreover, one intended to reassure.
Xichen looked up towards Wei Wuxian, an easier step than meeting his brother’s eyes. It took more effort than usual, but Xichen was able to form what he hoped looked like one of his gentler smiles, “Yes. I can see that.” Wei Wuxian returned the Clan Leader’s gaze, expression neutral, waiting to see how Lan Xichen would react. Xichen went on, “I am glad you seem to have found a way to be together, here.”
Wei Wuxian relaxed at these words, his characteristic smirk emerging on his face, “Old Qiren needed a bit of convincing, but our love won him over in the end.” He batted his eyes in an exaggerated way at Wangji. While still not able to look directly at him, Lan Xichen could just tell that Wangji would be rolling his eyes at this behaviour. Wei Wuxian turned back to Xichen, “He couldn’t really say no after we eloped, now could he?” Wei Wuxian reached for his… his husband’s hand. Lan Xichen laughed aloud. Of course those two would do something as dramatic as that.
“I’m happy to hear it.” Lan Xichen smiled.
“Xichen.” Wangji’s even tone re-centred the conversation on the real news that day, “You have returned.”
His husband and his brother, the only two men in the world who could have done so, detected the faint pleading note in Wangji’s plain statement. Lan Xichen couldn’t help but turn to his little brother, “I am,” he said, just as simply.
Wangji and his husband exchanged a look that told Xichen he would not be let off that easily.
“Zewu-Jun,” Wei Wuxian ventured gently, “You have been in seclusion for seven years. We should talk about that.”
“Has it been that long?” Xichen replied vaguely, “I suppose that seems right…” The number was jarring, to be sure, but nothing next to his father’s life long seclusion, or Wangji’s 16 years of recovery and searching for the man who now sat next to him. The Juniors’ aging certainly fit that timeline.
“Xichen.” His brother’s voice again. He had gotten lost in thought, unused to the ebb and flow of conversation, “How are you?”
An interesting question, to be sure. One Xichen didn’t quite know the answer to. He was happy everyone else was doing well, he was certainly glad to see sunlight, to sip tea with his brother again, but there was something about all this that felt off. This life he was trying to return to - to him it felt like returning to a dream, one that had ended as a nightmare, but had seemed to move along perfectly pleasantly without him.
Something dropped on the back of his hand, the one still petting the rabbit. He looked down. Had he somehow spilled some tea? But it was not hot…
“Xichen.” Wangji’s voice was even softer this time and Xichen looked up to him, surprised to find the image blurred. More drops on his hand. He was crying.
He set his cup of tea down and smoothly wiped the tears out from under his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m fine, really.”
“Clearly.” Wei Wuxian said, sarcastically, but not unkindly.
Lan Xichen attempted a smile, but it was too watery to come across as stable as he wanted it to, “It will be… difficult… to adjust, I am sure. I am only sorry to not have come back sooner, to have avoided my responsibilities as Clan Leader for so long.”
“I missed you because you are my brother, not because you are my Clan Leader.” Wangji said bluntly.
Lan Xichen’s expression turned to a smile, unintentionally for the first time in seven years.
“Wangji… thank you,” was all Xichen could manage. Then, after a moment of collecting his thoughts, “I am sorry, even if you have coped very well, you have suffered so much because of me.”
At Wangji’s confused expression, Xichen went on, needing to air all of this out now, or he felt it would slowly destroy him from within. “You have been without me, without a Clan Leader. Even though you and Uncle are very capable, I should have been there. Especially,” he sighed, looking down to the rabbit, “especially since so much of what you must have had to deal with was because of me to begin with.”
“Zewu-“ Wei Wuxian tried to interrupt, but Lan Xichen raised a hand, asking for, and receiving, the space to explain.
“Wei Wuxian, you too deserve my deepest apologies. I trust my brother, trust his judgment, and yet, despite everything he told me about you, telling me that I should trust you, that A-“ he cut himself off from using a term that felt too affectionate, even if the alternative felt unnatural “that Jin… Guangyao was behind so much of this.”
Wei Wuxian was the first to answer, shaking his head and resting his cheek on one hand, “You couldn’t have known. You wanted to investigate before passing judgment on an ally. From my perspective, that’s a rare and valuable instinct to have.”
Lan Xichen swallowed, and nodded, still not looking up.
“You miss him.” Both Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian looked at Lan Wangji in surprise. “Wh-“ Wei Wuxian started, before a sharp look from his husband made him think better of whatever he had been about to say.
Lan Xichen picked the cup up again, tapping nervously at the edge, “I should not. He was a… a monster.”
“Should has nothing to do with it,” was his brother’s immediate response, “He was dear to you. You lost him. You miss him.”
“Perhaps, but…” his eyes welled up with tears again, “he is dead because of me. I killed him.”
“No, you didn’t,” Wei Wuxian said, sitting up and leaning forward across the table, “In that moment you were about as in control of your actions as a puppet.” Wei Wuxian’s harsh gaze dared Xichen to contradict him, to argue that a puppet, or that someone manipulated by another, should take the blame for the outcome.
“Besides,” Wei Wuxian went on, more casually, “I still think, even after everything that happened, I think he really did care about you. He was a…” he looked to Wangji, perhaps thinking back to other conversations the spouses had shared over the years, “complicated man.” Wei Wuxian finished simply.
“He was a monster.” Xichen repeated this fact, one that had echoed in his mind for the last seven years.
“He did monstrous things, for sure, but I don’t think he, or anyone else, is as simple as that, do you?”
Lan Xichen looked up in confusion. Was Wei Wuxian of all people trying to excuse A-Yao’s actions?
“Don’t get me wrong,” Wei Wuxian had understood Xichen’s expression, “I despise the man. I’m just saying that you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself if you feel more than that.”
Xichen nodded, “Thank you,” he said, then after considering what Wei Wuxian said for a moment, “Could he have been helped? Redeemed even, if I had not stabbed him then?”
A deep sigh from Wei Wuxian, “I told you not to blame yourself for that. That was not your fault. But anyway…”
“He is gone, Xichen. We will never know whether he could have been redeemed.” Wangji was firm, leaving no room for protest.
Xichen frowned, “I am just… sorry that it was my hand that made any hope of redemption impossible.”
“I doubt even he would blame you for that. He’d dug himself into a hole by that point. He might have preferred to die by the hand of someone he knew than by some anonymous executioner, or by wasting away in prison.” Wei Wuxian’s grim expression turned to a grin, “And if it makes you feel better, I’m sure he understood that it was an accident. And hell, I’m still on pretty good terms with people who have stabbed me on purpose.”
“Wei Ying!” his husband scolded.
Wei Wuxian laughed, and despite the uncouth nature of his joke, Lan Xichen couldn’t help but laugh along with him.
“Sorry, sorry!” Wei Wuxian shrugged, still laughing, “It’s still true though. And you’re not exactly someone hard to forgive.” Unlike me was the unspoken tail end of that. Wangji touched his husband’s shoulder gently.
“We forgive you. We care about you. You are not ok. That’s ok. But you will be.” Wangji summarized.
And he was right. Lan Xichen would be ok. With the help, love, and forgiveness of his family and his clan, the world went on, as it always had, and as it always would.