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It had been thirteen years since Lan Wangji’s heart last beat.
Thirteen years since it stuttered and died in his chest, bringing such tremendous grief down on his shredded shoulders that he wanted to scream until every creature from the heavens to the underworld could hear his pain and rage.
After his wounds had healed, he devoted his life to raising A-Yuan, given the name Sizhui, and helping anyone in need.
The world had shifted into a monotonous view of grey, the colors that once appeared vibrant in his eyes draining of life each day that he woke up to a heart that no longer beat. The one who had given his world such light, the one who had brought his heart to life upon their first meeting, was long gone.
Since that day, he felt like nothing but a hollow shell.
He went on night hunts, following the chaos and saving as many as he could. He taught the juniors of his sect, caring for each one of his students and striving to help them succeed.
He stayed away from sect politics; a part of him never truly forgave the sects involved in the siege against his soulmate. The cultivators who praised his use of the demonic arts when it benefited them and then laid siege against him when he did not do exactly what they wanted.
Rather than help him when he needed it, they turned their backs on him and planned his death.
And so, Lan Wangji didn’t interact with them unless he needed to.
His life without the one who made his heart beat was cold and lonely. The years passed, the only way that signaled the moving of time was watching Sizhui mature into a kind and respectful young man. Lan Wangji was so proud of who his son was becoming and he wished that his Wei Ying could see how the little boy he had cared for had grown.
A sparkling flare of the Gusu Lan sect symbol brought him to Mo village, flying as quickly as he dared to assist his juniors.
The demonic hand escaped, leaving a family dead and Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi tell him of a supposedly insane man that disappeared before he arrived. He didn’t think much of it, joining in their hunt of the hand to Dafan Mountain.
Seeing Jiang Wanyin left a bitter taste in his mouth every time they crossed paths. It was wrong of Lan Wangji to hold the past against someone but he couldn’t keep himself from doing so anyway, remembering the way that Wei Ying’s eyes would fill with sorrow and his smile became strained at the thought of the man that was once his adopted brother.
He didn’t feel any regret in destroying the hundreds of nets Jiang Wanyin had set up for his nephew, taking a hidden satisfaction in the way his face twisted into a furious scowl as he glared back at him.
He stormed off, Jin Ling stomping away as well with a similar temper, leaving Lan Wangji to give Sizhui and Jingyi their instructions before turning to the final person in the clearing. He wore black and red, a heartbreakingly familiar combination, his hair tied up into a bun.
Their eyes met.
Thump.
He nearly collapsed, his hand clutching at his robes over where his long dead heart had just beat. The other man was in a similar state of shock, his eyes wide as he gasped and brought his hand to his own chest.
What was happening?
One’s heart only beat when they met their soulmate, stopping only when they died. Which Lan Wangji’s did, thirteen years ago. So what was happening?
There was only one plausible reason and the mere possibility of it being true left him breathless.
“Wei Ying?” he whispered, staring at the unfamiliar face across the clearing. Wide grey eyes watched him back, and though it was someone else’s features, the shocked expression looking back at him looked so familiar.
“Lan Zhan,” the voice a breathy whisper but Lan Wangji could hear it loud and clear. His heart raced in his chest, emotion coursing through his veins with every strong beat and slowly, the greys that had consumed his world drained away.
Color infused his surroundings as he realized the soul in front of him was Wei Ying, his Wei Ying.
He had returned to him.
He didn’t know how or whose body he inhabited but all he could think was that his other half was with him once more. Slowly, he walked forward, drawn by an invisible pull to get closer to the man before him. Wei Ying was shorter than him in this body, grey eyes staring up at him as Lan Wangji raised his hands to hover just over his face.
“It’s you?” he murmured, feeling his impassive mask slip away more and more with the warm beat in his chest. He had missed it so much that it hurt, every second without its comfort safe in his ribcage.
“It’s me, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying answered, his voice just as quiet as his own and Lan Wangji felt a small, but true smile pull on his lips. Wei Ying stared at them in wonder and he vowed that he would smile as often as he could if only to see that look in Wei Ying’s eyes.
Lan Wangji leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Wei Ying’s, his forehead ribbon caught between the two.
His soul was finally complete once again, two hearts beating together forever.