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Of course, it’s Jin Ling’s fault.

When Jiang Cheng visits Lanling as the dust from Jin Guangyao’s death settles, Jin Ling quietly asks if he can travel to Gusu to visit the disciples there. Perhaps snapping that Jin Ling was a sect leader and should make his own decisions was not the best response, as Jin Ling’s lower lip begins to tremble and his eyes begin to water. Jiang Cheng quickly acquiesces, and even agrees to accompany him. When Jin Ling’s expression instantly clears, Jiang Cheng gets the distinct impression that he has been played.
That impression deepens when they depart, and Fairy does not come with them.
“Jin Ling.”
“Yes, Uncle?” Jin Ling doesn’t even look at him, staring calmly ahead as they ride from Lanling’s gates.
“Why aren’t you bringing your wonder dog.” It’s less a question and more a demand for an explanation. Any explanation that isn’t the one he thinks it is.
“I have someone to talk to.”
“You do,” he says flatly. Please, he thinks, not him.
“Yes. And so do you.”
“I do not.”
That makes Jin Ling look at him, his face twisting into a scowl. “Liar,” he hisses, before snapping the reins and trotting ahead.
Jiang Cheng does not remember Jin Ling being this impertinent. Or manipulative. He swears under his breath, and forces himself to accept that his nephew, for some unfathomable reason, wants to speak to Wei Wuxian.
A soft, gentle voice in his head chides him, saying he also wants to speak to Wei Wuxian. He ignores it.

-

The trip to Gusu is tiring, but uneventful. Jin Ling had remembered to send word that they were coming, so they are greeted at the entry gate by Lan Wangji and a number of Lan disciples. Jiang Cheng recognizes one of them as part of the pair Jin Ling had been talking to on the pier. He releases a breath when he sees it is the one who had been laughing, not the one who had been talking to Wen Ning. Next to him, Jin Ling is straining to see the faces of the disciples behind Lan Wangji, clearly looking for someone. Jiang Cheng bows to Lan Wangji and elbows Jin Ling so he remembers to do the same.
“Your Excellency.”
“Sect Leader Jiang. Sect Leader Jin,” comes Lan Wangji’s smooth, even voice.
T hey stiffly follow as the greeting party brings them to the guest quarters. Lan Wangji asks he and Jin Ling to join him for tea when they are settled. It is obviously merely a polite gesture- Jiang Cheng has had tea several times with Lan Wangji, and none of them had been pleasant. He drags his nephew to Lan Wangji’s elegant office near the classrooms, fighting down a pang of nostalgia as they pass a lecture. They are cordially greeted by the disciple Jiang Cheng recognized, who scowls at Jin Ling after bowing. Jin Ling makes some rude gesture back before they are ushered in, leaving Jiang Cheng bewildered by the exchange.
They are received graciously, but the conversation is stilted and awkward. Soon, Jin Ling begins to fidget, tugging at his sleeves and running his fingers over the pendant on his belt.
“Jin Ling, I would like to speak to His Excellency alone.” Lan Wangji inclines his head in what Jiang Cheng chooses to interpret as acceptance, and his nephew looks visibly relieved. He stands, bows to them both, and tries to leave the room without looking like he’s flustered. When the door closes, Jiang Cheng can hear him immediately berate the disciple who’d been standing outside before his voice drifts off.
They sit in awkward silence, Jiang Cheng staring at the wall while Lan Wangji looks at the floor. He tries to gather the strength to explain what he is doing here, something he has to force out both for Lan Wangji and himself.
“I am here to see Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng says as calmly as he possibly can, putting his bland tea down. He doesn’t miss how Lan Wangji’s hands clench where they rest on the white of his robes.
“He is gone.”
Something in Jiang Cheng’s chest, long ignored and pushed into a corner, shatters once again. “Gone?” He straightens his posture, as if that will cover up how choked his voice sounds.
“Travelling,” Lan Wangji clarifies. The thing in his chest pulls together, but remains a knot hard above his heart. The concern is burning through his skin, so Jiang Cheng covers it with anger, as he normally does. “You forced him out?” he hisses through clenched teeth, “Made him leave, alone?”
Lan Wangji’s answer is cold like the wind coming off the mountains in the winter. “He chose.”
Jiang Cheng feels himself freeze with anger welling up, drowning his need to know more. He forces it down; even he accepts that the famed Hanguang-Jun wouldn’t lie, and it is a choice Wei Wuxian would make. To escape the fallout, to wander aimlessly, to be free. As always, to do what he wanted, without a regard for anyone else.
“How long?”
“Two months.”
That meant Wei Wuxian had spent barely two weeks recovering after being stabbed and held at string point in the temple. Normally, that would be enough time to rest. But without- Jiang Cheng’s mind skips around the thought, but he plunges through it- without a golden core, he might not have been fully healed. He studies Lan Wangji’s icy features, the dark eyes cast ever downward in his presence. Bichen sits idly on the table, its scabbard gleaming in the light filtering through the curtains. He remembers the speed and anger with which Lan Wangji had turned that sword on him in Lotus Pier, even while supporting Wei Wuxian with his other arm. Jiang Cheng admits, privately, that Lan Wangji would never let Wei Wuxian leave while seriously injured. He sighs, feeling the anger ebb slowly down.
“I haven’t seen Lan…” He wracks his brain for the name. Jin Ling had told him, said Lan Wangji was unusually close to the boy. “Sizhui. Are they together?”
Lan Wangji shakes his head slowly. “No. Sizhui is travelling with- another.”
“And Lan Xichen…” he trails off, unsure what had happened to the man, weeks after he’d killed his sworn brother.
“Remains in seclusion.”
A sudden thought strikes Jiang Cheng. As usual, he blurts it out before he’s finished processing it. “You’re alone.”
Lan Wangji’s eyes, for the first time since he’d arrived, flick to his face. He doesn’t say anything, but for once emotion Jiang Cheng can actually see crosses his features. It’s all Jiang Cheng needs to know he is right. Lan Wangji has been left alone.
They finish their tea in complete silence.

-

Jin Ling needles him until he agrees to stay at least a week, so his nephew can spend time with his friends. The rumors are all accurate, of course. Jin Ling is incredibly spoiled, but Jiang Cheng can’t find it in his heart to do anything about it. So they stay.

-

Cloud Recesses is not a private place. It is quiet, due to its excessive number of rules, so loud voices carry across the open walkways and wide courtyards. Most often, the peace of the complex is destroyed by Lan Jingyi and Jin Ling. Today is no different; Jiang Cheng grimaces as he hears his nephew’s voice drifting over the lacquered wood. He immediately heads toward the sound, ready to pull him from Lan Jingyi for the fourth time this week. As he nears, however, he finds he can’t hear Jingyi’s normal retorts, even as Jin Ling keeps talking.
“Fairy is a wonderful dog, the best dog! I usually bring him with me everywhere, but…”
Jiang Cheng spots Jin Ling across the courtyard as he rounds the corner of one of the walkways, flinging his hair over his shoulder as he talks. To Jiang Cheng’s horror, Lan Wangji immediately comes into view after him, one hand folded neatly behind his back as he listens. He says something, too quiet for Jiang Cheng to hear as he plasters himself, feeling ridiculous, behind a pillar and out of sight.
“But, ah, he’s afraid of dogs, so I left him at home this time,” says Jin Ling quietly, the pout forming in his words as well as his face.
“Hm. I am sorry you left Fairy for no reason, then.”
Jin Ling huffs. “It’s nothing. Fairy will be there when I return.”
“Do you have other dogs?”
“No. Wonder dogs are hard to find and train. I keep asking Uncle for another, but he says no.”
Lan Wangji does not respond, but Jin Ling watches slight tilt of Lang Wangji’s head and takes it as a queue to continue.
“I think he’s convinced I won’t be able to train it myself. As if! I’m more than capable of training a wonder dog, and it would be the smartest and most obedient dog!”
Jiang Cheng swears that for a moment, the ghost of a smile crosses Lan Wangji’s face at his nephew’s expense.
“I have no doubt,” that smooth voice says, betraying nothing. Jin Ling doesn’t seem to notice Lan Wangji’s brief amusement, waving his arms as he keeps talking. They’re leaving the pavilion now, heading towards the dining area. 
“And Jiang Cheng doesn’t even have any dogs! What does he know about training one! There aren’t any dogs at Lotus Pier!”
Lan Wangji’s response is lost to the wind as the two of them disappear from Jiang Cheng’s view.

-

After dinner, Lan Wangji walks up to him without apparent reason.
“Jin Ling informed me there are no dogs at Lotus Pier.”
Jiang Cheng tries to avoid looking startled. He wonders if he’s about to be called out for eavesdropping, which is certainly against the principles of Cloud Recesses. Refusing to be embarrassed in public, he squares his shoulders, preparing for a fight.
“Yeah? It’s of no importance to you.”
Lan Wangji’s eye twitches, ever so slightly. “Strange,” is all he says.
“How is it strange?” Jiang Cheng immediately hops on the defensive. “There haven’t been dogs at Lotus Pier for years. Not since-” Not since Jiang Fengman made him send them away. Not since Wei Wuxian had arrived.
Lan Wangji watches him carefully, his dark eyes flitting over Jiang Cheng’s face in a way that is uncomfortably evaluative. He does his best to stare blankly back, ignoring how awkwardly he’d cut off his last sentence.
Lan Wangji only hums slightly, before inclining his head politely and leaving.
Jiang Cheng feels as though he has missed something very important.

-

A Lan disciple informs him late in the week that Lan Wangji has requested his presence in his office in the next hour. Since he was woken up by the call, and disoriented, Jiang Cheng has to hurry to the meeting. As soon as he enters, Lan Wangji’s voice rings from the back. “Late.”
Jiang Cheng wants to break the door in half. Lan Wangji motions for him to sit before he can form a response through his anger, so he lands on the floor in a huff.
“What is it?” he snaps.
“Trouble. A border dispute, one that could harm Yunmeng.”
Jiang Cheng leans forward. “How so? War?”
A head shake. “Trade.”
Border disputes could disrupt trade routes coming into Yunmeng. If fighting broke out, it could destroy merchant houses and the routes would never be reestablished. Jiang Cheng sighs. “Do you have more information?”
“It is coming. This afternoon.”
“Hmm. Then I’ll have to come back for another meeting, then. After the lectures end, maybe.”
Lan Wangji nods. “There is something else.”
Jiang Cheng waits for him to continue, but he doesn’t. He rolls his eyes. “Right, well, what is it?”
“Reports of a spirit, not far from here.”
“Why are you telling me about this? Can’t Gusulan deal with one lousy spirit?”
“I thought Jin Ling could accompany Lan Jingyi.”
“What? Why?”
“Jin Ling complains he no longer has time for night hunts.”
Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes again. “He complains about everything.” But it was true Jin Ling was particularly sore about the night hunts. “And why Lan Jingyi? They hate each other.”
Lan Wangji gives him a strange look, then. “They would work well together.”
“Yeah, if they don’t stab each other first. But fine, it would be good for Jin Ling.”
When he takes his leave, he goes to find Jin Ling, who is ecstatic at being told to go on a night hunt. Even when Jiang Cheng tells him to take Lan Jingyi, his eyes shine with excitement. He soon scurries off to tell Lan Jingyi himself, leaving Jiang Cheng behind, watching him in confusion.

-

He stamps into Lan Wangji’s office six minutes before their afternoon meeting is set to begin. A voice that sounds too much like Yanli’s chides him gently for being petty, but he ignores it in favor of staring at Lan Wangji, who is regarding him coolly from behind his desk. They stand there, silent and still, until Lan Wangji dips his head in greeting.
“I must finish this. Then I will attend to you,” he says calmly before turning back to his writing. Jiang Cheng burns with anger and something that might be shame. He remains standing, looking about the simple, neat decorations around the room. There is another desk, he notices, pushed into a corner with closed box on top of it. Clearly unused, but not removed, for whatever reason. His eyes catch on Lan Wangji as the man stands, rolling his letter and using a talisman to shrink it. They make brief and uncomfortable eye contact as Lan Wangji moves past him to another room, and Jiang Cheng can hear the cooing of pigeons.
Lan Wangji safely out of sight, Jiang Cheng drops unceremoniously before the desk. It’s neat, as expected, a stack of papers put to one side and a pile of books on the other. He politely keeps his eyes from the papers- he really shouldn’t look at the Chief Cultivator’s letters, though with a pang he thinks about how Wei Wuxian would have already been rifling through the stack- to focus on the books. He peers at the pile and starts as he notices one is not well-bound like the others. He tugs at the offending book, which is hardly more than a few papers haphazardly tied together with string. Freeing it from the pile, he sees the cover simply has a rabbit drawn on it. He flips through the pages and his heart nearly stops when he sees familiar sloppy characters dancing across the paper. Choosing a page randomly, he reads, “Dear [name], I am writing to thank you for your generous-” Jiang Cheng sighs, and skims through a few more pages. They’re all generic templates for writing letters of all kinds, from congratulations to condolences. Different pages include various descriptions and words of praise which can be swapped out as needed.
Perfect for a poor communicator new to politics.
Lan Wangji is not exactly a poor communicator, his every interaction with others, except maybe Jiang Cheng, being formal and polite to a fault, but his silences and formality tend to lead to discomfort. Especially in politics, there is significant room to misinterpret him or miss his meaning. Hanguang-Jun is quiet and stubborn, unlike his brother, firmly sticking to his principles. He must struggle to make his points in the whirlwind of the cultivation world, especially with frivolous things such as thank yous and invitations.
Lan Wangji returns, noticing Jiang Cheng holding the templates but seating himself without comment. Jiang Cheng sighs, waving the packet a bit.
“He made me one too.” He doesn’t mention that he’d burned it within a week of the rout at Nightless City, or that he’d nearly started a trade war with Yao Clan immediately after due to what Sect Leader Yao had called his “uncouth and disrespectful communication.” He’d spent months trying to remember the templates, the phrases Wei Wuxian had taught him right after the Sunshot Campaign, in between the long absences and the lapses into drink. Wei Wuxian had always had a way with words, even if he rarely chose to say what would be considered acceptable. He had also had a way with deflections, with omissions. Jiang Cheng wonders, not for the first time, what else Wei Wuxian had been hiding from him all those years.
Lan Wangji says nothing, waiting in silence while Jiang Cheng breathes through the sudden rush of emotion. He lays the book back down in the pile. Lan Wangji nods slowly, as if in understanding.
He pulls a map out from under the table and spreads it across the desk. Jiang Cheng leans forward as Lan Wangji begins to explain the border dispute threatening to shut down trade to Yunmeng. Jiang Cheng jumps in to fill in missing details, and then they attempt to hammer out details of a compromise to be presented to the two clan leaders.
It’s the longest and most productive conversation they’ve ever had.

-

Lan Wangji suggests that Jin Ling be summoned to the meeting when they are finished debating, as practice for his role as sect leader. Jiang Cheng found himself agreeing, and soon the three of them were crowded around the map on Lan Wangji’s desk. Jiang Cheng watches as Lan Wangji explains the situation, slowly and clearly, to Jin Ling, answering his questions with thorough and politically-neutral responses. He does not pass judgement or include pieces of idle gossip, sticking strictly to the facts at hand. Jin Ling hangs on his every word, and easily asks for clarification and advice. No wonder the Lan disciples, and apparently his nephew, have so much respect for Lan Wangji. Jin Ling draws up his own solution, and they compare it to what Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng had agreed on earlier. With the two parts side by side, Lan Wangji allows Jin Ling to help him compose the compromises and even accepts Jiang Cheng’s additions.
“Well done,” Lan Wangji says to Jin Ling as he seals the letters with wax.
Jin Ling dips his head to hide his blush. Jiang Cheng pats him on the shoulder.
“Well done indeed.”

-

The Cloud Recesses is beautiful in the day, but it is made gorgeous by the moonlight. The white curtains and pebbles stand in stark contrast to the dark wood that gleams with the light of the stars. The noise of the insects is muted by the fabrics hanging outside, and the sound of running water can be faintly heard from the edges of the compound. Jiang Cheng indulges himself in wandering the courtyards after curfew, when the Lan disciples have all dispersed.
The peace is shattered by the warring voices of Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi. Jiang Cheng has half a mind to scold them for being out after curfew. Another part of him wants to scold them for their absolute failure to be sneaky about it. He ignores that second instinct and follows the voices to the hillside near the Cold Spring.
“It’s just- I don’t know. I have no idea what I’d say.”
“Hanguang-Jun says if you can’t express yourself, then say nothing,” Lan Jingyi responds, his voice unusually serious.
“That’s stupid advice.”
“It is not! Don’t disparage him!”
“Well, then how are people supposed to know what you feel!”
“But if you aren’t prepared, you won’t say what you mean.”
Jin Ling goes silent at that.
“Isn’t it better to wait and say something right then rush in and say the wrong thing?”
A snort. “You’re one to talk.”
“Hey!”
“But I- I can’t just leave it like this. I have to say something.”
Lan Jingyi hums, barely audible over the crickets. But his answer is loud and clear. “Why not… write it?”
“What, like a letter?”
“Yeah, then you can take as many tries as you want! And get it right.”
“I could do that…”
“And I could hold it for you until he gets back.”
“No,” Jin Ling snaps instantly. “You’d lose it, or- or read it and-”
“I wouldn’t read your private correspondence,” Lan Jingyi almost snarls. “That’s against the principles.”
“Like you even know the Lan principles.”
“I know them by heart!”
“Why, because you’re punished with copying them so often?”
“You-” There’s the sound of Jin Ling being hit (gently) on the arm. Jiang Cheng privately admits it is a very satisfying sound.
“Ow!”
“You started it!”
The two of them descend into an argument over who started it, and Jiang Cheng is about to leave when they quiet down again.
Jin Ling’s voice breaks the quiet, its timbre soft and hesitant. “Sizhui will be back, right?”
“Of course. Probably soon, based on what Hanguang-Jun says.”
“And… he’ll also be back?”
Lan Jingyi’s voice softens too. “Yeah. He’ll be back.”
Jiang Cheng turns and hurries across the quiet landscape of the Cloud Recesses, stubbornly ignoring the burning in his chest.

-

Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi set off the next morning, bickering their way down the mountain. Jiang Cheng stands with Lan Wangji as the pair disappears, their forms out of sight long before their voices stop echoing up the mountainside. Turning, he finds Lan Wangji is looking at him, something that might be amusement in his eyes. Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes for effect.
“Kids,” is all he says, which is a stupid thing to say. It doesn’t actually mean anything beyond stating the obvious.
But Lan Wangji nods solemnly, as if he’d spoken some great truth, and they walk back up the stairs, side by side.

-

The truce, of course, cannot last. They spend a full day in relative peace as the border dispute situation updates. Their compromise appears to be a success, requiring only a few minor changes. The relief is shattered the next morning, when Jiang Cheng hunts for Lan Wangji in order to run over the final version of the compromise before sending it.  
He’s directed to a back corner of Cloud Recesses, where a small, secluded house sits surrounded by bamboo. It’s quiet, even more so than in the rest of Cloud Recesses, where the bustle of life could be heard. Lan Wangji is standing on the porch, reading a letter. He’s smiling slightly, but that fades when he notices Jiang Cheng approach.
They bow to each other politely. Golden eyes cross his face before sliding off to the surrounding forest.
“Is that… is it from him?” He’s trying very hard to not snarl as he asks.
Lan Wangji says nothing in response, but eventually gives one of his miniscule nods.
“How is he.” It’s too flat to be a real question, but Lan Wangji doesn’t comment.
Well. He is traveling, dispersing spirits. Helping others.”
Jiang Cheng huffs. “Always trying to play the hero, of course. And doing all that without a golden core! What a fucking martyr.”
Lan Wangji’s eyes narrow, but his face remains smooth as he watches the wind sift through the bamboo. It’s infuriating. That composure makes Jiang Cheng want to smash his face into the ground, to tear that letter to shreds. Because of course Wei Wuxian is writing to him. To Gusu, rather than Lotus Pier.
“Did you know?” he snaps, trying to make his tone sharp enough to get Lan Wangji to look at him. It works, and Jiang Cheng immediately regrets it when he’s faced with a mask of stone. Lan Wangji does not reply.
“About the core transfer,” Jiang Cheng finishes weakly.
Lan Wangji shakes his head, once. “I… suspected.”
He might boil out of his skin. Zidian sparks on his fingers.
“The loss,” Lan Wangji corrects himself. “Not the connection to you.”
That makes Jiang Cheng freeze in place. Lan Wangji had noticed and he hadn’t? He thinks bitterly of Wei Wuxian’s flippancy and carelessness after the Sunshot Campaign, how his brother had completely neglected his sect duties. Where had Lan Wangji fallen into that? How often had Wei Wuxian confided in him instead of his own brother?
Something must be showing on his face because Lan Wangji’s lip is beginning to curl enough to see. A voice in the back of his head wonders if Lan Wangji had noticed because he’d cared more. Jiang Cheng ignores it and lashes out.
“So you noticed, and decided to do nothing about it? Let him suffer instead?” he snarls.
Lan Wangji’s mask had already been cracking; this breaks it.
“I helped him,” Lan Wangji hisses back.
Jiang Cheng huffs and rolls his eyes, and is caught off guard when Lan Wangji steps closer, his shoulders hunching in anger. Jiang Cheng remembers that face once directed at Wei Wuxian, remembers holding back that tension with his sword.
“During Sunshot. I sparred with him, discussed music with him. Composed songs to control the dead, the Yin Hu Fu. I fought for him at Nightless City. At the Burial Mounds.”
Jiang Cheng finds himself stepping backwards as Lan Wangji continues. “After Sunshot, you were done with him. A weapon,” he practically spits as he says it, “set aside after war.”
Zidian is coiling up his forearm now, the electricity snapping and crackling. Lan Wangji’s face is lit underneath by the purple light, but he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move his gaze from Jiang Cheng’s.
“And you tried to drag him to Gusu! What were you going to do, lock him up here?” There’s a flash of deep hurt on Lan Wangji’s face, and Jiang Cheng knows he’s struck something. “When he went to Yiling, did you even bother to speak to him? Or did you just abandon my brother?”
Lan Wangji’s response is deadly quiet. “You are not qualified to call him that.”
“Call him what? My brother?” Jiang Cheng can feel his chin lifting, his shoulders tensing for a fight. “That’s what he is.”
“Yunmeng Jiang renounced its claim to him.”
“So, what, does he belong to you now? Do you intend to chain him here?” Lan Wangji steps back and the rage on his face begins to collapse into pain. Jiang Cheng presses his advantage, finds himself shouting. “He’s not yours!”
There’s silence in the pavilion. Lan Wangji’s face twists with more emotion than Jiang Cheng has ever seen, before it settles back into his calm mask.
“He is not yours either.” The words are evenly spoken, clearly enunciated in that smooth voice Jiang Cheng hates more than anything else. He explodes.
“How isn’t he?! I grew up with him! I trained with him, I drank with him, I fought with him! I staged our fight for him, I brought A-jie to see him, I searched for him, I kept that fucking flute for him! I found him when he came back!” There are tears burning in the corners of his eyes, but Jiang Cheng refuses to cry in front of this man ever again.
Lan Wangji’s face has not shifted. “What about A-Yuan?”
The question throws Jiang Cheng off completely. “Who is that?” he says, bewildered by the sudden topic change. It’s the wrong answer, as Lan Wangji’s face darkens dangerously.
“Leave.”
Jiang Cheng opens his mouth and Bichen slides several inches out of its scabbard.
“Leave.”
Jiang Cheng leaves. He feels Lan Wangji’s eyes burning on his back until he rounds the corner.

-

Thankfully, he has no reason to speak to Lan Wangji for the next few days, and Lan Wangji seems to agree that they do not need to see each other. Lan Wangji rounds a corner and Jiang Cheng walks the other way. Lan Wangji heads to Caiyi Town and Jiang Cheng stays in Cloud Recesses; Lan Wangji leads a lecture and Jiang Cheng wanders the mountains. Their contact is blessedly reduced until Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi return from their night hunt three days later.
Jin Ling tells him excitedly about the spirits they had fought, boasting about how easily they had been defeated, even saying that he and Jingyi had worked well together. He huffs and eventually leaves when Jiang Cheng doesn’t respond to him. Jin Ling is already out the door when Jiang Cheng calls out to him.
“We’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? But I just got back, and Jingyi said-”
“Tomorrow.”
Jin Ling snaps his mouth shut and glares at him. Then he folds his arms and gives Jiang Cheng a look of such disapproval that Madam Yu would have been impressed.
“Fine,” he says snappishly, “We will leave so you don’t have to face Hanguang-Jun again.” Then he’s out of sight, and Jiang Cheng can hear him running despite the rule against it.

-

Jin Ling eats with Lan Jingyi and the other Lan disciples while Jiang Cheng asks for food to be brought to the guest room. They inform their disciples they will be leaving in the morning. Jin Ling is the one to talk to Lan Wangji about their departure.
In the morning, they gather their things and are seen off by Lan Wangji and Lan Jingyi. Jin Ling, much to Jiang Cheng’s surprise, promises to write. Lan Wangji raises a single eyebrow and Jin Ling immediately colors before bowing and thanking him for his hospitality. Jiang Cheng does not look at Lan Wangji, who does not look at him. He decides to be technically polite and bows after Jin Ling, receiving a silent bow in response. Finally, they leave.

When they’re out of Caiyi Town, Jin Ling rides up next to him.
“Uncle, what was that about?”
“None of your concern.”
“Jin Guangyao’s funeral was less awkward than that.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does! You’ll need to get along with Hanguang-Jun if you want to speak-”
“Don’t.”
For once, Jin Ling shuts up.

-

“Jin Ling.”
“What, Uncle.” Jin Ling is still pouting, apparently.
“Do you know someone named Yuan?”
“Oh, you mean Sizhui?” The mention of his friend is enough to break his anger for a moment. “Lan Yuan is his birth name.”
The name sounds wrong, somehow. Jiang Cheng can’t place where the discomfort is coming from.
“He’s friends with Lan Jingyi?”
“Yeah. He’s also-” here Jin Ling sneaks him a cautious side glance. “Hanguang-Jun’s son.”
This is my son, A-Yuan. I gave birth to him, you know.
Oh.

-

They return first to Lanling, then Jiang Cheng heads to Lotus Pier. Jin Ling doesn’t speak to him for weeks after the trip, and Jiang Cheng tries not to think too hard about it. He’s forced to see Lan Wangji at conferences and meetings, but they’re never alone, and they never speak more than greetings to each other. Jin Ling pointedly glares at him when he’s attending conferences, making eyes like Jiang Cheng should be making more of an effort. Jiang Cheng refuses to be chastised by his nephew, who has already started feuds with two minor clans since he’d become sect leader.
But then Lan Sizhui returns, to Jin Ling’s delight, and attends a conference with Lan Wangji. He is an attractive child in every way: elegant and refined like his father, but softened with kindness and empathy that the younger of the Twin Jades appears to lack. Jiang Cheng watches from across Lanling’s banquet hall as he smiles and nods at whatever Jin Ling is saying. Eventually, someone calls Jin Ling over and he politely disengages, leaving Lan Sizhui standing alone to the side.
Jiang Cheng had already gotten plenty of dirty looks from his nephew. He takes his chance and approaches.
“Lan Sizhui.”
“Sect Leader Jiang.”
The greetings are polite, but Jiang Cheng struggles through small talk about Lan Sizhui’s latest night hunt, his thoughts on the banquet, and his stay at Lanling. It makes him feel infinitely worse when he realizes how patient and understanding Lan Sizhui is. He never interrupts or appears disinterested, even though Jiang Cheng thinks it’s obvious the small talk is only to stall for time. He swallows, and forces himself to speak.
“You are… Lan Yuan, yes?”
Something in Lan Sizhui’s face twitches, but it’s gone in an instant. “Yes.”
“Hanguang-Jun’s…”
“Son. And Wei Wuxian’s son as well.” There’s no bite to the words, nothing behind the clear calmness. But Jiang Cheng watches his chin rise, ever so slightly, bracing for a fight. A fight Jiang Cheng is forcing himself to not start. Faced with the evenness of Lan Sizhui’s face, the mask of Lan discipline and displeasure, Jiang Cheng finds every word he had planned to say has fled.
“I’m your uncle,” is what he says, stupidly.
Lan Sizhui blinks, the Lan equivalent of a jaw drop. Then his face settles into something strange, which Jiang Cheng can’t read for the life of him.
“I do not feel comfortable calling you that,” says Lan Sizhui, slowly and carefully.
“Right.” Jiang Cheng nods, uselessly. “Of course.” I’m sorry crawls into his mouth, but he traps it behind clenched teeth.
“But… thank you for the sentiment.”
Jiang Cheng looks up at this kind, patient boy, who looks back with emotion swirling in his eyes. He stands before the son of two people who infuriate him more than anything else and he sees someone that should be his nephew. That perhaps can be, if he keeps trying.
“Sure.” He goes to take his leave, and Sizhui lets him escape without question. He can feel those eyes on him a moment longer before the scrutiny vanishes, and Jiang Cheng moves back into the banquet crowd. 

-

Several months later, Jiang Cheng receives a private letter from the Chief Cultivator. Wei Wuxian has returned to Cloud Recesses, and would be interested in seeing him. He would be remaining in Gusu for the indefinite future, but could travel to Lotus Pier, or maybe Lanling. Alternatively, Jin Ling was planning on staying for a week or so after the conference to be held in Gusu in two months. Jiang Cheng was welcome to join him.
Jiang Cheng stares at the neat handwriting for a very long time. He reads and rereads it again and again, holding the paper tight enough that it starts to curl where his fingers were. Eventually, he lets it go, and starts his reply.