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After the night is finally, finally over, after Wei Wuxian shakes bits of walking corpses from his hair and drags his sore ass all the way back to town and plops it down on a warm surface, after the townfolks thanks him and the children and the youth crowds around him to look at Suibian, the innkeeper - almost as an afterthought - asks him from which Sect he hails.

And Wei Wuxian's mind draws a blank.

In retrospect, he could have easily said that he is a rogue Cultivator - Not beholden to any clans nor obligations, venturing where the wind takes him. But at that precise moment, with several sets of round, excited eyes upon him, saying so would have felt like a letdown. Despite everything, the life of a rogue cultivator is never a particularly safe one, and if any of the young hopefuls before him ever wanted to walk the path of Cultivation, Wei Wuxian would prefer them to be safe under the protection and guidance of a proper Sect first (And then run away and be a rogue cultivator if it ever strikes their fancy!)

And so, as he often does when he is lost on what to do in this post-death life, he remembers Lan Zhan.

"The Chief Cultivator sent me, of course!" He grins widely, whipping up the jade token hanging off his belt. 

At once, the inn erupted in noise, a few gasps of "Hanguang-Jun?" in the crowd as they scramble to get a closer look at the token - Which, as Jingyi had remarked with suspiciously wide eyes, is in the exact same design as Lan Zhan's - a ray of light amongst the traditional cloud patterns carved into the jade.

An old woman shuffles to the front of the crowd, the people around her parting easily in deference as she fixes first the jade token, and then Wei Wuxian, with a firm, steady gaze. Wei Wuxian knows a small town Elder when he sees one and bows, low and reverent.

"We thought no one would come," she says simply, her voice not unkind - merely well-worn with years of hardships and acceptance. "Ours is such a small town, Young Master, and we have nothing of value to give. We thought…"

Wei Wuxian knows the feeling. The constant, steady weight of people depending on you - of lives that can so easily be lost or thrown into misery and the fact that the only thing you can do is to go on. The letter she sent must have been written in a particularly dire, desperate place. Even now, the townsfolk around them are haggard and thin, the youth and the eldery outnumbering the adults that the walking corpses had taken away.

"Ayi," he says gently, bowing his head again in the hope that she knows how he understands "Small or big, that has never been a matter for Hanguang-Jun - where the chaos is, that's where he'll be. He would have loved to be here himself, but the duties of the Chief Cultivator are many…"

"And so you are where the chaos is, in his stead," the old woman finishes for him, a small smile finally blooming on the weathered lines of her face. 

"Exactly."

**

The thing is, Lan Zhan did send him there.

Well, kind of.

It goes a bit like this : In the end, it only took Wei Wuxian four months to come back to Gusu - A strange, almost surreal summer where he went everywhere and nowhere at all before he found himself exactly where he started, on that hill that borders Gusu with the world. 

Lan Zhan didn't question him, didn't ask how long he'd stay, merely welcomed him and let Wei Wuxian weave himself into the orderly tapestry that is Lan Zhan's life. For a full month, Wei Wuxian lounges around the library, dodges Lan Qiren's increasingly resigned glares, supervises the older disciples on talisman classes and night hunts, and helps Lan Zhan with the mountain of paperworks and letters that apparently comes with the title of Chief Cultivator.

"Lan Zhan, this is a ridiculous amount of nonsense!" Wei Wuxian had declared to Lan Zhan and the world at large, after encountering the third invitation for one inane noble's gathering that night.

Lan Zhan had given him a noncommittal hum, or what the other man probably thought was noncommittal, because Wei Wuxian has carefully catalogued Lan Zhan's surprisingly extensive collection of hums over two lifetimes and that one had definitely been one of unspoken agreement.

"It is necessary," Lan Zhan had said, finally, in what would have been accompanied by a shrug were he a lesser man. Wei Wuxian knew that, of course, had after all grown up helping sort through the same kind of letters for Uncle Jiang, lest Jiang Cheng drown himself in any nearby body of water were he to do it alone. Lan Zhan might be the Chief Cultivator and might deliberate all the edicts and decisions, but the Sect leaders and the Nobles and rulers around them would be ones to actually do them. Favors have to be exchanged and relations built and maintained, for anything to be done at all. And as much as Wei Wuxian hates politics, he knows that Lan Zhan - with his unflinching brand of Lan values - has even less love for it. It's really the least he could do to smile and make faces across Lan Zhan's ridiculously tiny writing desk, sorting the nonsenses into an at least comprehensible sort of nonsense.

And then one day, Lan Kun approached him, in that very particular way Lan disciples have when they're all but running without actually running. Apparently, the disciple who usually took Hanguang Jun's correspondences from the Post Office in Caiyi had come down with a case of summer fever that had also coincidentally taken down most of his fellow junior disciples and now there's barely anyone to get anything done, much less make the trip to Caiyi. But then Hanguang Jun won't get his letters and Senior Wei, Lan Kun had said, eyes wide in his normally composed face, what should this Disciple do?

Wei Wuxian had held the disciple's shoulders, told him to breathe and do that Lan meditation trick where you synchronise your breathing with the pulse of your core, and assured Lan Kun that he's going to come down to Caiyi to fetch the letters himself. Because really, it wasn't like he's got anything better to do.

The postmaster, he later learned, had previously been Jin Guangyao's, and Jin Guangshan's before him - One of the many incumbent administrators of the Chief Cultivator's post who's been retained because there was just no time to look for new ones amidst all the chaos of both his former Master's downfall - A thin, reedy man with what seems to be a perpetual pinch to his face who pushed a parcel of letters his way with barely a glance.

"These are the ones that I have sorted out myself for His Excellency's perusal, the rest will be kept here until I manage to get someone to dispose of them properly."

"Wait, what?" Wei Wuxian had frowned, "What do you mean the rest?"

"I said," the Postmaster sniffed, the faint disdain ringing clear in his voice "These are the important missives worthy of the Chief Cultivator's time, and the rest -" He waved to a packaged stack of letters behind him "Will probably be burned."

Wei Wuxian ignored the postmaster's indignant protest as he slipped behind the counter and grabbed one of the letters - its parchment rough and simple, sealed with a mere blob of wax, the characters roughly yet painstakingly written - and had a belated realization. All of the letters and missives he'd read so far bears the official seals of nobles and large Sects, but what of these letters? What of the people who had no seals, or no name illustrious enough to warrant them the right to the Chief Cultivator's time?

"Is this all of it?"

"Well yes, but I don't see why His Excellency would-"

"The Chief Cultivator will be in touch with you regarding how his correspondences are to be handled in the future," Wei Wuxian cut him off with a glare, and the postmaster opened his mouth for a beat before he finally, finally saw chenqing hanging off his belt, the black and red of his robes, and clamped it shut faster than anything. Good.

"For now, it's in your best interest not to burn any unimportant letters and simply send them along with the next batch of letters to the Cloud Recesses."

Wei Wuxian ended up lugging two crates' worth of letters all the way to the Cloud Recesses, and almost collapsed in front of the Jingshi just as Lan Zhan opened the doors for him.

"Wei Ying?" Lan Zhan swept in readily beside him, taking the crates from his hands and settling it down before offering him a cup of water. He waited silently as Wei Wuxian caught his breath enough to explain.  They opened the crates and settled down into what has become their respective seat across one another, the minuscule crease between Lan Zhan's brows becoming deeper and deeper with each forgotten, urgent missive they opened. Most are pleas for help - Yaoguai and walking corpses, restless spirits and curses. But some are more mundane, yet not less pressing - Failed crops, bandits, sickness. And yet some other are from smaller, local sects, wanting to help with whatever is happening around them but lacking the resources or sheer capacity to do so.

Wei Wuxian knew that the recent Sect upheavals surrounding Jin Guangyao's treachery and the skirmishes on the South had taken a toll to the land, not counting the recent spell of unseasonal storms and the following floods. Had seen a picture of it himself in his recent, if brief wandering. But cocooned as he was for the past month in the Cloud Recesses, it would seem that the Cultivation world that is exposed to Lan Zhan is recovering only by itself, leaving behind the rest of the people to toil and suffer as they always had.

Hours past curfew, the remains of a hasty meal and three pots of tea strewn around them, they finally managed to wrangle months' worth of letters into a comprehensive, if still bleak shape, and in all honesty Wei Wuxian felt miserable. 

"Alright," Wei Wuxian had said, drawing a deep breath as he started to heft one pile of the letters "Alright. These ones we could forward directly to Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang with an accompanying letter from you. Some of these only need like, a gentle push from them to fix things and some of the Sects involved here are direct subsidiaries of Yunmeng Jiang and Qinghe Nie. Great, right? That leaves us with-"

They both look at the veritable mountain of letters left between them, and then at each other, and then back at the letters.

"Right," Wei Wuxian breathed.

"Not enough resources. Not enough time," Lan Zhan's frown was actually visible to the naked eye at that point, and Wei Wuxian was torn between trying to make that frown disappear and sporting the same frown because Lan Zhan was right.

Despite, or perhaps exactly because of its excellence, The Gusu Lan sect does not really have that much disciples to spare - much less to send off willy nilly into the wild. The varied locations of the pleas would mean forwarding the letters to nearby local sects, but the fact that they've written to the Chief Cultivator himself - To Hanguang-Jun - must have meant that their prior letters to closer, more plausible sources of aid had been unanswered. And it's not like Lan Zhan can just jump on his sword and be where the chaos is like he was wont to do in the past, unless -

"Unless?" Wei Wuxian only realized that he'd been saying his thoughts out loud when Lan Zhan echoed him. Wei Wuxian looked at him, his mind already lining up the locations of the beleaguered towns and villages, a jumble of lines over an imaginary map of the land.

"Ah, Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian grinned, his first time doing so that night "You forgot that you have the Yiling Patriarch on your side."

**

Being on the road with an actual itinerary feels unusual for Wei Wuxian, as is being on the road when Lan Zhan was the one who packed for him. There is something to be said about riding a fast horse with a map on one's hand, and enough money so that he never worries about what to eat or where to stay for the night. 

Lan Zhan had been very particular about it too, pressing the coin pouch into his protesting hands along with a qiankun bag apparently packed with enough rations and medical supplies for a small army of (very clumsy and very hungry) juniors on an extended night hunt.

"Not just for Wei Ying," Lan Zhan had said, fingers brushing Wei Wuxian's as he withdrew them "People where Wei Ying go might need it too."

And really, that was just underhanded of him. People can go on and on about the virtues of the peerless Second Jade of Lan, but Lan Zhan can be a sly, sly man when he wants to be.

After the town with the walking corpses, Wei Wuxian rides West to the Yunmeng borders, a lake with an infestation of water ghouls that has been crippling the fishermen of the area. He stops briefly in Lotus Pier to forward the missives that can be tackled by the Jiang clan and inform Jiang Cheng that he hasn't died yet (And also because he knows better now than to even skirt the border of Yunmeng without a visit). Then the road will take him to a series of small towns and back East towards Gusu, through a forest where the local ranger outpost has been disturbingly silent for months.

He flashes the jade token again in his stops, bolstered by the delight and sheer wonder in the people's eyes every time he tells them that the Chief Cultivator had sent him. He shares the food and medicines when he can, the surprising pouch of sweets that Lan Zhan had also packed. It's really nothing much and Wei Wuxian's chest is tight with the feeling that he could have done more, more than just these quick fixes of disasters in an already bleak life. But the people thank him all the same, and as he rides on, he remembers.

He remembers Lan Zhan, so many years ago in the Burial Mounds, helping with what he could, buying trinkets for A-Yuan and leaving behind his coin pouch with a look in his eyes that brooked no arguments. It wasn't much either, not against the strain of keeping so many people alive and well when he virtually had nothing, but it was something.

There's a certain strength to be had, in knowing that someone is there for you. For Wei Wuxian, it had also been a great comfort to know that it was Lan Zhan who was there for him. In the same way, it seems, the people are doubly delighted to know that it is Hanguang-Jun himself who cares for their wellbeing.

"What's he like, Young Master? The Chief Cultivator? Hanguang-Jun?" The question is asked of him many times, in every town and small hamlet and campfires Wei Wuxian spends his nights.

And it's easy, so easy, to talk about Lan Zhan. Easy to sit down and drink wine and regale rapt eyes with carefully-edited stories of his prowess in battle or surprising knack with children. Equally easy to listen to the stories people have, in turn, heard about Hanguang-Jun's exploits in his wanderings. Wei Wuxian had been gone for thirteen years, after all, and it's a delight to find these stray pieces of Lan Zhan scattered across the land, to pick out nuggets of truth in the tall tales and hoard them away like a magpie's glittering treasures.

By his second-to-last stop, Wei Wuxian finds himself listening to those stories with a quiet yet consistent ache of longing - The same feeling that made him steer Little Apple's rein East to Gusu after just a season of wandering.

The feeling lingers, stays with him until it simply dissipates completely as Wei Wuxian takes in the familiar upward quirk of Lan Zhan's lips when he sees him. He is whisked to a quiet report and a warm meal in the Jingshi, dishes that speaks of Lan Zhan's careful, precise hand and knowledge of just how many peppers Wei Wuxian prefers. 

"Lan Zhan," he whispers - as he often does during their mealtimes together - mindful of the Lan rules of no talking, but really not that mindful because it's Lan Zhan, after all "This is so good!"

"Mn," Lan Zhan hums, even as he gently puts another piece of beef on Wei Wuxian's bowl, something glimmering, quiet yet rather resolute, in his eyes "Wei Ying deserves good things"

Wei Wuxian blinks, but Lan Zhan has dropped his gaze to his own bowl, and he takes a bite of his food instead, the moment passing quietly amidst the gentle clinks of wood on Gusu pottery.

As they clear the dishes and Lan Zhan brews the tea Wei Wuxian had gotten for him (White silver needles from Guanli, the gentle scent reminding him of Lan Zhan as he passed by the bustling marketplace), as their conversations turn into a comfortable debate about the possibility of spiritual pigeons, Wei Wuxian realizes that this is the first time in his second life that he's actually come back somewhere.

The realization feels unusual in his chest, jostling and melding with the longing he's been harbouring along the road that he's still loathe to categorize, but Wei Wuxian decides that it's a nice feeling.

**

Autumn passes with Wei Wuxian shuttling back and forth between Gusu and the road and somehow, it becomes a thing.

The two of them learn pretty quickly to draw connections between the formal missives that reaches the Chief Cultivator and the conditions on the field, to read between the lines of what is said and unsaid by the people in power and what policies to push and implement that would actually help the people in the long run. It's hard for a Sect Leader to request financial incentives for handling a yaoguai infestation when it was in fact, Wei Wuxian who had quelled the infestation himself.  It's easier to determine that the appearances of water ghouls in several regions are actually connected by a river running through all the infested areas when they have both Wei Wuxian checking out the waterways firsthand and Lan Zhan to direct the necessary resources to tackle them, the succesfully-bred spiritual pigeon proving to be indispensable when they need to be quick.

And each time, without fail, Lan Zhan walks Wei Wuxian to the gates of Cloud Recesses, pressing the things he has packed into his hands to say, simply :

"Be safe, Wei Ying."

The first time Lan Zhan had said it, Wei Wuxian was suddenly rendered silent by the quiet intensity of the request. He knows, of course, that he's hasn't exactly had a sterling record of self-preservation, as demonstrated by the collection of scars in both of his bodies, or the fact that he's in a different body altogether. It only makes sense for anyone to tell him to keep safe, and yet -

"For you? Always, Lan Zhan," the words slipped out from his mouth unfiltered, honest - Too honest, and Wei Wuxian hastily added a coquettish wink and a grin, jumped into his horse with a cheery wave.

It hit him somewhere between Caiyi and the Jiangnan border, the fact that he'd been gone for thirteen years. He'd been gone for thirteen years and, if what A-Yuan's been saying was right, then Lan Zhan had mourned him for thirteen years. Wei Wuxian doesn't, would probably never know why Lan Zhan did, friendship and the abstract concept of soulmates aside, how he was worth that much mourning, but - 

But Wei Wuxian knows how it feels, waiting for someone to come back, for them to never come back at all, and whatever Lan Zhan's reasons, whatever he is to Lan Zhan, he doesn't want that for him. 

And so, Wei Wuxian does his best to keep himself safe. He scouts areas as diligently as he would for the Lan Juniors often under his care, cultivates his fledgling golden core a bit more everyday, and scribes protection on paper and on his own skin. He is rewarded, in each of his returns, with Lan Zhan's gentle gaze upon him - That tender, almost unabashed relief that Wei Wuxian barely believes is directed at him, for him.

"Be safe, Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says as winter falls around them, the crisp air turning his words into mist, fingers warm against Wei Wuxian's.

"For you, always," Wei Wuxian mounts his horse, smiles back, and marvels at how much he means it.

**

And then, he starts hearing it, together with the gratitude and small gifts people press into his hands that he sometimes can't dodge fast enough.

The Chief Cultivator's Herald.

He hears the name in towns and villages alike, and sometimes, he hears it side by side with an older name, hears the easy acknowledgement that the Yiling Patriarch is Hanguang-Jun's Herald and somehow, Wei Wuxian doesn't know what to feel. 

He knows that his name has been cleared after what happened in Guanyin Temple, that Nie Huaisang is on this strange personal campaign to somehow rehabilitate his name further by spreading stories and rumors of how the Yiling Patriarch had been wronged by the world of whatever. But it still surprises him that people would know him by his robes and by the dizi hanging off his belt and then welcome and thank him still. That he is now not just the Yiling Patriarch, but also, somehow, Lan Zhan's Herald. That people see him and actually think of Lan Zhan in connection with him.

The Chief Cultivator's Herald, they call him - And as he rides on, Wei Wuxian lets the name drape into his skin, like a new robe whose folds are yet to settle just right.

During the four months he had wandered, before he finally returned to Gusu, Wei Wuxian had tried to settle. He had first tried to settle on the road, the first two months of his journey spent wandering aimlessly, stopping wherever looked like it needed help, sleeping under the stars and sometimes questionable inns, little Apple on his side. There had been a time when home felt like the open road and the bray of a donkey, but Wei Wuxian learned soon enough that home was the arms of his father and his mother's laugh, carried by the wind.

And so he trekked first to the Unclean Realms, then to Koi Tower - Both its Sect leaders welcoming him with open arms but the gilded walls around him an ill-fitting home. And then, he went to Lotus Pier.

Jiang Cheng had been waiting for him when he docked - welcomed him with a silent gruffness that felt both familiar and new. Wei Wuxian spent a month on the similarly familiar yet different walkways of Lotus Pier, slipping himself into the gaps he knew Jiang Cheng made for him - Archery practices and dinners and long hours of helping him with his letters as he had, so long ago. It is but a tentative, budding thing, a seed still mired in so much mud and yet -

Yet even then, face to face with Jiang Cheng with a pile of letters between them, Wei Wuxian had known that even when that seed blooms, Lotus Pier would not be home the way it was to him once. And maybe Jiang Cheng had realized that too, when the other man walked him to the docks bound East, a glare and a small bell - both familiar and new - given to him as he went.

"Thank you, Herald. Thank you. Heavens bless you and the Chief Cultivator!"

And Wei Wuxian has to admit, that during those four months of wandering, he had not been able to say that he comes from anywhere, when once he could have claimed Lotus Pier, or even the Burial Mounds of Yiling. That he missed a sense of coming from somewhere, of coming from something.

It feels nice, to belong to something.

**

"It suits Senior Wei," Sizhui says, as the five of them trek back to town, spirit net stuffed full with ghost centipedes floating between them. Wei Wuxian has made it a habit to rope in whichever of Jin Ling's friends is available whenever his missives brought him to Lanling, and then whining and making himself as much of a nuinsance as possible in front of his nephew until Sect Leader Jin acquiesces to go Night Hunting with him.

Oh, Jin Ling grouses and grumbles and snipes at him every chance he gets that he's here despite the multitude of very pressing matters waiting for him. But Wei Wuxian can see how his shoulders relaxes the further they fly away from Koi Tower, the easy way he bickers with Jingyi and chat swith Zizhen or smiles shily at Sizhui. Wei Wuxian remembers Mianmian, bright and sensible next to Jin Zixuan's rigid coldness, and how much of the warmth the Peacock later showed his Shijie might be attributed to her. It's good not to be alone, to have friends even, or especially when you're in a such a high place.

Even if said friends are right now trying their damnedest to analyze Wei Wuxian's personal life.

"Suit me how, exactly?" Wei Wuxian asks, despite how clear of a laid trap Sizhui's words are, because he supposes he loves his son or something.

"If Hanguang-Jun is the bearer of light, then Senior Wei is the Herald who brings that light to the people where it doesn't reach before. Where Senior Wei is, people will know that the Chief Cultivator heard their plight."

Somewhere behind them, Jin Ling makes a gagging sound while Ouyang Zhizen practically squees. Beside him, Lan Jingyi actually looks thoughtful.

"You know what, that actually makes sense. Like-" Jingyi makes a vague motion with his hands before clasping them together "Like they're a set, somehow. A pair"

"That doesn't make any sense at all" Wei Wuxian, interjects, just to be contrary, but also because he's not just going to stand there while kids are waxing poetic about him and Lan Zhan. It's bad enough that whatever rumors Nie Huaisang concocted about him seems to revolve around him being this self-sacrificing, tragic hero who plays the dizi prettily on random rooftops. He really doesn't need any more melodrama added to it "Your Hanguang-Jun and I just work together, and people like catchy names! There's no -"

"Hm," Jin Ling cuts him off, and Wei Wuxian glares, betrayed, at his nephew even as the boy's brows furrow with thought "You worked with Jiujiu too, back then, and now too I guess. Would you want to be called Sandu Sengshou's Herald, though?"

Wei Wuxian actually has to pause, at that - A wash of memories making him suddenly too aware of the bell hanging off his belt. There was a time, of course, before everything, when he was sure of what he's going to be one day, the future Jiang Sect Leader's right hand man. And yet, now that he thinks of that possibility -

"What does your uncle have to do with this?" He whines instead, a tad belatedly, and then Jin Ling is snapping back and Zizhen pipes up (perhaps) in his defense that duh, of course brotherhood is different with being soulmates, A-Ling!

Amongst all the ruckus, Sizhui gives him a serene, almost knowing smile, and Wei Wuxian is left to wonder - as he increasingly does these days - whether instead of taking after Lan Zhan or him, if the fates had cruelly conspired so their A-Yuan actually takes, somehow, after his aunt Wen Qing.

**

Spring finds Wei Wuxian on a trek near Yingchuan - In particular, an area with a suspiciously high number of missing travellers (His money is on shapeshifters), and three nearby local sects with a dispute against each other that's starting to get out of hand. As luck would have it, Wei Wuxian stumbles into both at the same time.

It's not that shapeshifters are particularly dangerous to hunt, they are just tricky. The fact that they can turn into anything that has eyes is enough cause for headache, and that's in addition to the other fact that rain makes them reproduce like nothing else (The recent spring showers must mean that the forest around them are now crawling with shapeshifters). When you know what to do and what to look for, though, shapeshifters are fairly manageable.

Alas, it would seem that no member of this Night Hunt party knows what they were doing, as is evident by the utter pandemonium Wei Wuxian now has before him.

The forest clearing is awash with the sound of clanging swords and general confusion, and Wei Wuxian counts three different colors of robes amidst the chaos, which is just peachy because hey, why not add confusion and long-standing sect grudges on top of face-stealing demons, right?

Wei Wuxian jumps into a nearby tree branch for a better vantage point and shoots out a sustained illumination talisman into the air - flooding the area with light for what he's about to do next. 

"Everyone, listen up!" He shouts, voice amplified by the array he's scribed on his skin,"Look whoever you're fighting dead in the eye - If it's a shapeshifter, it will turn into you!"

It really isn't the most elegant method in the book, as several terrified screams all across the clearing would testify, but it gets the job done. Wei Wuxian maintains his perch and trills a few minimal notes on chenqing, drawing out the shapeshifters whose guises are already flagging, showing the sharp teeth and long claws of their original form as the energy they leeched off dead travellers are drawn to Wei Wuxian. The chaos dies down soon enough, the disciples surrounding the remaining shapeshifters in groups until the clearing is silent but for the dying throes of the creatures. He surveys everyone from above and is relieved when he sees no serious injuries, merely scrapes and bruises that will mend easily enough with simple poultices.

"Is everyone all right? Anyone seriously injured?" Wei Wuxian calls out anyway, and then, as if on command, every eye present shifts upwards to where Wei Wuxian is still perched on his tree.

In retrospect, he probably did paint quite the ominous picture - dark robes against a dark night, the dying light of his talisman casting flickering shadows on the slight red of his eyes and the wisps of resentful energy still swirling around him.

"You're…You're the Yiling Patriarch," someone says in something that sounds halfway to a whimper, and gasps ripples through the assembled disciples - half awe, half fear, and a lot of nervous glancing at the dizi twirled casually on his fingers. Wei Wuxian sighs, and alights from his perch to land softly on the forest floor. Cleared name or no, he supposes it's harder for fellow Cultivators to suddenly perceive the founder of Demonic Cultivation as all sunshine and benevolence after years of indoctrination.

"Senior Wei would suffice," he slips chenqing back to his belt and spreads his empty hands as non-threateningly as possible. And then, because some of the disciples around him are starting to look a bit faint, he lifts his go-to jade token "The Chief Cultivator sent me. You know, because shapeshifters. But also for the dispute" He gestures vaguely at the kids in general, which seem to remind them that they are, actually, from three different sects with a feud between them. Slowly, the mingled disciples shuffle into three color-coded huddles, and Wei Wuxian sighs again.

"I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to talk about that with your Elders when we get home from this. But tonight, I think we should build a nice fire and have dinner, how about that?" he taps his fingers lightly on chenqing, and raises a warning eyebrow as the dark-yellow contingent starts to inch away.

"And I mean together, because this forest is still chock-full of shapeshifters and the closer we are together, the harder it would be for them to pick up strays and make a double out of one of you."

Setting up camp and cooking dinner is an interesting experience, especially since Wei Wuxian insists on having the three different Sects work on it together - A Jiang Yanli specialty when she's had it with her bickering brothers and shidis. The kids grumble and very sharp looks are thrown over cooking pots and seasonings, but they all survive well enough until everyone's in a haphazard circle around the fire with their dinners. 

"So," one of the grey-clad disciples finally pipes up amidst the crackling of the fire, clearly trying hard not to sound incredulous "The Chief Cultivator sent the Yiling Patriarch to mediate the dispute between our Sects?"

"Pretty wild, huh?" Wei Wuxian waggles his eyebrows, and the disciple frowns, perturbed. Wei Wuxian laughs. 

"But if you think about it, it's pretty apt, right? I mean, who managed to unite all the different Sects into banding together and march to the Nightless City?"

"The…Yiling Patriarch?" Grey-clad kid offers up.

"Exactly! I'm very familiar with sects feuding and sects uniting together, that's how I died the first time!"

There are several gasps from the circle around him, one of the disciples immediately looking at Wei Wuxian with wide, stricken eyes that reminds him of Ouyang Zhizen.

"I-I'm sorry, Senior Wei."

"No no no, it's nothing sad like that!" Because honestly, kids these days. So dramatic.

"What I'm trying to say is, feuds between Sects are not new. When I was - Well, in my first life, you kids probably weren't born yet - There's not much peace between Sects either, large or small. You all study history, right?"

The circle around him nods in passable unison. 

"And that was how things got so bad, with Wen Ruohan, how the Great Sects were taken down so easily, because we didn't work together. We only really worked together when it was way, way too late and a lot of people have already fallen, because we were so unused to it."

The circle had become completely silent, only the crackling of the fire accompanying him as Wei Wuxian swallows, and looks at the wide, uncertain eyes of the kids around him. And it's almost funny, really, how he calls them kids now, when everything that happened to him in that lifetime probably happened when he was their age.

"I think a lot of people wonder what makes someone turn to demonic cultivation. I would say that at that time, it was necessity. There was a point where I felt like no possible help would come from anywhere, that we were all alone, and that the only way was this. All because we were so unused to thinking that we could, should work together," he tries on a smile, looks around once again, and catches one of the blue-clad disciples with his hand half-raised, as if he's in a class. Wei Wuxian nods at him.

"But..but Hanguang-Jun took your side, didn't he? During the war, and..and later?"

Wei Wuxian feels his smile widen, the thought of Lan Zhan making something bloom, warm and comforting, in his chest. Settles him enough to continue.

"That he did. At some point, he was the only one who even wanted to listen to the other side of everything that's going on. What I was doing might be wrong, but he was willing to listen and to help," he chuckles, rueful yet fond. "And honestly, it would be great if more people would be like Hanguang-Jun. Disputes are inevitable, but wouldn't it be nice if it doesn't make us forget that we're all just people living together?"

They go to sleep in silence after that, and Wei Wuxian wakes up, surprised, to find that some of the disciples around him had already started making breakfast together - Grey and blue and dark yellow in a haphazard yet amicable swirl around him. Wei Wuxian hears someone laugh, a sharp-eyed lad with the blue robes of the Xiaos leaning over a confused, wide-eyed Wong disciple, and he smiles.

They spend the next two nights continuing the Night Hunt, making sure that the forest is cleared of shapeshifters and that the kids know the proper way to Night Hunt as a team and with a different team they're not familiar with. He finds out that the Xiao's long-ranged attacks works well with the more close-quarter combat of the Wang clan, and that the Huangs are a host of excellent healers that rounds out the three feuding clan into an almost perfect Hunting unit.

When the three contingents of disciples bow down before their Elders to negotiate for and end of their clan's dispute themselves, the Yiling Patriarch standing quietly behind them, Wei Wuxian knows that the peace they have secured today will go a slightly longer way than what he's used to.

Some days, being the Yiling Patriarch isn't such a bad thing after all.

**

The joint night hunt quickly becomes a thing too.

Once word got out of the Huang-Xiao-Wang triumvirate successfully turning the roads to Yingchuan safe once more, local sects begin to raise the possibility for similar outings, and Wei Wuxian makes space for them in his itineraries. Xiao Dejun, Wang Xuxi, and Huang Guanheng, respectively the Head disciples of each their Sects, have developed something of a reputation amongst the smaller sects, and often tags along when Wei Wuxian conducts the Joint Night Hunts - assisting him in wrangling oftentimes confused small sect disciples in their very first Night Hunt. 

The problem with smaller Sects is that they oftentimes do not have the resources for regular, proper night hunts - and consequently, disciples have less experiences and opportunities to be adept enough to solve nearby problems. A lot of the time, this ends up in them relying on bigger, stronger sects with more resources and capabilities. Wei Wuxian tries to circumvent this in each of the Night Hunts, drilling down basic guidelines and normalizing the use of talismans and makeshift flags where expensive spiritual nets and traps usually come to play.

He also makes it a point for everyone to camp, cook, and eat together in each other outings, divying up Hunt parties in random combinations of different Sects. It's harder to kill each other in a hypothetical future feud when you've had to fight together, share a bedroll or tent together, or in some cases, absolutely fail at making congee together.

Wei Wuxian thinks that the many, many atrocious breakfast congees he's had is worth it.

Lan Zhan points out which particular regions have unclaimed stretches of infested areas or a multitude of often warring smaller sects, and sends formal invitations that leads to Night Hunts which are always jam-packed, the disciples seemingly excited to be in a Night Hunt with the Chief Cultivator's Herald or the Yiling Patriarch.

"It's kind of weird, though, isn't it?" Wei Wuxian muses, pouring the tea (Zhengshan xiaozhong from Wuyi. Might be a bit too smoky for Lan Zhan's taste, but he'll see what happens) to both their cups "That people are still calling me the Yiling Patriarch? I mean, it's not like I live in Yiling anymore, or practice that much Demonic Cultivation…"

"Is there anything Wei Ying would rather be called, then?" Lan Zhan asks, and Wei Wuxian blinks in surprise because well, no one's ever really asked him that before, haven't they? He swirls his tea in its cup, giving it some thought.

"Eh, not really," he says, after some time "I'm not really a fan of, you know, titles. Just seems kind of, superfluous somehow? Although, your title fits you really well. Also your brother's, I suppose" Wei Wuxian grins, winking at the man across him conspiratorially "Sandu Sengshou is ridiculous though, but don't ever tell Jiang Cheng that! And Lianfang Zun? That just sounds like one of Nie Huaisang's favorite novels, really."

Lan Zhan chooses that moment to sip his tea, but Wei Wuxian knows that the rim of his cup hides a small quirk of his lips. His grin grows wider, and he shuffles closer on the tiny table.

"I mean, there was one instance when I wanted to be called by a particular name. But since I've got it already,  I really think I don't have need for anything else."

"Mn?" One of Lan Zhan's brow rises infinitesimally, curious.

"Ah, Lan Zhan. I got you to call me Wei Ying, didn't I?"

"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan hisses, the tips of his ears a soft, blushing red even as Wei Wuxian laughs and laughs, thinking that the whole world could really call him anything they want, as long as he has Lan Zhan to say his name like that.

**

The name still follows him, though. Living in Yiling or not, Demonic Cultivation or not.

The name follows him to the small town of Suqian, where he solves a particularly persistent and destructive restless spirit with the help of a small, local Sect. A town which, apparently, has the best damn wine he's ever tasted outside of Caiyi.

"Shushu, I'm sorry" Wei Wuxian catches the eyes of the innkeeper, eyes wide as he raises his bottle "But what manner of wine is this?"

The old innkeeper laughs,  ambling over to his table with a wide grin "Good stuff, isn't it, Herald?"

"Very! I mean, Shushu, really! You can really make a killing with this in the city! Why have I never tasted it before?"

"Aiyaa, that's the last of it though. Will have to wait until the end of the year for you to taste it again. Old Master Song only makes it in the summer, and so did his father before him. Pity there's no one to take over when he's gone, no sons and all."

Wei Wuxian treks out of town mourning the fact that the world is going to lose a brand of perfectly good wine into the abyss of time, up until he stumbles on two girls crouched near a shed on the outskirts of town - faint weaves of spiritual energy and a lot of crumpled papers strewn around them. Huh.

As he approaches, Wei Wuxian notices that one of the girls is sporting the maroon-violet ensemble of the Ye Sect, her face vaguely familiar from last night's Hunt - eyebrows knitting in concentration as her brush fiddles with what looks to be the beginnings of a talisman.

"Is that a heating talisman?"

Both girls yelp in unison and whip around to face him - The other one a girl of roughly the same age, her robes fine yet cut decidedly shorter and more close-fitting than girls her age, hair pinned up in a high ponytail.

"Oh. Oh! You're the Yiling patriarch," ponytail girl gasps, eyes wide, even as the Ye disciple elbows her on the ribs.

"That I am, at your service," Wei Wuxian bows with a flourish before he straightens up, grinning at the mess of talisman papers around them. "Now what's with all the fire talismans, then?"

The two girls turn out to be friends, long-haired Shuhua the daughter of the Ye sect leader and wide-eyed, pony-tailed Yuqi the daughter of Master Song, the owner of the town's distillery. It turns out that Suqian's millet wine is brewed so rarely because it requires a very precise temperature to ferment the Qu, which only comes in high summer. What the two girls had been doing was to try and figure out if there's a way to replicate the right kind of temperature with some manner of talisman or array, so that they can brew all year long and actually maintain a stable business. The idea is honestly brilliant, and soon enough, Wei Wuxian is crouched on the ground with them, wrapping his mind around Yuqi's methodical explanation of the chemical process of fermenting Qu and figuring out the right place to place an array or a talisman.

"So hey, Senior Wei - Oh wait, can I call you Senior Wei too? I mean, I'm not a Cultivator or anything - "

Wei Wuxian shrugs, inviting her to continue even as he scratches out another design on the ground.

"So you're, the Yiling Patriarch and everything right? How come you're now, I don't know, working for the Chief Cultivator? As in, does he pay you really good money or something?"

Wei Wuxian laughs, imagining all the times Lan Zhan has had to sneak, maneuver, and downright shove his money pouch to him "Well, just as you two do, friends help each other, right? Hanguang-Jun's my friend" He smiles absently, fiddles with the water character some more because the array has to recognize that it is, after all, not exactly pure water, like heating a bath, but -

"Is it true, though? That you braved the veils of death to meet him again?" Shuhua's lilting voice cuts off his musings and, what?

"Where," Wei Wuxian frowns "Have you been hearing these things?"

"Around," Shuhua says, just as Yuqi pipes up "The books, of course!"

Wei Wuxian's eyes narrows, "What books?"

"Um, The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation? It has pictures too. Looks a lot like Senior Wei, that's how I recognized you!" Yuqi chirps on, the array between them forgotten as Shuhua's eyes lights up beside her.

"Is it true, Senior Wei, that Hanguang-Jun made a song for you that he plays for thirteen years to search for your lost soul?"

His lost…soul? For all that he's prancing around in a twenty-something year old's body, Wei Wuxian's definitely too fucking old for this, so he pulls out his best imitation of Lan Qiren's voice and glares at the two girls.

"Concentrate. Heating array. Saving the family business. Shuhua, what radicals do you use for a fire talisman that you can use here?"

He ends up staying in Suqian for another three days, hammering out an exact mechanism that would actually work with Shuhua and Yuqi. As it turns out, the best way to do it is via heating talismans that has to be modified slightly for each fermented barrell, due to the varying nature of the millet crop and the simple unpredictability of the fermentation process in general. This would mean that the whole process requires a Cultivator's regular handling, and Yuqi proposes that his family's distillery strike a cooperation with the Ye Sect where they'll share the earnings of the wine if business blooms.

"Our regards to Hanguang-Jun!" Yuqi grins, as they both send him off at the edge of town.

"Please give him our love and gratitude," Shuhua demurs and bows perfectly, before her smile turns decidedly sly "And your love and gratitude too of course, Senior Wei."

Wei Wuxian shakes his head, and waves goodbye as he rides away. He really is getting too old for this.

**

The whole thing got him thinking long after he's left Suqian, even after he's arrived in the Cloud Recesses and had his regular report and meal with Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan notices his preoccupation, and leaves him to his musings to brew his tea (Melon Seed tea from Guanli - creamy with a sweet aftertaste. Lan Zhan has a secret sweet tooth, he'd love this one), cocooning him with a comfortable silence and the sheer, gentle act of being present - calming and grounding him enough to really think.

"Most problems that we've been tackling from these missives have a pattern," Wei Wuxian blurts out, when his thoughts have stopped rattling around and have more or less settled, albeit still restless, inside his head

"A lot of people are living in less than ideal conditions, which means a lot of deaths also happens in less than ideal conditions, making a lot of places breeding ground for spiritual disturbances even if we quell them each time it happens. Local sects don't have enough resources and thus don't have the ability to develop, while cases keeps getting forwarded to larger sects who sometimes have neither time nor inclination to help. On top of it all, most rulers are useless, so a lot of the time nothing gets done and the people don't get help"

Across from him, Lan Zhan has put down his teacup and is looking at him intently, openly, and Wei Wuxian thinks - despite all the perception of him being the cold, untouchable Jade of Lan - that this is why Lan Zhan does best with the youngest of the Lan disciples. When Lan Zhan listens to you, he listens. Makes you feel like whatever you say has weight and meaning, even when it's the babbling of a small child, or, in his case, the ramblings of his resurrected necromancer friend. Wei Wuxian flashes Lan Zhan a grateful grin, and continues. 

"So most problems are actually structural! Symptoms, if you will, of a flawed way of doing things. Like in an array, sometimes it's not that you drew the wrong radicals - it's the whole array that's the problem and you have to scrap it, start over. And what we're running on now, since Wen Ruohan, since Jin Guangshan, probably much longer than that, revolves around money. You know this, of course, with the amount of money everyone's constantly trying to throw at you, His Excellency."

"Mn," Lan Zhan hums, a thoughtful crease beginning to form between his brows as well. 

"Large to mid-tier sects only move when there's political benefit or money involved, and smaller sects actually need the money to support their day-to-day running while the people just don't have any because their crops and farmers are probably being eaten by Yaoguais."

"Mn," Lan Zhan hums again, his tone beginning to shift ever so slighty towards an inquiry.

"But! I did tell you about the kids in Suqian, right? And I'm not saying that everyone has to do something like that, but that's definitely a prototype. Every region has a trade or a produce, and almost every region has a small cultivation sect, and imagine if - If there's a way that every town or region can be self-sufficient enough to at least prevent half of what we've been dealing with from even happening!"

There is a beat of quiet as Wei Wuxian catches his breath and Lan Zhan nods.

"So Wei Ying is thinking of fostering similar kinds of collaborations between Local Cultivation Sects and local trades, in order for them to have a sustainable source of income that enables better living for the people and the development of smaller sects?"

The urge for him to reach over the tiny tiny table between them and squeeze Lan Zhan's whole being in his arms is a sudden, unbearable thing. Wei Wuxian grins instead, spreading his arms wide "Ah, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, that's exactly it! Ah Lan Zhan, wherever will I be without you?"

Lan Zhan predictably does not answer, but this time around, Wei Wuxian notices that he doesn't hide his smile behind a cup of tea.   

**

A letter to Nie Huaisang gets him a list of trade goods passing through Qinghe's extensive trade network, and a wink and a smile to the supervisory officers of both Jiangnan and Yunmeng - both of whom he got to know pretty well in a particularly interesting case of phantom trade caravans - gets him the rest of the region's. Lan Zhan supplies him with a registry of small local sects across the regions, and Wei Wuxian gets to work.

It takes him all of springtime and the better part of summer, a lot of trials and errors and sleepless nights, and once, a series of exploding cabbage pickles because fermentation and Cultivation makes the strangest bedfellows.

They receive a crate of Suqian millet wine and another of Tianjin cabbage pickles, along with glowing reports from several small towns and Sect leaders in their mid-summer batch of correspondences. 

Wei Wuxian laughs, delighted, as he inspects the note stuck just beneath the lid, written in Yuqi's familiar chicken-scrawl script "For Senior Wei! Don't drink it all in one go!", and then, in a more elegant hand beneath it, Shuhua's "Please drink it together with Hanguang-Jun!"

"Aw, these kids really shouldn't bother," Wei Wuxian chuckles, setting the crate down to bring to his own quarters later, shaking his head fondly.

"Wei Ying deserves good things," Lan Zhan intones, quietly, yet with a surprising amount of intensity from his seat behind the writing desk. Wei Wuxian blinks, remembers the last time Lan Zhan said the same thing, then looks up to see Lan Zhan's golden eyes gazing straight at him.

"Wei Ying deserves a lot of things," he says again, quieter, gentler, and Wei Wuxian doesn't know what to feel, flails around with the shapes of words in his mouth before he settles for a grin.

"Ah Lan Zhan, you already pamper me so much with everything - What more does this one deserve when this one already has Hanguang-Jun taking care of him, hmm?"

"Ridiculous," Lan Zhan snorts, the familiar blush tinging the tips of his ears, and Wei Wuxian's grin widens as he expects Lan Zhan to drop his gaze, as he always does.

Lan Zhan doesn't.

Wei Wuxian doesn't know what to feel.

**

The plague happens in late summer and starts off in Qishan, in one of the in-between regions that was apparently never claimed as anyone's after the Wen Clan's fall. Floods and unseasonably bad weather had been haunting the region alongside the sickness, and anyone possibly displaced by the floods yet to come holds the potential for spreading the sickness - as it had spread to several villages before.

Lan Zhan immediately sends missives to the region's neighboring Sects and administrators, but they both know that it would probably take weeks for anyone to move, and by then, it would probably be too late, especially if the sickness reaches the trade-rich gates of Shangoju.

Wei Wuxian sends three missives of his own - One to the Yingchuan Huang clan in a request for help as it neighbours the afflicted area, one to Koi Tower for Jin Ling to keep an eye on his borders, and one spiritual pigeon that knows Wen Ning's energy signature.

Lan Zhan packs for him on the last night before he's to depart to Qishan, an unusual tightness on the edges of his eyes, the set of his jaws.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian prods gently, stills the other man's uncharacteristically restless finger with his own "Wen Ning is going to be with me, and the healers from the Huang Clan knows what to do - Guanheng told me that they've handled this sickness before. In a much smaller scale, but they know what they're dealing with and how to contain it"

"Mn," Lan Zhan murmurs, the slightest hint of a waver on his tone as he continues to pack and Wei Wuxian continues to watch.

And then, it hits him, halfway down the path to the gates, Lan Zhan's steps steady and gentle beside him in the morning light.

Lan Zhan's mother had passed away from sickness - Sudden and too quick to spread on a body that's been unwell for a long time, as Xichen-ge had recounted. Lan Zhan had lost his mother to an unseen, intangible wraith, waiting on the steps of her doors until he'd known that she would never come back.

Lan Zhan had mourned Wei Wuxian for thirteen years, fully knowing that he would never come back.

It's suddenly too much, to be standing there beside Lan Zhan - his golden eyes steady and gentle, only the slightest tremor of his fingers around Wei Wuxian's giving the other man away. 

"Wei Ying," he intones, as he always does, "Be safe."

Wei Wuxian has a wild, sudden urge to throw his arms around Lan Zhan's cold, lonely figure. To simply wrap himself around the other man and stay.   

He smiles, instead, and squeezes Lan Zhan's hands tightly, "I'll come back, Lan Zhan," he whispers, looking straight at Lan Zhan's eyes, hoping, hoping that he understands, that he knows "I'll be safe for you."

Wei Wuxian tries not to look back as he rides away, lest his heart fails him.

He arrives to his first stop by nightfall, Wen Ning already waiting for him in the outskirts of the town's fields. Wen Ning's branch of the Wens had been trained as healers, and despite everything, there is a healer still in Wen Ning - who also runs no risk of contracting any diseases on account of being what he is.

"You're using jiejie's talismans," Wen Ning remarks quietly, what would have been a smile warming the stiff curve of his lips as Wei Wuxian approaches him.

The talisman had been his and Wen Qing's invention, on one of those nights when they're just too hungry to sleep - When food was too scarce and harvest too far away, and it's all they can do to tip their share into A-Yuan and Granny's bowls. In principle, the talisman would be scribed on pieces of cloth, to be tied on the lower half of the face and rendering the healer safe from any contaminations that their patients might transmit.

"Trust your sister to keep me safe even now," Wei Wuxian winks, tapping the cloth covering half of his face.

Huang Guanheng meets him on the gates of the town, saluting him briefly before accepting the stack of Wen Qing's talismans and instructions on how to utilize it.

"It's..not good. Inside," the young man says wrily, tying the inscribed cloth behind his head.

Wei Wuxian draws a deep breath beneath his cloth, the back of his neck already prickling with the cloying pull of death "I know."

The weeks following that are one of the most harrowing ones Wei Wuxian's had ever since his resurrection. They move from town to town, village to village, making sure to treat what they can and leave both supplies and clear instructions for the resident healers and close down access to each afflicted place. Wen Ning is indispensable, working tirelessly from bed to bed, even once staring down a particularly stubborn town administrator who refuses to close down the gates of his town - The man acquiescing easily enough once Wen Ning pulls down the inscribed cloth from his face and he realizes he's talking with the Ghost General himself.

Wei Wuxian helps with what he can, the scant knowledge he's had from his time with Wen Qing a small blessing in all the chaos, but his real work begins at night.

The vast number of dead makes for a potential nightmare of large-scale spiritual disturbances, and Wei Wuxian sets out each night to the outskirts of town, where the overflowing burial grounds are, chenqing on his lips.

He plays for hours, limbs heavy with the pull of so many death, red staying on the edges of his vision even after sunrise. He writes to Lan Zhan, on those dark mornings when all he sees is red - Tells him that he's doing all right, that he's gotten the supplies Gusu Lan and Yunmeng Jiang sent through the Yingchuan clans, that he shouldn't worry too much. Wei Wuxian remembers the Jingshi, remembers the sounds of Lan Zhan's brush and the clink of his teacups, remembers the warmth of Lan Zhan's fingers over his, Lan Zhan saying to him Wei Ying, be safe - and some days, it's the only thing that makes the red go away.

When Dejun and Xuxi comes along with fresh supplies, the two of them take turns walking with him at night, and it gets easier. Thank you, he writes to Lan Zhan, wants to say so much more but can't, doesn't know how to as the spirit pigeon disappears from his sight.

The official help from Runan and Lanling arrives predictably late, but just in time as they finally manage to contain the spread of the disease and temporarily block all transportation up and downriver. Rumors in the camps has it that Jin Ling had stood up against his own Sect council and appealed to the rulers of the Qishan-Lanling border towns for their cooperation - And by appealed, Wei Wuxian hears that  at some point Shuihua was definitely drawn. Were he not dead on his feet with exhaustion, he would probably have toasted his nephew with the whole camp.

He resolves, instead, to visit Koi Tower when all this is over, and perhaps spirit away the Sect Leader of the Jin clan on at least a week of Night Hunting and irresponsible romping about on the countryside.

And then finally, finally, it's over. Healers from Runan and troops from Qinghe takes over their operation, a small contingent of Gusu Lan disciples arriving to do one last sweep of the afflicted areas and play the song of cleansing, making sure no significant traces of resentful energy is left behind - Wen Ning promising to stay with them. Wei Wuxian almost cries at the sight of A-Yuan's smiling face bowing to him - barely managing to restrain himself from rushing to hug the boy with his still-filthy robes.

"I hope you have a safe journey, Senior Wei. Hanguang-Jun will be most pleased with your return," the youth smiles his quiet, knowing smile, and Wei Wuxian doesn't even care as behind him, Lan Yongqin and Lan Sicheng barely suppresses their laughter in a very un-Lan like manner. 

Wei Wuxian laughs too, his first one in weeks, and hops into his horse to ride East to Gusu - The path so familiar now that he barely needs to think anymore. He tries to occupy his mind, thinks up an extensive protocol for any future outbreaks in his head that he'll petition Lan Zhan to make compulsory reading for Sects. But every line of thought only brings him back to Lan Zhan, and as he approaches the gates of Gusu - Full dark now - Everything in his head has culminated in the full and resolute intent to hug Lan Zhan once he sees him - bystander and personal spaces be damned. He'll apologize afterwards, and get him the Yunmeng lotus plumule tea that Lan Zhan secretly likes from Jiang Cheng's personal stash.

He passes off the reins of his horse to a junior disciple with specific instructions to bathe it thoroughly, bathes himself meticulously as per Guanheng's instructions, and sent off his clothes to be burned along with his packs - The set of instructions having been hammered to him and each person who's been in the fields of Qishan for these past weeks.

And then, finally, finally, his steps are taking him to the Jingshi - Warm light spilling from its walls, the scent of bamboo leaves and sandalwood lingering on the porch as he reaches for the familiar doors, heart almost bursting with how much he longs.

The door slides opens before Wei Wuxian can grab them, Lan Zhan's golden eyes suddenly locking with his, eyes that Wei Wuxian had longed to see for so long now, that kept him grounded and sane during the long weeks of death and resentment churning in his blood.

He opens his mouth, but Lan Zhan's name dies on his lips as suddenly, so suddenly, his world is enveloped in warmth and the scent of sandalwood. There are arms around him - strong and warm and vaguely familiar, and it takes a moment for him to realize that Lan Zhan is hugging him. Lan Zhan is hugging him and Wei Wuxian wants to laugh, wants to cry, wants to do both all at once and never move from Lan Zhan's embrace

"Missed Wei Ying," Lan Zhan murmurs, breath warm on the crook of his neck, and then Wei Wuxian does cry - his tears falling into the pristine white of Lan Zhan's robes as the other man holds him tighter, the curtain of his hair hiding them both from the world.

"I said I would be back, didn't I?"

**

After his ordeal in Qishan, Lan Zhan had requested to play him the Song of Clarity - Something that felt like shock flitting briefly through his eyes as Wei Wuxian acquiesces. He remembers Lan Zhan, asking the very same question after Nightless City, remembers his own cold indifference, the darkness swirling and swirling in his chest and wants to rush into Lan Zhan's arms and hug him all over again.

And so he listens, sprawls himself on the warm floors of the Jingshi as quiet melodies wash over him and lulls him into the borders of sleep, and wakes to his head cradled on Lan Zhan's lap, fingers gentle on the crown of his head.

Lan Zhan plays for him, night after night, and eventually it just becomes second nature to lay his head on Lan Zhan's lap as he strums his guqin and chases away whatever traces of resentment still clings to Wei Wuxian.

"Thank you," he whispers, one night as Lan Zhan rests his fingers over the still vibrating string - bringing the note still hanging in the air between them to a quiet stop.

"No thank yous, Wei Ying deserves to be cared for too."

"No, it's-" Wei Wuxian pauses, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat "In Qishan - It was, difficult. I've forgotten how it felt, to have so much resentful energy around me." Lan Zhan's hand had migrated down to clasp Wei Wuxian's - warm and reassuring - and he goes on.

"I've forgotten how they whisper, Lan Zhan. Forgotten how hard it is not to listen, but I-" The hand around his tightens "But I remember you. I remember you and then it wasn't so hard not to listen anymore."

Lan Zhan looks at him for a long, long time after that, their hands intertwined with each other until it's hai shi and Wei Wuxian reluctantly untangles himself from the other man, and sleeps to the memory of Lan Zhan's warmth.

**

Two weeks pass, and a new batch of missives comes along - turning Lan Zhan's tiny writing desk into a now-familiar chaos. Wei Wuxian watches the other man carefully as they sort through the letters and requests, waits until it's Lan Zhan who selects the missives and arrays it on the floor, above the large map that they've never really rolled back up from the floor since all of this began. Waits until their eyes meet over the expanse of the map.

"Be safe, Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says to him two days later, autumn leaves crinkling under their feet and a small, almost visible smile adorning his lips as Wei Wuxian gives him his reply, always.

He makes a circuit Southward, cutting through Jiangnan to reach a village near Tangxi where children have been disappearing, and then West to Yunmeng to loop back towards Gusu and check on a series of recovering towns in Qishan.

He is on a scheduled stopover in Chongyang - A representative from the Chief Cultivator as one of the local sect holds its first region-scale discussion conference - When he is given the robe.

The woman is the mother of one of the Chongyang Chou disciples who frequents his joint Night Hunts, a seamstress by trade and apparently a well-known figure in the little Sect, as the disciples around them bows and presents their heads easily enough to be patted by her firm, plump hands. And for all that he's done for her dear little Tzuyu and the Sect, she decks Wei Wuxian in a lavish but surprisingly comfortable robe of his usual black and red.

Upon closer inspection, the black of his robes bears a fine pattern of drifting clouds, its hems bordered with bands of white embroidered with the selfsame clouds in dark azure threads, echoing the traditional Gusu pattern that he's become so familiar with.

"Thank you, Ayi," Wei Wuxian looks up, a strange prickling on the edges of his eyes "This is beautiful."

Madam Chou catches him studying the hem of his robes, and smiles indulgently "It's always nice to wear something that reminds you of home when you're on the road, Herald"

Home.

He runs a finger through the blue and white clouds, remembers the edges of Lan Zhan's own robes, soft beneath his cheeks as he falls asleep on the cradle of his lap, remembers the soft lights of the Jingshi and the warmth of Lan Zhan's embrace, and how much it feels like home.

**

"I thought you'd be wearing white," is all that Jiang Cheng grunts at him when he docks at Lotus Pier, before he turns on his heels and says nothing else, leaving Wei Wuxian to trail behind his brother. Several Jiang disciples wave at him from the practice courtyards, and Wei Wuxian hollers back at them with a promise of a spar later in the day.

He knows, however, that he hasn't visited Lotus Pier for almost a full season now - The whole business with setting up trade agreements between towns and sects and the plague taking up more time than he thought possible - and Wei Wuxian is ready and willing to mollify Jiang Cheng however his brother sees fit.

They spend the whole afternoon with Sect correspondences, Wei Wuxian falling into the rhythm easily enough with the combined ease of his routine with Lan Zhan and his own days with Jiang Cheng, so long ago in a different lifetime. It's nice, to be able to slip into a place that is his beside Jiang Cheng - like an empty groove in a sword stand that fits him and only him.

He remembers Shijie, explaining to him once he's old enough that one day, she's going to have to leave Lotus Pier to marry into another Clan. Remembers her assuring him, and later Jiang Cheng, that it's all right - because Lotus Pier will always be her home too. There will always be a place for her here, just as there will always be a place for Wei Wuxian if he ever decides to marry off outside of Lotus Pier. 

Wei Wuxian smiles at the memory, and receives a death glare from Jiang Cheng for the trouble. He sighs fondly at the man across him, at his brother, because some things truly never change.

"Jiang Cheng," he prods, and then remembers what he said back in the docks, and wonders."You know white is really not my color, right? Is it because of what people have been calling me?"

The scowl on Jiang Cheng's face deepens, and Wei Wuxian knows that he's hit bullseye "The Chief Cultivator's Herald," Jiang Cheng snorts, tearing almost savagely into an envelope while Wei Wuxian directs his gaze downwards as not to burst out laughing "What, you're working for Lan Wangji now? You're on his payroll or something? Because let me tell you we of the Yun-"

"Jiang Cheng, it's nothing like that!" Wei Wuxian cuts him off "It's not like I work for Lan Zhan or anything, more like I work, with him?"

Jiang Cheng snorts again, mutters something under his breath as he signs a document with perhaps more force than is strictly necessary.

"What?"

"I said, you might as well be as you're fine parading around as if he owns you!" He points at the cloud trimmings on his new robes almost accusingly, and Wei Wuxian frowns.

"Jiang Cheng, you're being very weird about my clothes."

"I'm being weird?" Jiang Cheng's voice breaks a little as it pitches higher "I'm being weird when you're the one who's running around with the Chief Cultivator's personal sigil hanging off your belt and then telling everyone that you're - what - work friends?"

"Wait, what?"

"I can't fucking believe this," Jiang Cheng sets down his brush before closing his eyes in what looks like a plea for strength from the Heavens before his eyes snap open once again, boring holes into Wei Wuxian as he slowly lifts the clarity bell on his belt - Slightly bigger than Wei Wuxian's own, the silver sphere carved in the shape of Jiang Cheng's own lotus crown, the hallmark of the Jiang's Sect leader.

"This used to belong to father" He grits out, both of them standing on a very thin precipice for a brief moment before Jiang Cheng continues "And it used to have an identical pair. Any guesses to who owned it?"

Wei Wuxian remembers, of course, the matching bell always hanging from Madam Yu's waist, always gleaming and polished despite her expressed disdain of it, the two bells resonating together into something beautiful in those rare moments where Wei Wuxian saw man and wife rather than Jiang Fenmian and Yu Ziyuan, and oh

He had wondered, of course about the jade pass token - identical to that of Lan Zhan's, side by side with his chenqing and Yunmeng's clarity bell. Wondered at all the glances the Gusu Lan disciples has always given it, at Jingyi's puzzlement and A-Yuan's knowing smile.

"Huh," Wei Wuxian mutters, to the world at large.

Jiang Cheng looks seconds away from throwing him, or himself into the nearest body of water, but honestly, Wei Wuxian's too busy having an epiphany to truly notice.

"And I'm going to say this now. Wei Wuxian, if you dare elope and bring even more shame to this clan than you already did, I am going to break your leg for real and not even your precious Hanguang-Jun could stop me."

**

Wei Wuxian ponders about Jiang Cheng's words, ponders about it all the way through supervising the spiritual barriers they put up in Qishan, along what used to be their campaign trail during the plague. He ponders about it all the way to the Cloud Recesses, where his worries is overridden by the need to see Lan Zhan's face. 

He hops into the Jingshi to find the man in question sitting behind his desk, frowning. Actually frowning, not the minuscule furrow of his brows that probably only he and Xichen-ge could detect, and Wei Wuxian quickly drops everything and folds himself across Lan Zhan, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at the other man.

"Lan Zhan! What's with the face?"

Wei Wuxian quietly delights in the fact that Lan Zhan doesn't immediately smooth his face into his jade-like, expressionless normal, as he is wont to do when other people are present. Delight turns to worry soon enough as the frown stays, and he plucks the offending letter from Lan Zhan's fingers.

It's apparently an invitation to this year's Annual Sect Conference - Requesting His Excellency to preside over the proceedings in the Zhong Sect's ancestral home just outside of Xianyang. The second letter - clearly written with less pomp and decorum, requests the presence of the Chief Cultivator's Herald in Xiangyang for the lesser converging of smaller and subsidiary sects.

Ah. So that's how it was.

It's true that despite his much rehabilitated reputation across the land, the Cultivation World that Lan Zhan is mired in - the larger, older sects which were present during the Sunshot campaign and its subsidiaries - has a more difficult time letting go of their preconceptions of the Yiling Patriarch. And Wei Wuxian can understand this, really. Thirteen plus years is a long time for something to sink in and take root, and it's not going to simply go away completely whatever he does.

Lan Zhan takes the letter back from his hands, a resolute, rather belligerent look in his face.

"Wei Ying is coming with me."

Wei Wuxian blinks, and then tries not to smile - covers Lan Zhan's hand with his own, tries to ignore the thrill of their touching skin and only half-succeeds "Lan Zhan, it's all right. I'll go to Xiangyang and check on the kids - You know we haven't had a Night Hunt together for so long, right?"

Lan Zhan's expression gentles slightly, and Wei Wuxian smiles in earnest, squeezing the other man's hand "And you know, whatever game Sect Leader Zhong is playing, he's really not playing this well at all. Who says I'm not going to build an army of small sects when he's not looking, hmm?"

**

The problem with some larger sects is that it's simply too large or powerful to really answer to anyone - This is what happened with the Wen Sect once upon a time, whose power was so absolute that none really dared challenge its rule and its subsequent conquest. The problem with the Hubei Zhong Sect in particular is that it is comprised of the ruling noble family of Hubei, and thus is simply not beholden to anyone nor anything to actually care for the people living around them.

As it is, this year is the first time that Hubei Zhong is granted the honor of hosting the Annual Sect Conference - An honor normally reserved for the four Great Sects until the Chief Cultivator deemed it necessary for a more even distribution of responsibilities. As such, the proud Zhongs are determined to show the Cultivation World that their Sect is worthy of the honor, and no expenses were spared in the construction for the pavillions and stands for the Grand Archery competition.

The nearby forest that borders on Meishan, it would seem, had not been spared either, as the Zhongs felled a great many trees and polluted the rivers without consideration to the old, old things that lurked beneath. Without, it would seem, the proper rituals and blessings usually reserved for such disturbances because Wei Wuxian supposes rituals are expensive and he has inside information from one Zhong Chenle -heir to the Zhong sect and a regular participant on their joint Night Hunts - that Sect Leader Zhong Suman is a complete and utter miser.

Without the rituals, without any of the blessings and precautions one usually takes, it really shouldn't be a surprise that Xiangyang is now at the mercy of a freakishly large, and very angry forest spirit, its borders overgrown with thick brambles and its streets crawling with yaoguai.

And that is how Wei Wuxian found himself with an actual small army of juniors and small sect disciples, cornered into an inn near-bursting with frightened townsfolk and a very uncooperative Zhong representative.

"Like I've said, we should stay put and wait for help to arrive - This town is under the jurisdiction of the Hubei Zhong Sect, and - "

"How many times do I have to say, that this whole fucking town is locked out by the forest spirits! Even Hanguang-Jun wouldn't be able to go through that barrier if he doesn't neutralize the spirit who made it, who is inside this town with us!"

"You dare take that tone with me? Just because you're the Chief Cultivator's favored pet doesn't mean we'll forget what you are - Who's to say that you're not behind all this?"

The room falls silent the moment the Zhong disciple finishes his spiel - leaving only the distant roaring of forest yaoguais and the slow, creeping slide of vines over the walls around them.

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, a voice in the back of his mind that sounds suspiciously like Wen Qing's telling him that hey, at least he didn't say that in front of Lan Zhan.

It is to his surprise that it's the Innkeeper who finally breaks the silence.

"Young Master Zhong, forgive this one for his insolence, but the Chief Cultivator's Herald has been here twice already to settle nearby dangers in Hubei. We have never seen any of your Sect do so. Your Lord might own our land, but this inn has been with my family for longer than he's been in power - So either you let these Young Masters to do their job, or I am going to have to ask you to leave the premises of my inn"

Somewhere behind Wei Wuxian, someone whistles, low and appreciative.

"Preposterous!" The Zhong disciple bellows, and sweeps in a flurry of pink robes up the stairs, presumably to the room he's been staying in "Sect Leader Zhong will hear of this!"

Wei Wuxian nods gratefully at the innkeeper, and makes a mental note to tell Chenle that under no circumstances is he going to let his father do anything towards the Innkeeper and his family. That done, he finally turns to get a good look at the ragtag army of disciples before him.

He's glad to see a lot of familiar faces from their joint Night Hunts. Xuxi and Dejun are already moving around to help stray disciples with their gears, while Shuhua is passing around freshly-made protective talismans. The sober greys of the Huang sect flits around everyone, patching up wounds and sometimes simply patting nervous disciples in the back. 

"Alright. What we're facing is mostly regular forest Yaoguais, but stronger because of their tether to the huge ass forest spirit over there."

A hand shoots up, almost in reflex, and a young Zhong disciple asks "What actually tethers the yaoguais to the main spirit, Senior Wei?"

"Good question, Renjun. Each of the Yaoguai you'll encounter will have a glowing orb somewhere on their body - That's the forest spirit's seed and what connects them to the main spirit - It works like a net, so the more seeds we suppress or destroy, the weaker each one of them would be. Remember that metal works best - Absolutely no water nor wood element talismans because that will only make them stronger."

"I suppose we'll take point?" Xuxi grins, hefting his sword.

Wei Wuxian nods "Just like what we did that time in Jingling - Dejun, you and your archers will cover them, and Shuhua, you'll run interference with your girls."

"The rest, split yourself between covering the Ye and surrounding the perimeter of the inn in case anything happens. Anyone who's hurt, or sees anyone else hurt, you take them back here. Guanheng, you and the rest of the Huangs will stay here to heal."

The disciples around him chorus in assent.

"Senior Wei, what about the…huge-ass forest spirit?" Xuxi asks, wide eyes made even wider as they finally step out to the thicket-laden streets.

"You leave that to me"

**

In retrospect, he might have been just a bit too confident.

**

Wei Wuxian wakes up to a world of pain and people arguing, because it would seem that's the two constant that he should just expect in life.

"-Completely overstepped sect authorities!"

"With all due respect, Sect Leader Zhong, we weren't  just going to sit down and wait to be eaten by trees!"

"-Like I said, you're bandaging that all wrong! What manner of poultice is that even -"

Oh Heavens. Wei Wuxian winces as he tries to move, opens his eyes to an unfamiliar, yet decidedly decadent ceiling. Not Lanling Jin-calibre opulence, but opulent enough that this is definitely the Zhong ancestral's compound and huh, how did that happen?

"Senior Wei! You're awake!" Someone shouts, and Wei Wuxian winces again.

"Good, now that the Demonic Cultivator that caused all this ruckus is awake, maybe he might deign to explain why he led a gaggle of children on an unauthorized use of force within my borders!"

"Father, for shame!" Oh, Chenle. Wei Wuxian tries to raise himself up again, because bad parenting or no, he's definitely not going to let himself be the reason for Zhong Suman to disown his son.

And then, of course, Lan Zhan sweeps into the room - The colorful crowd of various disciples parting like fine silk to the blade of Hanguang-Jun's regal steps, gasps and whispers of "Hanguang-Jun!"trampling over one another. Wei Wuxian lets himself fall back into the bed.

Lan Zhan's eyes immediately locks on his, slightly wider, slightly wilder than he's used to seeing them, and Wei Wuxian unconsciously reaches out to him, wants to hold his hand, tell him that he's here, he's all right and he's not going anywhere.

Lan Zhan reaches him in three elegant strides, hand immediately seeking his despite the veritable circus of their surroundings. 

"Wei Ying."

"I'm al-" He catches the beginning of a frown on on Lan Zhan's brows, and chuckles weakly "I'll live, Lan Zhan."

Lan Zhan fixes him with a long, hard stare before he finally turns to his assembled audience. His hand stays around Wei Wuxian's - warm and familiar and Lan Zhan's.

"Sect Leader Zhong," Lan Zhan says, and icy doesn't even begin to cut it. There's a reason, Wei Wuxian thinks, that a large swathe of the Cultivation world - half of them people almost twice his age - is mortally afraid of the Chief Cultivator.

"Why was I not immediately informed about the disturbances in Xiangyang, and that there were cultivators and Disciples directly endangered by said disturbances?"

"Ah, Your Excellency, we did not want to disturb the proceedings for such a trivial matter - Our best disciples were handling the matter as we were continuing with the conferences. Truly, there was no cause for worry," somewhere in the crowd, someone lets out an indignant sound.

"We were not," Chenle cuts in, hands balled into fists as he stares down his father, who's now spluttering in equal rage and Wei Wuxian wonders if it will just make everything worse if he tries to stop the boy "None of us knew what to do with the barrier and wouldn't have been able to do anything with it from outside Xiangyang. If Senior Wei had not taken charge and directed the disciples, then there probably won't be a Xiangyang at all at this moment!"

"I was also made aware," Lan Zhan says "That the Hubei Zhong Sect has not been keeping with their responsibilites of blessing rituals required of them towards the land - Hence the disturbances from the forest spirits. This matter will, of course, be taken into discussion in tomorrow's conference, and I request Sect Leader Zhong's cooperation."

Zhong Suman opens his mouth, and then closes them again only for him to bow, low and hurried before he turns on his heels - Just as Lan Zhan continues.

"One last thing," there is a dangerous, dangerous gleam in Lan Zhan's eyes and were he not sure that shouting would hurt like hell, Wei Wuxian would've probably shouted for Sect Leader Zhong to just run "What is it I've heard that one of my own has violated your Sect's authority? Would Sect Leader Zhong care to elaborate?"

Pompous and morally bankrupt as he might be, Zhong Suman is definitely not stupid. His face twists into an appeasing smile, eyes wild as he looks at Wei Wuxian, at their joined hands "Apologies, Your Excellency. It would seem that there had been a misunderstanding - I assure you our errant disciple in Xiangyang would be disciplined accordingly, and that your Herald will receive the best treatment from our finest healers over here" He gestures at the healer who's, apparently been beside Wei Wuxian all this time.

"Yo-your Excellency," the healer stammers, eyes downcast and wringing his hands "The Herald sustained no serious injuries, he just needs rest and a transfer of spiritual energy to hasten his recovery, here, I shall-"

"I'll do it," Lan Zhan intones blankly, gesturing at their already joined hands.

"Your Excellency need not trouble himself," Zhong Suman interjects "Our healers are truly - "

"He is my Herald, is he not?" Lan Zhan's voice cuts him off, icy and honestly terrifying, as his gaze surveys the crowd before him and falls on Guanheng "Young master Huang, would it trouble you to stay and give proper care for your Senior? The rest of you can leave us"

Guanheng's normally placid face breaks into a quiet yet very satisfied smile.

"It would be this disciple's honor to do so, your Excellency," he steps forward, subtly nudging the Zhong healer out of the way and really, Guanheng used to be such a polite kid when he first met him. Chenle too. Wei Wuxian wonders, rather hazily, if Lan Qiren is right and that he is really a corrupting influence on the youth.

The healer bows profusely before scurrying away, leaving Sect Leader Zhong to perform another stiff bow as the crowd around the door finally disperses and Wei Wuxian is finally afforded the calm befitting an injured person.

"Lan Zhan, that was mean."

"Mn," Lan Zhan murmurs above him, even as Guanheng starts to survey his bandaged torso in earnest, frown in place.

"Senior Wei, I'm going to give you some serious dose of poppy milk. That Zhong healer clearly doesn't know what he's doing, so I'll have to redo all these bandages and it's not going to feel pretty."

"Much appreciated, A-Heng."

He survives being unwrapped and then wrapped up again in bandages and poultices, like some weird oversized zongzi, Guanheng's hands steady and Lan Zhan's even steadier as he feeds him a small stream of spiritual energy, its warmth reducing the pain to a dull throbbing ache.

"Sorry," Wei Wuxian mumbles, after Guanheng's bowed his leave, leaving the tow of them finally, finally alone. The poppy milk slurs his words, making everything fuzzy around the edges "Didn't mean to be careless. Too much people that could get hurt -  Not enough time, and these kids, they're just kids-"

"Sssh," Lan Zhan lays a gentle finger on Wei Wuxian's lips "Already know Wei Ying tried to be careful."

Wei Wuxian nods, squeezes his eyes shut as he nuzzles into Lan Zhan's hand -  the gentle, golden thrum of Lan Zhan's energy coursing through his veins so, so close, as if they were one, somehow. Giddily, he wonders if being this close with someone is possible, if being this close with someone is even allowed

"Lan Zhan."

"Mm?"

"You know I would happily be your anything, right? Herald, friend, confidant. Anything" He insists, even as he fights to keep his eyes open, because this is important, somehow "Anything so I can be with you."

Lan Zhan's answering hum in unfamiliar, as is the look in his eyes as he gazes down at him.

"I know," Lan Zhan whispers, and says nothing else as Wei Wuxian drifts off to sleep.

**

They return to Gusu as soon as it's safe for Wei Wuxian to be moved - which, thanks to his own incessant whining, is probably a few days before the normally allowed time, if Guanheng's defeated sigh and very specific instructions on how to transport him is any indication. Lan Zhan acquiesces anyway, wrapping his arm gently yet firmly around his waist as they mount Bichen.

He comes back to his rooms in the Cloud Recesses to find the sitting room packed with gifts. Crates, packages of every shape and size, and piles of letters on his already haphazard living space.

"A lot of it came when they heard that Senior Wei was injured in Xiangyang," Lan Yongqin informs him as Lan Zhan helps him settle into bed, and then notices the crate of Suqian wine that he quickly snatches up "Oh, also Guanheng messaged me that you're strictly on the congee and tea kind of diet until your stomach heals fully, so I'll be keeping these safe until Head healer gives you the thumbs up" The disciple winks as he leaps away with his wine (Because, as Wei Wuxian once said to him, leaping is not actually running and oh no, he is a corrupting influence on the youth)

"Brats," Wei Wuxian grouses as Lan Wangji firmly sets him up in his bed, drawing up the blankets primly up to his chest as if he's dying or something.

"It is a bit excessive, though, isn't it?" Wei Wuxian laughs, waving his arm to the mess that is now his sitting room. Heavens, he wonders if he could play the sick father so A-Yuan would somehow tidy it up. Or any Lan disciple, really. They're all frighteningly efficient in tidying up.

"Wei Ying deserves it," Lan Zhan says, as if it's a point of contention, the unfamiliar look simmering, simmering behind his golden eyes and Wei Wuxian wonders.

**

Lan Zhan comes with him in his next outing three weeks later, which Wei Wuxian thinks is a tad superfluous. 

"Lan Zhan," he whines, over the rush of wind all around them, Lan Zhan's arms secure around his middle as Wei Wuxian tries not to squirm with sheer feelings, "You really don't have to go with me, you know - I'm totally all right and I'll totally be careful - "

"Missed doing Night Hunts with Wei Ying," Lan Zhan cuts him off, voice infuriatingly level and so deep, so close to Wei Wuxian's ears that it's just wholly unfair, and what is a man supposed to reply to that, anyway?

Wei Wuxian decides that there's no way out of it but to enjoy it, and enjoy it he does. Despite all his lone wanderings, despite all the Night Hunts he's done with the myriad of people he's met on the road, there is no one who works with him like Lan Zhan does. No one who can anticipate his every move, and in turn moves in a way that Wei Wuxian too, would gladly anticipate and respond to, no one who covers his side so securely, and trusts him to do so for him just as much.

They move through the woods together like a dance, and Wei Wuxian flits from tree to tree, corrals spirits and fierce corpses to Lan Zhan's waiting blade. The duet of his dizi and Lan Zhan's guqin pierces through the dense woods as they cleanse the air and it's perfect.

It's perfect even when it starts to rain, and they run, Wei Wuxian laughing breathlessly all the way, to the shelter of a nearby cave.

After making sure that the cave is uninhabited - by animals and restless spirits alike - Lan Zhan insists on building a fire to dry him off, lest Wei Wuxian catch a cold. Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes good-naturedly, and doesn't complain when Lan Zhan pulls him closer, laying his head on his lap as he had so many weeks ago, after Qishan.

"Aw Lan Zhan, are you trying to get me to sleep? I'm not tired yet!" he whines, glancing up at Lan Zhan before he is struck by how familiar this all is - The cave around them, the fire, the way that Lan Zhan is gazing down at him. And then -

"Wei Ying."

Wei Wuxian's snap to attention, because it's that something in Lan Zhan's voice again. The one he's heard only in bits and pieces, the one that means something he can't quite decipher yet.

His hand finds Lan Zhan's almost by reflex, fingers lacing together in a gesture that's become so ingrained into him now that he doesn't know what he'd do without it. He squeezes, once, as if in reassurance, despite not knowing where Lan Zhan is going to take him on this.

"In Xiangyang. When Wei Ying said that he'd happily be my anything, did Wei Ying really mean it?"

Wei Wuxian's breath catches for one brief moment, a jolt of mingled panic and remembrance that he did say that out loud, he did say that out loud and Lan Zhan had heard -

"I did," he says, instead "I mean - I do, Lan Zhan. Anything."

"Back in the Xuanwu cave," Lan Zhan continues, and it clicks on Wei Wuxian's head, the vague memory of it all - Lan Zhan's gentle embrace, the quiet song that was his only tether to just hold on, hold on just a bit more  "I told Wei Ying much the same thing, but I did not have the courage to say it when we would both remember. And that was my mistake."

Wei Wuxian opens his mouth to protest because certainly that wasn't anyone's mistake - They were seventeen. Seventeen and in love in a burning world, but Lan Zhan looks down at him, quelling the words on the tip of his tongue.

"Wei Ying said that he would happily be my anything," Wei Wuxian watches, barely daring to breathe, as Lan Zhan slowly unties his forehead ribbon, the white silk soft against his skin as Lan Zhan gently, almost reverently, winds it around Wei Wuxian's wrist. And then Lan Zhan's golden eyes are upon his, molten honey and gentle affection and everything, everything Wei Wuxian has never dared to hope for.

"Would he then also be happy to be my husband and Cultivation Partner?"

"Lan Zhan," he breathes, a hot prickling at the edges of his eyes that he doesn't even try to stop "Lan Zhan, did you just propose to me?"

There is the barest upward quirk of Lan Zhan's lips "Yes."

They are perhaps miles away from the Cloud Recesses, from anywhere at all, but Lan Zhan's arms are warm around him as Wei Wuxian whispers his yes into his lips and his skin, yes, yes, yes. And as he looks up at Lan Zhan through his tears, Wei Wuxian thinks that oh, he is finally, finally home.

**

Their honeymoon, as it is, is a month-long night Hunt across Jiangnan.

Wei Wuxian thinks they more than deserve this, after the absolute nightmare of not eloping and having to do not one but two ceremonies in both Gusu and Yunmeng. 

Xichen-ge seem to think so too, if his willingness to temporarily break seclusion so he could handle his brother's work as His Excellency is any indication. The older man waves them goodbye with a tired yet fond smile, and Wei Wuxian prays that Xichen-ge would somehow develop a fondness for scaring sect leaders as for him to consider not going back to Seclusion.

They start off with forests and hills, because two very large, very political intersect marriage ceremonies is enough to put even Wei Wuxian off human beings that are not Lan Zhan for at least two weeks.

They emerge from the hills to trek down the route Wei Wuxian usually take South, the small towns and villages familiar yet novel all at the same time now that he's not on his own. Lan Zhan's arms are warm and unashamed around his waist as people shower them with congratulations and teasing alike until Wei Wuxian feels his whole face to be on fire.

Lan Zhan's ears does not even have a hint of red. 

"Should we be calling you the Chief Cultivator's Husband instead, then?" The innkeeper winks at him, only for Lan Zhan to press him even closer to his side, the corners of his lips lifting up visibly in a smile.

"Yes" Lan Zhan says simply, to the delighted cry of the old innkeeper and Wei Wuxian burying his face into Lan Zhan's shoulder, even as he also nods his assent. Because yes, he is the Yiling Patriarch, he is the Chief Cultivator's Herald, and he is Lan Zhan's husband, and Wei Wuxian is all right being called any of that.

He's fine with being called anything at all, because he's finally, finally Lan Zhan's.

**