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He knew that it was a bad idea to let Lan Yuan stay at Lotus Pier while he was away, but the child had requested it, wanting to spend time with Jin Ling, and he hadn’t been able to find a good enough reason to refuse.
Unfortunately, while Jiang Cheng was a responsible man and a capable guardian, he had somehow also allowed the two young children to escape his supervision and run amok, obviously resulting in them visiting the numerous street vendors scattered around Lotus Pier. More specifically, the sweet vendors.
This meant he now had to deal with a hyperactive child all the way back to Gusu. He supposed he had nobody but himself to blame, as he had known this would happen the second he said goodbye the day before.
“A-Yuan, it is time for us to leave,” he extended a hand to his son. Lan Yuan looked between Jin Ling and his father before giving the former a swift hug and running to take hold of his father’s proffered hand.
Lan Wangji turned his attention to Jiang Cheng, inclining his head. “Thank you for taking care of my son on such short notice. I hope we have not made too much of an imposition on your time.”
“Not at all. Lan Yuan behaved perfectly as usual,” Jiang Cheng’s eyes flickered down to his nephew as he said this.
“We will be taking our leave now. Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you to return the favour.” Lan Wangji inclined his head again.
“Please, it wasn’t an inconvenience. Perhaps you’d let him come more often, maybe his good behaviour will start to rub off on A-Ling.”
The small boy by his uncle’s side stuck out his tongue at that remark, which fortunately went unobserved by the two adults, although Lan Yuan did pull his hand from his father’s grip so that he could press it over his mouth to stifle a giggle.
Lan Wangji’s only response to the comment was to utter a small noise of either consent or dismissal as he reclaimed his son’s hand and turned to leave.
As they weaved through the crowds on the piers, the young boy made sure to point out all of the places Jin Ling had taken him during his stay. Lan Wanji found himself feeling rather dismayed at the sheer number of sweet stalls the two children had visited.
Then Lan Yuan pointed to a small vendor selling folded paper butterflies and the elder felt something twinge in his chest.
“Would you like one?” he asked, seeing the child’s wistful expression. He was met with enthusiastic nodding and a smile, so he handed a coin to his son and watched as he picked out one of the intricately crafted butterflies. Clutching his prize in his hand, he returned to Lan Wangji’s side and wrapped his arms around his father’s waist. Lan Wangji rested a hand on his head and allowed the hug for a few moments, before extracting himself and continuing on his way. Lan Yuan’s small legs taking twice as many steps to keep up with his father’s long strides.
When they reached the outer border of Lotus Pier, Lan Wangji paused and unsheathed Bichen, calling the sword to hover a little off the ground. Having frequently travelled like this before, Lan Yuan was well aware of the protocol so, when Lan Wangji stooped, he extended his arms to wrap them around his neck, one small hand still gripping the butterfly. Lan Wangji straightened, wrapping his arms around the child securely as he stepped onto the sword and began their ascent.
Flying was by far the fastest method of travel and yet it still took some time to reach the Cloud Recesses from Yunmeng.
Normally on these long flights, Lan Yuan would rest his head on Lan Wangji’s shoulder and fall asleep, or simply watch the scenery pass by in silence. However, the amount of sweets the child had consumed meant that he was unusually chatty.
He wanted to tell his father all about the time he spent with Jin Ling, who struggled to hide his surprise at the sheer amount of stuff the two children had managed to accomplish in less than two days. He had known someone else who would have behaved like that.
While Lan Wangji was not ignoring the child, he was content to let Lan Yuan chatter mindlessly while he concentrated on flying. That was until the little boy began to describe how he had met some of the young Yunmeng disciples at the training ground and his attention snapped back to the conversation.
"They say that the Yiling Patriarch left something buried in the mountains. It's a chest filled with his greatest treasure!"
It was barely perceptible, but Bichen wavered slightly in the air.
"And who told you this?" Lan Wangji did well to hide the slight tremor in his voice.
"All of the disciples were taking about it! Jin Ling says he's going to find it when he's older!"
"Mnn."
"Some of the disciples think that it's a weapon the Yiling Patriarch left behind so that others could complete his evil deeds. Jin Ling says that he probably left his soul in it!" The boy still had his head resting on Lan Wangji’s chest, so the latter couldn’t see his son’s face, but he could hear the excitement tinged with curiosity and apprehension.
“Rumours are normally just that – rumours, A-Yuan. Don’t let yourself get caught up in the idle gossip of the masses,” Lan Wangji said.
What he did not tell his son, as the child continued to recount his adventures, was that the rumour was true. Just not in way he thought.
---
There had been several disturbances on the mountain. Rogue spirits, noises coming from a cave and strange occurrences. Rumours were spreading that, with the Yiling Patriarch’s recent death, the rogue cultivator had nonetheless something to do with it. People were desperate to explain away any inexplicable occurrences.
Lan Wangji was not one to believe in rumours, as they never normally came to any fruition, but, at that point, he was willing to latch onto anything. So he did not dismiss it, but rather decided to offer his services to the village at the base of the mountain.
The people of the small village could offer him no more information, other than what he had already gleaned from the whispers and speculations. Though, what they said seemed to dispel most of the rumours: they had not noticed anything particularly untoward or malicious. There was indeed a cave in the mountain but, while the rumours wildly predicted a dangerous weapon or a trapped and haunted soul, the villagers had noted no actually violent events, since they avoided the cave itself as much as possible, explaining away any noises as animals that lived on the moutain.
He was tempted to turn away, with reassurances from the village that, while they were grateful that such a preeminent cultivator had come to help them, they did not feel they were in any imminent danger.
Yet, that afternoon, he found himself climbing the steep forest trail to the mouth of the cave.
As he drew closer to the entrance, he began to feel a faint spiritual resonance. But rather than making him wary, it seemed familiar, welcoming almost, completely at odds with the expectations set up by the rumours.
There were no spiritual barriers in place, nothing to prevent his entry.
There was no reason others should not have come here before him, tempted by the rumours of power. Perhaps they already had, and all he would find was a plundered, empty cavern.
The sunlight filtered in from gaps in the roof, meaning that his way was well lit.
He noticed that the layer of dust and silt on the ground lay undisturbed, as though he was the only one to have walked here in a long time.
Crouching low at the entrance to a small tunnel, Lan Wangji emerged to find himself in a small chamber. There was the sound of gentle dripping, as water droplets fell from the roof into a small pool. The ripples refracted the dim light.
Resting unassumingly on the bank of this small pool, teetering on the edge of a stone as if it were about to tip into the water and was yet managing to maintain its grip on the rock, was a small, black object.
He reached out his spiritual aura, and, sensing no malice from it, he picked it up.
It was a small box, rather ornate, with what Lan Wangji noted to be the cloud symbols of the Gusu Lan sect etched into the edges. That was strange. He hadn't been aware that Wei Wuxian had owned anything pertaining to the Lan sect.
While it looked like a box, there were no obvious hinges where it might be opened, or groove to indicate a lid. Perhaps it wasn't a box at all, but rather a paperweight or something of the sort that Wei Wuxian had commissioned while he was alive.
Lan Wangji traced his fingers over the surface, tapping it gently with his fingertips.
His touch faltered.
He tapped the wood again. There was definitely a faint echoing sound. Though heavy, the wood was hollow - which meant that there was probably something inside it.
Lan Wangji wasn't the type to shake such an item, like a child trying to work out what was inside a wrapped present, but he was tempted to right then.
Wei Wuxian had obviously intended to make it difficult for anyone to open this box. He'd left no indication of what it contained, nor how to access it.
Perhaps he could call on some spirits in the cave. They may have been present when the box was placed there.
He carefully unstrapped the guqin from his back and set it carefully on the floor beside the pool of water. Laying his fingers across the strings, he began to pluck out the melody to Inquiry.
Some droplets of water began to rise from the pool, floating towards him. But before they could reach the strings, Lan Wangji heard a small click from beside him.
Resting his fingers on the strings, he stopped the echoing notes and glanced down at the box. Where there had been smooth wood, now there was a seam running around the middle, wrapping around the sides of the box.
Reaching down, Lan Wangji picked it up carefully, turning it in his hands. There was still no indication of where the hinge might be, so instead he simply gripped one half in each hand and gave a gentle tug.
The lid of the box slowly drew open in his hands, folding backwards into his palm.
Finally, he eased the lid up fully so that it rested at a right angle to the bottom half, revealing that the box was in fact hollow, although, at first glance, there appeared to be nothing inside it.
Then the first few notes sounded. In the very bottom of the box, a few small metal components ground to life and began to turn.
Notes began to pour forth from the little box in his palm, played in the plinking way that music boxes sound.
The notes began to come together to form a melody and that's when Lan Wangji couldn’t stop his breath from hitching and his hand tightened on the wood.
He recognised the tune. It was one he hadn't heard in many years. One that was played in a cave similar to this, as two young boys nursed their wounds and tried to keep their exhausted eyes from falling shut. It was the tune he had played to Wei Ying after they had defeated the Xuanwu all those years ago.
A tear fell down Lan Wangji's cheek unbidden and then another until two silent tracks were being carved down his face.
The music kept playing, the tinkling metal sounding out notes that echoed in the enclosed space. Notes that Wei Ying had remembered all those years ago and had placed in a box.
No one else would understand what this melody truly meant. This box had been left for Lan Wangji and Lan Wangji alone.
The notes were slowing and fading away. The little handle must have been wound up before the box was shut and it now needed winding again.
Lan Wangji reached inside the box and began to turn the tiny handle protruding from the inside of the lid.
It was then that a small etching on the inside caught his eye. Two small words were engraved on the inside of the lid, so small it would be quite easy to miss them. But Lan Wangji saw them and, as he sat on the cave floor, letting the quiet notes echo around him, he heard the words spoken in his mind as though someone was sitting right beside him and whispering them in his ear.
Lan Zhan
It turned out that the Yiling Patriarch's greatest treasure hadn't been a weapon, or a secret fortune. Nor was it his soul, although perhaps it could be considered part of it.
It was a music box. A music box that played a tune only two people in the world knew. A music box left for one of those two people to find.
Lan Wangji let the music fade away one more time and whispered his reply into the silence.
"Wei Ying."