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Chapter Text

Jiang Cheng is having a great day. An alliance is going smoothly and a profitable business agreement has just been reached. All is well in Lotus Pier.

“…Yeah, I heard he’s still bedridden.”

“That’s what I heard, too! Everyone’s talking about it now.”

“Apparently, the fight lasted two straight days.”

“No way…”

Passing by the training grounds, Jiang Cheng shakes his head. These rascals are clearly slacking off again if they have the spare energy to gossip, and so loudly at that. They’re due for a good thrashing, Jiang Cheng thinks. Tsk, tsk.

“…Of course it’s possible. Who do you think we’re talking about here?”

“But that’s what I’m saying. Who doesn’t know of Hanguang-Jun’s devotion? Him of all people?”

“Hmph! Well it didn’t stop him from trying to kill Wei-qianbei. I guess true love doesn’t exist after all!”

Jiang Cheng stops dead. He turns, making a beeline for the little crowd.

“What did you say?!”

… … …

Two young men are walking briskly towards the Jingshi. They’re meant to be leaving soon for a night hunt but even as their destination comes into view, Lan Jingyi’s hands are still fumbling at his hip, trying to secure his lopsided waistband. Matching his pace, his companion shoots him periodical glances. After the fifth one, Lan Jingyi cannot resist piping up.

“Aiya, Sizhui, I know! But we’re already late. Hanguang-Jun is going to scold us.”

Lan Sizhui’s eyebrow twitches. Who is going to be scolded exactly? Someone is surely going to be assigned more lines for not maintaining a proper appearance, he wants to say, eyeing his fellow disciple’s slightly tangled hair.

“Yes and you’re not even finished copying your previous lines,” Lan Sizhui reminds him. “How are you still oversleeping so often? We’re not kids anymore. A few more times and you’ll be copying lines into the new year!” For the record, it’s only late spring.

With a roll of his eyes, Lan Jingyi replies, “What does age have to do with it? As if we don’t know how much Wei-qianbei sleeps. If not for Hanguang-Jun, he could probably stay in bed all day!”

Lan Sizhui coughs. Jingyi, ah. If Wei-qianbei stays in bed all day, Hanguang-Jun might just be the reason. He doesn’t say this out loud.

“Maybe Wei-qianbei isn’t even up yet,” Lan Jingyi is saying. He fishes out a small mirror from his qiankun pouch and begins checking his appearance. He’s taken to bringing the mirror specifically for such occasions and his practiced motions goes to show how many times he’s had use for it.

Lan Sizhui helps him flatten a stubborn piece of hair. “All right, all right, put that away and stop talking about Wei-qianbei like that. We’re nearly there.”

But soon these matters become the least of their worries.

Crash!

Just as they reach the Jingshi’s courtyard gate, they hear something break violently from within. It’s quickly followed by more loud thumps and then a window frame cracks, sending splinters showering outwards. Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi exchange alarmed looks and, as one, they rush towards the front door. They have no time to react — the door is flung open from the inside and a blur of red bursts out, nearly barrelling them over.

“Wei-qianbei?!”

Lan Jingyi’s shocked call goes completely unnoticed and his next words turn into a gasp when a gleaming blade steals out the door next, bearing down on Wei Wuxian’s retreating back.

“Do not run!”

It’s Lan Wangji. He follows closely behind his sword, catching the hilt in one hand, the deadly edge overflowing with an icy and intense energy. In a single leap, he catches up with Wei Wuxian who is nearly at the gate. Still frozen at the door, the two younger men subconsciously take a step back from the pressure of Lan Wangji’s spiritual energy, overwhelming even with a fair distance between them. They can only watch in shell-shocked fascination.

A deep, unsettled feeling is rising in Lan Sizhui’s chest. This is nothing like the teasing and play-fighting they are used to seeing from their seniors. There is genuine fury in Lan Wangji’s every move and every swing of Bichen is seeking blood. Lan Sizhui lets out an involuntary cry as the blade misses Wei Wuxian by a hair. In this moment, Lan Sizhui has no doubt that if Hanguang-Jun had Wangji Qin in hand, he would be putting it to full use as well.

Lan Sizhui’s feet move beneath him without thinking, carrying him towards the two figures struggling against each other. Lan Jingyi is hot on his heals. As they approach, they only then realize that their seniors are clad only in their inner garments but they’ve no energy to contemplate this. Wei Wuxian is yelling something in Lan Wangji’s face, furious in a way they’ve never heard.

“Lan Wangji, you bastard! It was you, right?”

The two disciples have no idea what Wei Wuxian is asking but Lan Wangji doesn’t answer him anyway.

“Give it to me.”

“Why should I, hm? Is it yours? What gives you the right?”

“Give it to me.”

Chenqing, Lan Sizhui realizes. Lan Wangji is trying to take the flute gripped tightly in Wei Wuxian’s hand. Why? It barely matters. Something is very wrong. 

“Jingyi, go and bring Zewu-Jun. Now!“

Lan Jingyi runs.

Wei Wuxian is laughing. Lan Sizhui can hear no trace of that warmth and comfort he’s grown so familiar with. His heart sinks further.

“You keep saying you want to drag me back to Cloud Recesses — I didn’t expect you to do it this way! What, that wasn’t enough and now you want to take Chenqing as well?”

“It is not yours to keep! It belongs to—!”

“Not mine? Hah! What are you trying to pull? If you want me to prove it, I’ll play along this time!”

Lan Wangji’s eyes widen as a pulse of yin energy forces him backwards, rippling outwards with the red-clothed man at its epicentre. There’s a beat of unnatural silence before a chilling whisper drifts through the air, quickly crescendoing into a shrill scream.

Lan Sizhui’s hands fly up to cover his ears — it does not help. The sound is coming from everywhere and no where all at once and Lan Sizhui cannot tell if it even exists.

“Wei-qianbei! Stop!” He doesn’t know what to do. “Hanguang-Jun!” Lan Sizhui can barely think over his rising panic. He doesn’t understand what’s going on. Desperation grows but the dark swathes of yin energy bar his attempts to approach. His sword is drawn, swinging against the fluid obstacle, but he may as well be using his bare fists for all the good it’s doing.

Lan Wangji does not appear to have the same problem. Blue spiritual energy is flowing out to meet the lazily swirling dark cloud and Bichen is ready in his hand once again. With a resonant clang, the blade crashes down against the black flute raised to meet it.    

“Lan Wangji, Lan Er-gongzi,” Wei Wuxian says. His voice is so low that Lan Sizhui strains to catch it over the hum of raw energy in the air. “You cowards. As much as you so-called cultivators of the righteous path want to exterminate the Wen remnants, I didn’t think you of all people would resort to such methods. If you ever considered me a friend, you will let me go.”

These words finally have some effect. Lan Wangji is taken aback for just a second and it’s enough of an opening for Wei Wuxian to move. But instead of backwards, he rushes at Lan Wangji.

“Wei-qianbei, watch out!”

It’s too late. Bichen sinks into Wei Wuxian’s unguarded shoulder and drags along his flesh as he presses forward as if he can’t feel any pain. He didn’t have any intention of dodging in the first place. His fingers are already closing around the jade pendant hanging from Lan Wangji’s waist when Lan Wangji catches on and knocks his hand away. The pendant lands in the grass with a dull thump, decorated with drops of scarlet.

Wei Wuxian makes a sound of frustration and lunges towards the fallen object — the key to crossing Cloud Recesses’ barriers — and is vaguely surprised when Lan Wangji does not stop him. Instead, a different pair of arms reach for him. It’s the Lan disciple that remained behind whom he’d noticed but paid no mind to. Even now, Wei Wuxian is unconcerned. This disciple cannot be more than a year or two younger than him but Wei Wuxian is confident that he can easily overpower him…yet he doesn’t. Lan Wangji asks a question that has him furrowing his brow.

“Who are you?”

The courtyard comes to a standstill.

“Who…?” Wei Wuxian is visibly confused. “What the hell? Lan Zhan, have you been possessed?”

Lan Sizhui, in the middle of trying to get a good look at Wei Wuxian’s wound, has a rather horrifying epiphany. His eyes dart between his Wei-qianbei and Hanguang-Jun. Could it be…? Carefully, he speaks up. “Hanguang-Jun, what are you talking about?”

A frown flits across Lan Wangji’s face. He seems to finally register something, piecing together his observations now that there was a moment of calm.

“Wei…qianbei?”

Lan Sizhui nods vigorously.

“You mean… But that’s…not possible. Wei Ying is…”

Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian has had enough. He’s perfectly aware that the other Lan disciple had left to call for help — his window for escaping is slipping away. However, the young man clinging onto his uninjured arm exceeds his expectations and apparently anticipates his thoughts. Wei Wuxian feels the grip on his arm tighten.  

“Wei-qianbei, please listen! No one is trying to…um, hold you here.” Lan Sizhui takes a deep breath. “Wei-qianbei, I’m A-Yuan. Do you remember?”

The incredulous look Lan Sizhui receives in response is not surprising but still disappointing.

“A-Yuan? Did Lan Zhan mention that name to you?” Wei Wuxian scoffs. “What year is this, hm? Have you Gusu Lan disciples finally learned how to lie? Still not good at it though—!”

He jerks back as Lan Sizhui as good as yells a number enthusiastically into his ear. Reflexively, Wei Wuxian gives him a good whack upside the head.

“What are you screaming for?!”

“Wei-qianbei asked what year it is,” Lan Sizhui mumbles, head lowered. Bewildered, Wei Wuxian detects a hint of hurt in his voice.

“I didn’t mean it literally…wait. What did you say? What year is it?”

Lan Sizhui repeats himself. “It’s true,” he adds. “Wei-qianbei, Hanguang-Jun. One must not tell lies.”

“…What kind of insane joke is this?”     

Across from the pair, Lan Wangji still hasn’t said a word. He doesn’t get a chance to either. Huffing and puffing, Lan Jingyi chooses this time to return with Lan Xichen in tow, followed by an incredibly displeased Lan Qiren.

Taking in the scene, Lan Xichen’s expression becomes aghast and he hurries forward. “Wangji, what is going on? A-Xian, your arm! Why are you all just standing outside?”

“Wei-qianbei! You’re bleeding so much!” Lan Jingyi rushes straight to Wei Wuxian’s other side, fingers fluttering over the injured arm but not daring to touch. He finally deems one area safe and grabs on gently, looking between the still sluggishly bleeding gash and Lan Wangji in utter disbelief.

Wei Wuxian appears to have resigned himself to the Lan disciples’ manhandling. Looking completely unbothered by the blood now staining his entire sleeve a darker shade of red, he lifts his hands in a passable greeting to his seniors. It’s a slightly odd sight with Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi still hanging onto each limb.

“Zewu-Jun, Old Master Lan, I should be the one asking what’s going on.”

At this, it’s Lan Xichen’s turn to be taken aback. On the other hand, Lan Qiren’s temper seems to have been ignited.

“Wei Wuxian, watch your tone. After all these years, I’d hoped Wangji would knock some manners into you. And you!” Abruptly, Lan Qiren raises a severe finger to point at the younger of his two nephews. Lan Wangji blinks. “Is his shoulder Bichen’s doing or have my eyes deceived me? Is this how Gusu Lan disciples are taught to treat their cultivation partners? Have you lost your mind?!”

“Shufu, calm down…” Lan Xichen puts a concerned hand out to support Lan Qiren whose face is reddening, goatee quivering, but he’s waved away.

Lan Qiren isn’t finished. “Back then, weren’t you, Lan Wangji, the one who raised hell to chase after him and bring him back?! And now what is this? You’re regretting it?! After you two have caused so much trouble for the sect?!”

“Shufu, Wangji would not,” Lan Xichen tries placating even as he turns questioning eyes onto his didi. “Let us ask them what has happened first. Wangji? Wuxian?”  

Wei Wuxian huffs a laugh. “Zewu-Jun, don’t you think you’re asking too much of me? First, I wake up expecting to go attend little Jin-gongzi’s month-old celebration but instead I’m suddenly in a place I don’t know. As an additional pleasant surprise, Wangji-xiong here tries to steal my flute. Then, this little xiongdi—” He pats Lan Sizhui’s shoulder. “—tries to tell me many years have passed since I went to bed last night. Now, the Old Master is saying something about…what was it? Cultivation partners? I thought you Gusu Lan disciples held that particularly sacred. Is it appropriate to joke about something like that?”

While addressing Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren, Wei Wuxian naturally doesn’t spare any attention for Lan Wangji who is frozen behind him. He doesn’t see, as Lan Sizhui does, Lan Wangji’s face turn a few shades paler.

No one speaks for a moment, evidently digesting Wei Wuxian’s words. Belatedly and rather obsoletely at this point, Lan Sizhui takes the opportunity to say, “Zewu-Jun, Old Master…Sizhui believes Hanguang-Jun and Wei-qianbei may be experiencing a lapse in memory.”

Judging by Lan Qiren’s expression, he has come to the same conclusion.

Lan Xichen also nods absently. “It would appear so.” He’s still worried about Wei Wuxian’s injury — one left by Bichen is nothing to scoff at — but he knows Wei Wuxian would hardly let them help him while still believing that they’re concocting an elaborate lie.

“Wangji, Wei-gongzi. I know it may seem ludicrous to you both but Sizhui is telling the truth.” He turns to his ashen-faced brother first. “Wangji, what year do you think it is?”

When Lan Wangji replies, his voice is faint. Upon hearing his answer, both Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren draw in a sharp breath. After a quick calculation, Lan Sizhui’s eyes widen and he immediately understands their reaction. Catching Lan Jingyi’s eye, he knows Lan Jingyi has caught on as well. Wei Wuxian, though, is frowning but doesn’t say anything.

“Xiongzhang, is he…really…?”

Lan Xichen thinks his heart might be breaking. It’s been many years since he’s seen that look in his brother’s eyes. He walks up to him to place a hand on his shoulder. “Wangji, you know I would never lie to you about that. Especially that.”

With a sigh, he averts his gaze from Lan Wangji’s face which is almost too painful to look at. Instead, he turns to Wei Wuxian. “And you, Wei-gongzi?”

Wei Wuxian reports his year as well and Lan Xichen inclines his head in acknowledgement. Earlier, Wei Wuxian had mentioned Jin Ling’s month-old celebration so he had an idea already. It makes sense, too. If it were any later than that, Lan Xichen expects Wei Wuxian would be…harder to communicate with. He sighs again.

“Well, Wei-gongzi. I can tell you that your nephew is now the sect leader of Lanling Jin. No one is looking to incarcerate you anymore and even if Gusu Lan Sect had such an agenda, we would not seek to harm you. Please, give us a chance to convince you?”

“That much is true, I guess. All right then. Convince me,” Wei Wuxian says. Lan Qiren twitches at his flippant tone.

Lan Xichen wastes no time. “First, please consider this: when it comes to the Yiling Laozu, what claim might Gusu Lan make? Wouldn’t you fall under Yunmeng’s jurisdiction instead? Furthermore, the abode behind you in which you woke up is called the Jingshi. It is Wangji’s personal dwelling. There is no reason to hold prisoners here...”

“Ah!” Lan Jingyi interrupts out of the blue. Lan Qiren is about to scold him when they see Lan Jingyi begin digging around in a qiankun pouch. Yet when they see the object he produces, they are thunderstruck. Even Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren had overlooked perhaps the most direct and persuasive detail. “Wei-qianbei, look here!”

Without further ado, Lan Jingyi unceremoniously shoves his little mirror in Wei Wuxian’s face. All eyes are on him when Wei Wuxian’s catches sight of himself in the reflective surface. They watch as his mouth falls open. He grabs the sparsely decorated oval and stares into it.

“I…”

It’s not his face.

All of a sudden, he has no trouble believing Lan Xichen anymore. Something clicks in his mind, like a final puzzle piece snapping into place. With this, it makes sense.

“Wei-qianbei,” Lan Sizhui says quietly. “I really am A-Yuan.”

“A-Yuan…” Wei Wuxian repeats numbly. It doesn’t sound as far-fetched now. Looking closely, he sees the resemblance. “Where is everyone else then?”

This time, Lan Sizhui hesitates. “Uncle Ning is off on some travels right now.”

Wei Wuxian waits but nothing else is forthcoming. What about Wen Qing, he wants to ask? Fourth Uncle? Granny? All the rest? But he thinks he knows the answer. A-Yuan’s silence is telling in and of itself. If A-Yuan is here, alone…if he’s changed his name to Lan, burying away that connection…

For some reason, A-Yuan had been spared but there’s no doubt that the cozy little group that was beginning to feel like family is long gone. The thought makes him a little light-headed…or perhaps the blood loss is finally getting to him. The fight-or-flight urgency from earlier is fading, leaving him drained. It’s not like he never contemplated how it would all end. In fact, he knew it was not likely to end well.

Live each day as it comes, right?

But he’d gotten comfortable with the makeshift life they’d put together. He’d gotten used to the welcoming path of lanterns lighting up his way home.

“So, I failed after all.” His eyes feel a little dry. “Is that how I died as well?”

“Wei-qianbei!”

Someone catches him as he begins to tilt sideways but it’s not either of the younger Lan disciples.

“Wei Ying.”

Leaning somewhat awkwardly with half his weight against Lan Wangji’s side, he struggles to look up at that normally expressionless face. His vision is getting a little muddled. Is that why Lan Zhan looks so distraught? He’s never seen that emotion on him before.

“Are you really Wei Ying?” There’s a tremble in that deep baritone. Is he starting to hear things as well?

“Who else?” He blows into Lan Wangji’s ear for good measure, a little disappointed when he barely gets a reaction. Instead, a warmth is flooding into him. Lan Wangji’s spiritual energy. It feels nice.

“Wei Ying. Wei Ying, I’m sorry.”

“Hm?” In contrast to the budding panic in Lan Wangji’s voice, Wei Wuxian’s speech is growing languid. “You don’t want Chenqing anymore? Not going to lock me up?”

“No! I—! I never wanted…”

It’s an odd day, Wei Wuxian thinks. He’s never fought with Lan Zhan so seriously before, nor did he ever hear him stutter so much in one sitting. And he even got to see emotions other than disdain and anger on Lan Zhan’s face. Neat!

He wants to tell him this but he can barely tell up from down now. His shoulder burns.

“Lan…”

… … …

When Wei Wuxian finally slumps, completely unconscious, in Lan Wangji’s hold, Lan Xichen thinks his brother might really go insane. Of course, his face is still relatively stoic but, for once, his lack of composure is evident. 

“Wei Ying!”

“Wei-qianbei!”

Lan Xichen meets his brother’s eyes when Lan Wangji looks up wildly. He reads in them what is no doubt a plea for help and Lan Xichen is reminded of a small child kneeling in the snow, helpless and confused. Meanwhile, the blue glow of spiritual energy is still flowing non-stop.

“Wuxian will be fine,” Lan Xichen reassures, injecting extra calm into his voice. “Shufu will send a doctor very soon so how about we bring Wuxian inside first?”

Lan Wangji nods like the words have grounded him. He gathers Wei Wuxian carefully in his arms and lifts him easily, walking quickly but steadily back inside. Lan Xichen follows but pauses at the door to instruct the juniors to leave.

“Go and take care of your night hunt arrangement. It’s better to pass on the opportunity this time — you will not be able to focus, I’m sure.”

Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi only leave reluctantly upon the promise that they can visit again later.

When Lan Xichen steps into the Jingshi…he is rather speechless. Chairs are overturned, scrolls are strewn across the floor where they tumbled out of their collapsed shelf and a tea set is shattered beyond repair. It’s a good thing Lan Qiren left earlier, unnoticed by all except Lan Xichen.

He approaches the bed — in one piece, thankfully — where Lan Wangji has settled Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji shifts to give him some space but does not let go of Wei Wuxian’s hand.

“It’s not your fault, Wangji.”

He lays a hand on Lan Wangji’s back but receives no reply. There’s not much he can do to help Lan Wangji right now, he knows. Rather, the way to help Lan Wangji would be to help Wei Wuxian and that’s what Lan Xichen sets about doing. Though…he wishes Lan Wangji would move away just a little more, despite sympathizing greatly with him. It’s just difficult to get things done when he must navigate around a very on-edge Lan Wangji.

The doctor arrives just as Lan Xichen finishes cleaning and dressing Wei Wuxian’s wound all while Lan Wangji continues to offer his never-ending supply of spiritual energy. As expected, the wound is deep but did not hit anything critical. It will heal without problem as long as Wei Wuxian doesn’t aggravate it further and gets plenty of rest. It’s very welcome news and Lan Xichen sends a prayer of relief up for both of his worry-inducing brothers.

As for the amnesia…

The doctor isn’t able to discern the source beyond that it seems to be a side effect of a minor poison. Possibly the couple had come across something in their latest night hunt. However, the most important part is that it’s not permanent – in fact, given the couple’s level of cultivation, it would wear off sooner rather than later. It’s yet another thing Lan Xichen is grateful for. He accompanies the doctor to the door and receives some final advice and a prescription for Wei Wuxian’s treatment.

Returning to Wei Wuxian’s bedside, Lan Xichen asks, “Did you hear all that, Wangji?”

“Mn. Wangji heard.”

“Good.”

They sit in silence and a minute or two passes.

“Xiongzhang.”

“Hm?”

“Is Wei Ying really my cultivation partner?”

Lan Xichen offers him a small smile. “Yes. You two are married with the full ceremonial rites and Wuxian’s name has been written into our family record.” *

Lan Wangji’s mouth opens and closes several times and his fist — the one that isn’t holding onto to Wei Wuxian like a lifeline — clenches tightly in his lap. Somehow, Lan Xichen knows exactly what he wants to ask next and decides to save him the trouble.

“It was a completely mutual decision. Do you really believe Wuxian would go this far if he did not want to? You are very happy together.”

He watches incredulity and elation battle on Lan Wangji’s face with an amused yet bittersweet feeling. Without further prompting, he begins to recount what he knows about their journey, starting with Wei Wuxian’s return several years ago. When he gets to the present, however, his words turn brief. Even the eloquent Zewu-Jun finds it a little difficult to find the right words to describe the daily antics of Hanguang-Jun and his husband. And…he pointedly does not explain the red marks they saw on Wei Wuxian’s exposed skin while treating his wound.

When he finishes, the room falls back into silence.

He knows what Lan Wangji must be feeling, even if he can’t fully understand it himself. To Lan Wangji, he’d only just suffered the loss, and now happiness has returned in the blink of an eye. Suddenly, his fruitless enduring is over. The storm has passed and the rainbow is within reach, more beautiful than he could have imagined. Thinking back to those thirteen years, Lan Xichen is a little wistful. If only it could have happened this way back then. But, alas, that is a nonsensical wish.

“Wangji, ah.” Lan Xichen stands. “Your memories will return soon but, for now, just know that I am happy for you. What’s right and what’s wrong…who can tell? Even now, I am still looking for an answer. But perhaps it’s not so important. Just hold on to what’s in front of you.”

At the door, he pauses again.

“Take care of him, Wangji.”

“I will. Thank you, xiongzhang.”

... ... ...

(sketched by me)

Chapter Text

Lan Wangji slowly runs a hand through Wei Wuxian’s dark hair. It’s smooth and silky, the healthy shine alluding to years of care. How very different from the neglected strands, tangled and matted with blood, that Lan Wangji last remembers.

Warm sunlight spills through the windows to illuminate the beautiful sight that he still finds hard to believe. Yet here he is, resting on his own lap.

After his brother left, he had carefully moved Wei Wuxian, movements cautious like a child stealing a fresh chrysanthemum cake from the stovetop. He let his arms circle around Wei Wuxian’s waist, trapping that solid, warm existence in his arms. It feels like he’s taking something that’s not his but he’s perfectly willing to be that criminal.

A good hour or two passes like this. It may as well be days, months or entire seasons for all Lan Wangji notices. The bed where they lie cradled together is like a little island of serenity, untouched by the chaos surrounding it. He hadn’t bothered to clean up the mess left behind by his fight with Wei Wuxian, letting the broken and displaced items remain where they fell, a reflection of his own heart.

Wei Wuxian’s face is peaceful as he slumbers. His ruined, red inner robe has been removed, changed into a more standard white garment. Lan Wangji has rarely seen him wear white and it imparts a different kind of beauty, something softer than his usual bright, fiery presence. Lan Wangji likes it. It’s as though nothing in the world could disturb him and that’s the way it should be, Lan Wangji thinks. He wants to imprint this Wei Ying in his mind forever and let it be the cool, clean spring that washes away the bloodstained, empty-eyed image of desolation that haunts his nightmares.

The only thing marring his paradise is the white bandage peeking out at Wei Wuxian’s collar bone. It’s a stark reminder of the horror he felt – that lingers still – when he realized whose flesh it was that he’d torn. He had felt the stirring of wrongness even when he didn’t yet know the terrible act he was committing. It’s as if even Bichen itself was rejecting the action.

He knows he did not do it purposefully and he even knows that Wei Wuxian will not hold it against him…but he would rather endure pain a thousandfold stronger than Wei Wuxian felt than let Wei Wuxian shed blood under his own sword.

“I knew a day would come when we’d raise our swords against each other like this!”

His grip tightens minutely against Wei Wuxian’s waist but immediately jerks back when he feels him shift under his touch. Heartbeat accelerating, he swiftly but steadily places Wei Wuxian back down on the bed and retreats to a chair at the bedside.

Like waking from a beautiful dream, the stolen time runs out. Wei Wuxian’s eyes flutter and open.      

Without realizing, Lan Wangji holds his breath as Wei Wuxian blinks. His gaze drifts slowly and finally, after an excruciating second, lands on the only other occupant of the room.

“Lan Zhan?”

“Mn.”

Wei Wuxian takes a moment to gather his bearings before asking, “Is this still your room?”

Lan Wangji does not hear any hostility in his voice. “Mn.”

“Oh.”

Steeling himself, Lan Wangji edges closer and offers his help. To his immense pleasure, Wei Wuxian allows it, borrowing Lan Wangji’s strength to prop himself up against a couple of pillows. It’s a very different scene than this morning when the two of them first woke together in the Jingshi.

“Here. Drink the medicine first.” Lan Wangji reaches for a bowl waiting on the table, kept warm by a little spiritual energy. It was brought by a young disciple a bit earlier.

“Oh. All right.” Wei Wuxian reaches out when the bowl is within reach but Lan Wangji swerves around his hand, taking up the spoon himself. When it becomes evident what Lan Wangji is trying to do, Wei Wuxian’s voice takes on an incredulous lilt. “You don’t need to—! It’s not my dominant arm that’s injured.”

But Lan Wangji pretends not to hear him, stoically raising a spoonful of liquid to Wei Wuxian’s lips and holds it there without saying a word. They sit there facing each other like a strange frozen image but if there’s one thing Lan Wangji is good at, it’s staying still.

“If this is because of my arm, you don’t need to worry about it. It’s just a small wound. Besides, I purposefully didn’t avoid Bichen in order to take your jade pendant so, if anything, it’s my own fault. You weren’t even moving. Lan Zhan?”

Lan Wangji only shakes his head.

Nearly a minute more passes by and, eventually, Wei Wuxian has no choice but to relent with a roll of his eyes.

“All right, all right. You win.”

And so, spoon by little spoon, the medicine makes it down Wei Wuxian’s throat. When the bowl is empty, Wei Wuxian leans back with a huff of laughter.

“What a day!” He turns to Lan Wangji who has to force himself not to get lost in that smile. “Hanguang-Jun taking such good care of the Yiling Laozu…you’d have to see it to believe it! Say, you’re not still feeling guilty are you—?”

His voice suddenly falls away and Lan Wangji catches a brief furrowing of brow. Suddenly, Lan Wangji’s nerves are on edge again. A peculiar tension rises in the air and somehow Lan Wangji knows exactly what Wei Wuxian has remembered that rendered him speechless.

“…Or is it because you think we’re…cultivation partners?” Wei Wuxian’s teasing grin slips. “Even if it’s true, you don’t…you don’t have to go this far.”

Lan Wangji looks down and swallows back the rising disappointment. “That’s not the reason.”

“Then…?”

“I care about you.”

It takes a lot to say the words out loud and he’s afraid of meeting Wei Wuxian’s eyes. Lan Xichen told him their marriage is a happy one but Lan Wangji’s unease grows, unfettered.

Had his brother assumed incorrectly? Had Wei Wuxian put up a happy front all these years, forcing himself to endure Lan Wangji’s selfishness? After all…

He hears a chuckle and his head snaps up, unprepared to meet Wei Wuxian’s wide, expressive eyes. He’s not sure what his own face looks like in this moment but apparently Wei Wuxian reads something from it, jerking forward to grab his arm, though he quickly lets go as if afraid of offending him.  

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh at you. I just…never thought you’d ever say such a thing to me.”

He’s relieved. Relieved that Wei Wuxian is not disgusted, that he’s still willing to reach out to him. But another wave of hurt crashes down in its stead. How much wrong did he commit that Wei Ying didn’t think him capable of caring for him, let alone…loving him? The weight of his failure is suffocating.

I love you, he wants to say. That’s why I would’ve married you, the only one it could ever be. I want to give you a home, to be your family, to protect you and stay by you. I so much more than ‘care’ for you.

What comes out instead is a wooden, “We are cultivation partners, recognized by our families.”

“But you said…”

Wei Wuxian obviously doesn’t understand and Lan Wangji only has himself to blame. Fists clenched, he opens his mouth only to close it again. He wants to reach out and pull Wei Wuxian back into his arms. They’re separated by only a small distance but it feels like an endless void to him.

In the silence, Wei Wuxian begins mumbling under his breath. “So it’s really true? I guess you wouldn’t lie about that and even Zewu-Jun and the Old Man Lan said so…but why? You don’t… And I died, right? Your uncle would let you marry someone who took another’s life just to come back?”

“You did not possess anyone. You were summoned back,” Lan Wangji interrupts through gritted teeth.

Wei Wuxian blinks. “Ah. That makes a bit more sense.” He glances at Lan Wangji. “You retained more of your memories than me, right? Then do you know why we…? However much I think about it, I can’t think of a reason.

“Hey, did we have a wedding? Was Jiang Cheng there? Ha, I shudder to think of his face. What about my shijie? Oh wait, if you knew then you would’ve recognized me, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t have tried taking Chenqing…ah!”       

Getting more animated in his rambling, Wei Wuxian inevitably pulls on his wound and he cuts himself off with a wince. Immediately, a hand lands on his uninjured shoulder to press him back against the pillows.

“Refrain from moving too much.”

Lan Wangji’s voice comes out hoarse. His eyes are prickling and there’s a lump in his throat. Listening to Wei Wuxian’s jovial chattering, he is acutely aware that this Wei Wuxian is within reach. This Wei Wuxian — his brave, kind and good Wei Ying — has not been forced to stand against the world, has not yet fallen into the abyss where he cannot find him.

This Wei Ying does not know the things he said to him in that cave after that bloodbath. But this Wei Ying also did not tell him to get lost. This Wei Ying is alive.  

He doesn’t realize he still hasn’t removed his hand until Wei Wuxian speaks up again.

“Um, Lan Zhan? You can let go now.”

His lips press together. He…doesn’t want to.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Wei Wuxian asks. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Just like that, somewhere in his heart, a string snaps.  

“But you did,” he says quietly.

“What?”

“You left.” Lan Wangji’s grip tightens. “You left nothing behind. You want to know why I wanted Chenqing?”

He takes a breath.

“I did not understand why it was here. It was in Jiang Wanyin’s possession. But I did not care. I only saw that a stranger was trying to take it away and I…all I wanted was to keep it for myself. I thought…maybe if I had Chenqing, you would answer my Inquiry.” The words come faster and faster. “Maybe if I had it, you might come visit me, if only to yell at me, if only to be angry at me. I wouldn’t have minded. As long as you were willing to see me.

“Do you understand, Wei Ying?”

He’s only able to hold Wei Wuxian’s stunned gaze for a second. He looks down at his lap. His own heartbeat is thundering in his ears. It’s more than he’s ever spoken in one go, all thoughts of propriety tossed to the back of his mind.

His heart sinks lower with each passing moment of silence.

A hand brushes against his cheek and he startles. Fingers gently wipe away something wet from beneath his eyes. A weight drops onto his chest and the top of Wei Wuxian’s head fills his vision. His breath catches.

Is this…acceptance? He doesn’t dare move. Wei Wuxian shifts and he can feel his warmth against him, hair tickling his neck. He wants very badly to wrap his arms around him but it would not be proper. Perhaps Wei Ying is only taking pity on him and yet…

“It must’ve been hard for you. I’m sorry. I’m here now.”

…And yet he wants to be selfish for once. He pulls him close.

“Wei Ying. I never hated you. I only wanted to protect you. I’m sorry.”

He feels Wei Ying still in his embrace. After an eternity, he hears a muffled reply.

“Mn.”

… … …

Much later, after night has fallen, Lan Wangji thickens his skin and does not reject Wei Wuxian’s sleepy offer to share the bed. By the time he bathes, changes into nightwear and, finally, carefully lowers himself next to him, Wei Wuxian is already half asleep.

“By the way,” his Wei Ying mumbles. “Isn’t it weird for you to see a different face? I think mine is better.”

Lan Wangji is legitimately surprised. Of course, there’s no way to ignore it but he never once considered it strange or mismatched. Once he learned it was Wei Ying in that body, he has seen no one else. Wei Ying’s soul shines through so brightly that anyone who knew him would be able to clearly tell, right?

“It’s you.” It’s always been you.

He presses a reverent kiss onto Wei Ying’s forehead and hides a smile against his skin.

“See you tomorrow, Wei Ying.

… … …

extra

… … …

LQR, visiting the next morning: Wangji!! Why haven’t you cleaned up this mess??

LWJ: … (didn’t want to unstick himself from WWX)

WWX: *pretending to be asleep*

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian wakes up gradually, feeling sunlight against his eyelids. Out of habit, he reaches out blindly to grope at the spot beside him. It’s empty. However, when he tries flipping over, he feels a hand press down gently on his chest.

“Careful.”

That familiar low timbre never fails to immediately brighten his day. With new motivation, he opens his eyes and blinks against the light to see Lan Wangji sitting at the edge of the bed, looking down at him.

“Lan Zhan,” he yawns.

“Mn.”

“What time is it?” he asks off-handedly but he’s surprised when he hears the answer. That late already? It’s late even by his standards. Why didn’t Lan Wangji wake him up?

Following that little thread of bemusement, he realizes that Lan Wangji’s expression is a little off. That golden amber gaze drifts sideways under Wei Wuxian’s scrutiny but he catches that hint of anticipation and worry before it’s hidden away.

“Lan Zhan?”

“Mn.” Lan Wangji is quick to reply but still doesn’t move. He doesn’t lean over for their morning hug, doesn’t offer a morning kiss, doesn’t tell him what’s for breakfast, doesn’t begin trying to dress him…

Hmph.

Wei Wuxian frowns.

…Ah!

Without warning, he launches himself forward, ignoring his shoulder’s protest, and burrows himself into Lan Wangji’s arms.

“Wei Ying! Be careful of—!”

“Did you miss me, Lan Er-gege?”

When he hears Lan Wangji’s relieved exhale, he knows he guessed correctly. His adorable Lan Zhan must’ve woken up with his memories back and sat there like a statue to wait for him, unsure of whether Wei Wuxian had recovered as well. Silly! He fails to hold back a chuckle at the image and receives a light pinch at his waist in retaliation.

“Aiya, Lan Zhan, are you dumb?” He tilts his head back to land a smooch on Lan Wangji’s chin. “You could’ve just asked! What’s the worse that could’ve happened? Afraid to get rejected by the Yiling Laozu?” He snickers again.

Lan Wangji huffs, indignant, in his ear and shuts him up with a kiss. It’s meant to be a light peck but soon gets a little out of hand. A swipe at his lips, a nip, a tug. As soon as Wei Wuxian lets his mouth fall open, Lan Wangji surges forward and they fall back onto the bed. Wei Wuxian hooks an arm around Lan Wangji’s neck to pull him closer even as his husband cushions his shoulder from pressure. A moan escapes him as their lips find each other again and again. Lan Wangji is a fierce force and Wei Wuxian is more than happy to let him have his way, offering himself up freely.

But they’re cut short when Wei Wuxian reluctantly taps on Lan Wangji’s chest to stop. Lan Wangji obeys immediately, a little frantic.

“Did your wound…?” he asks, hands already tugging at his collar in an attempt to check.

Wei Wuxian bats him away and shakes his head. “Just out of breath,” he assures. “Er-gege is as impressive as always!”

Right on cue, he spots a red flush climb up his husband’s ears and he takes a moment to admire that perfect face. Those normally pale pink lips are rosy and glistening after their excitement and Wei Wuxian subconsciously runs his tongue over his own. Lan Wangji swallows visibly and glances away.

Wei Wuxian is about to tease him further but Lan Wangji appears to pull himself together, gathering Wei Wuxian into his arms again with his back against his chest. His composure would be more convincing if Wei Wuxian couldn’t feel a semi-solid lump against his hip but he lets him off the hook this time when he feels a feather-light brush of fingers over his still bandaged shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says before Lan Wangji can bring it up himself. He is intimately familiar with his husband’s tendency to collect guilt in his heart and he has no intention of letting that fester. There’s no way to completely stop Lan Wangji from wallowing for some time — he knows that — but he’s not going to let him trap himself. Not under his watch.

“You didn’t know and I didn’t know. You know I wouldn’t let myself get hurt so easily now so just blame it on that little bratty Wei Ying, okay?” He drops his head onto Lan Wangji’s shoulder. “Besides, your family’s medicines are really something. I still remember that first year I came back when Jin Ling, that rascal, poked a hole in my stomach. That healed in only four days and this little cut is not even half as bad! Hehe, although…now Hanguang-Jun also had the honour of thrusting his sword into me. Aren’t you happy?”

“It’s ‘our family’,” Lan Wangji corrects. “…And don’t say such nonsense.”

“Nonsense? Which part?”

“…”

Wei Wuxian’s laughter eventually dies out and he wipes an imaginary tear from his eye.

“By the way, you didn’t answer my question. Did Er-gege miss me?” Before Lan Wangji can answer, he starts mumbling to himself. “Ah, but it was only a few days so of course not. It’s not like we weren’t together all the time, anyway—”

“I did.”

“Hm?”

“I missed you.”

Wei Wuxian’s entire being floods with a sweet warmth. He turns sideways and buries his head in the crook of his husband’s neck, breathing in that faint scent of sandalwood. Heavens! That young Lan Wangji didn’t miss Wei Wuxian, having gotten him back miraculously…but this Lan Zhan certainly missed his Wei Ying if only for the few hours that he was awake before him.  

“Lan Zhan, ah. Why are you so good?”

“So are you.”

“It must’ve been hard for you,” Wei Wuxian says, echoing his younger self. Both of them still remember every detail that happened while their memories were lost and Wei Wuxian sighs. He got lucky and avoided reliving his nightmares but Lan Wangji most definitely did not. Till this day, Wei Wuxian cannot help regretting those thirteen years and those thirty-three scars and it’s as futile as wishing Lan Wangji really did receive his miracle much earlier. However, Wei Wuxian doesn’t apologize. He knows not to. “I’m here now.”

“Mn. As am I.”

There’s no use in lingering on unpleasant thoughts. Shaking his head, Wei Wuxian smiles instead. The smile grows teasing as a tickle grows in his mind. He raises himself off Lan Wangji slightly.

“Such a good Er-gege should get a reward, right?” He leans down. “Does Er-gege have anything in mind?”

To his disappointment, they don’t get any farther than another tame kiss. But, all the same, he’s supremely entertained by the hint of petulance in Lan Wangji’s voice.

“…Wait till your wound is fully healed.”

They don’t have the chance to do anything either way. A few seconds later, a knock sounds on the outer door.

“Hanguang-Jun? Wei-qianbei?” It’s Lan Sizhui’s voice.

Gently, Lan Wangji extracts himself from beneath Wei Wuxian and slips off the bed. Wei Wuxian hears them exchange a few words at the door and then Lan Wangji returns to the bedside with Lan Sizhui following him.

“Wei-qianbei,” Lan Sizhui says, evidently trying to keep calm with great effort. A relieved expression is spreading on his face all the same. “I… I’m so glad you and Hanguang-Jun have regained your memories! Although your shoulder…is it feeling any better?”

Wei Wuxian pulls Lan Sizhui closer and reaches up to pat his head. Lan Sizhui looks a little embarrassed.

“Wei-qianbei, I’m not a child anymore…”

“Aiya, Sizhui. Sorry to worry you kids these past few days but no need to worry anymore! You did a great job taking care of us! And my shoulder is fine.”

Lan Sizhui ducks his head, pleased. Then he remembers why he came to the Jingshi in the first place and snaps up straight. “Ah! I came to inform you and Hanguang-Jun that Sect Leader Jiang is here…again. Jin Ling…Sect Leader Jin is with him as well.”

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji glance at each other. Wei Wuxian shrugs.

“They certainly have good timing.”

… … …

 a couple days earlier

… … …

“Wei-qianbei!”

Wei Wuxian and Lan Sizhui look up from the rabbits, carrots in hand, as Lan Jingyi comes barrelling towards them.

It only took a day cooped up in the Jingshi for Wei Wuxian to start complaining and nagging to be let out. Even so, Lan Wangji refused to let him out of bed until today and only after several – too many, according to Wei Wuxian – assurances by a doctor. Further still, Lan Wangji did not let him out of sight, going as far as to take his hand to keep him from moving too exuberantly.

The first time Lan Wangji did such a thing in public, Wei Wuxian froze and stared down at their hands for an embarrassing amount of time. He remained docile for a good half a shichen* after that.

Now, noon is approaching and Lan Wangji has left to fetch their meal, leaving Lan Sizhui to ‘supervise’ Wei Wuxian. Luckily, Wei Wuxian has been perfectly happy to laze around in the little field of rabbits and chat with this grown-up A-Yuan.  

When Lan Jingyi reaches them, he bends over to catch his breath.

“Wei-qianbei—!” Whatever he was about to say gets caught in his throat as he hesitates. He glances at Lan Sizhui and Wei Wuxian vaguely suspects that some secret signal passed between them. Then, Lan Jingyi tries again. “Um, Wei-qianbei? Should we go back to the Jingshi now? You must be tired now.”

Bewildered, Wei Wuxian opens his mouth to reply when he catches something purple in his peripheral vision. Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui freeze.

It’s Jiang Cheng. Even from a distance, Wei Wuxian can easily read the aggression in his every step as he stalks up the path that leads towards the Jingshi’s direction, as Wei Wuxian has since learned. He can tell the exact moment Jiang Cheng catches sight of him by the way his foot stops in midair.

When he changes direction to head their way, Wei Wuxian feels an unbidden swell of trepidation rise in his chest. These past few days, of course he’s asked about his shidi and shijie — they’re his family after all. But after the silence he received, he immediately stopped asking.

His memories would return soon enough so there’s no need to remember now, right?  

Wei Wuxian has to admit that he’s scared. Already, Lan Sizhui is a constant reminder of Wen Qing and the Wen remnants’ fate. Already, he has to swallow down the bitter taste of failure, hiding it behind a smile. It’s a blessing that he can get lost in the wonder of Lan Wangji’s affection, waking from nightmares in his arms and letting him soothe away the aches with his gentle touch.

Jiang Cheng comes to a halt in front of him and neither of them say anything at first. Jiang Cheng looms over him in silence. Wei Wuxian doesn’t really know how to face this clearly older Jiang Cheng, nor what to expect, but he forces himself not to look away. He finds something that looks like relief mixed with a hint of confusion battling on Jiang Cheng’s face.

“You…”

Wei Wuxian slowly rises to his feet. When Jiang Cheng doesn’t continue, he scratches his nose sheepishly. “Um. Long time no see?”  

“You’re…okay?”

Wei Wuxian is accustomed to the temper and mouth that Jiang Cheng inherited from his mother but he’s never heard Jiang Cheng use this wooden and distant tone — at least, not with him. His heart sinks.

“I…”

He’s a little grateful when Lan Sizhui steps forward from beside him, greeting Jiang Cheng with a proper lift of his hands.

“Sect Leader Jiang, this wanbei* doesn’t know what Sect Leader Jiang might have heard, but we will be happy to clarify matters. For now, please allow Jingyi to escort you to the conference hall while wanbei accompanies Wei-qianbei back to rest.”

The furrow between Jiang Cheng’s brow deepens. “Rest? Why does he need to rest? Did something happen after all?”

With great timing, Lan Wangji chooses this moment to return, appearing at the foot of the path with a meal container at his side.

“Wei Ying,” he calls out and everyone turns. Wei Wuxian can somehow tell that Lan Wangji is surprised to see Jiang Cheng there. He is also surprised by the animosity he can read in the sudden clench of Lan Wangji’s fists.  

“Sect Leader Jiang.”

“Lan Er!”  

In a move that is decidedly rude, Lan Wangji proceeds to ignore their visitor, heading straight for Wei Wuxian instead. “Wei Ying, is everything all right? How is your injury…?”

“What injury?” Jiang Cheng, on the other hand, doesn’t seem very surprised by Lan Wangji’s attitude. “You know what everyone and their cousin is talking about? They’re saying that Hanguang-jun laid a hand on his cultivation partner. Now, I’d be happy to hear it from you.”

That’s enough to stop Lan Wangji’s footsteps. His back is facing Jiang Cheng but Wei Wuxian can see the way his lips press together.

“It’s true.”

The tension in the air rises with an incredible speed. Wei Wuxian doesn’t have time to contemplate the apparent fact that the entire world knows about his marriage before Jiang Cheng lurches forward to grab Lan Wangji by the collar. Wei Wuxian has no doubt that Lan Wangji can stand his ground with ease yet he lets Jiang Cheng pull him around to face him.   

“What the hell did you do to him, huh?! Is this your way of treating him well?!”

Wei Wuxian feels a bubble of warmth at Jiang Cheng’s belligerence on his behalf. Perhaps…

But this fleeting train of thought is replaced by concern as Zidian begins crackling on Jiang Cheng’s finger. As Lan Jingyi’s hand inches towards his sword hilt, Wei Wuxian lays his own hand over it to stop him. He also shakes his head discretely at Lan Sizhui on his other side who has grabbed his arm, probably getting ready to drag him out of harm’s way. It’s still odd to have kids barely younger than him, as he is now, treat him like this.  

“I was in the wrong. Wei Ying has every right to blame me.” Lan Wangji does not move to retaliate yet his eyes are frosty as he holds Jiang Cheng’s glare. “But what right do you have to do so?”

“Lan Wangji!”

The words only serve to fuel Wei Wuxian’s confusion but they clearly have some effect on Jiang Cheng. He drops Lan Wangji’s collar and shoves him backwards, hard.

Instinctively, Wei Wuxian reaches out to steady Lan Wangji but Jiang Cheng catches his wrist. Lan Wangji is finally spurred into action, immediately snatching it back and stepping in front of him, shielding him from Jiang Cheng’s view.

“Don’t touch him.”

The situation is on track to get out of hand; Wei Wuxian can tell. He’s never been the type to hide behind someone else either.

“Jiang Cheng.” He steps around Lan Wangji’s broad back, pushing down the arm that rises to stop him. “I don’t know what you’ve heard but it’s probably not what you think.”

… … …

At the gates of Cloud Recesses, Lan Xichen smiles pleasantly at the small crowd of Jiang Sect disciples gathered on the steps. They look at each other, at the Lan Sect Leader, and then back at each other.

“…Would you all like some tea?”

“…”

… … …

“So…” Wei Wuxian can practically see the thoughts tossing and turning in Jiang Cheng’s head. “You…don’t remember anything that happened after…?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t remember…you and him getting…?

“Yes.”

A beat of silence.

“Well. Then, there’s no reason to stay in Gusu. Come back to—”

“Sect Leader Jiang,” Lan Wangji interrupts. “Our memory loss is only temporary and does not negate Wei Wuxian’s place in the Lan family. He is my husband and thus I have every obligation to look after him. You have no need to concern yourself with this matter. Please excuse us.” He turns to Wei Wuxian. “Let us head back.”

When Wei Wuxian doesn’t move, Lan Wangji seems to decide in that moment to throw all propriety away. He hands Lan Sizhui the meal container and bends over, scooping Wei Wuxian off his feet in one fluid motion.

Wei Wuxian yelps once and his arms automatically wrap around Lan Wangji’s neck. He blinks. “I…can walk?”

Lan Wangji ignores him and strides away. It takes Jiang Cheng half a second to recover. He follows.

“Lan Wangji!”

... ... ...

That day, Lan disciples passing by the Jingshi could vaguely hear an angry voice yelling for a good shichen before finally quieting down.

Their uninvited guest has barely departed — stormed back out, really — when several crates are deposited at the front gates. They’re filled with what looks like all the known medicinal herbs that grow on Yunmeng soil.

… … …

end

… … …

Chapter Text

“Wei-qianbei!”

Wei Wuxian and Lan Sizhui look up from the rabbits, carrots in hand, as Lan Jingyi comes barrelling towards them. When he reaches them, he bends over to catch his breath.

“What’s got you so riled up? Is a lady chasing you?”

“Wei-qianbei, there’s no time to joke around!” Lan Jingyi pants. “Sect Leader Jiang is at the gates giving the stationed disciples trouble. You’re the best person to go and talk him down!”

This is indeed unexpected. Jiang Cheng? Why on earth would he come to Cloud Recesses and so undiplomatically at that? Wei Wuxian asks this out loud only to receive an exasperated hand motion in response.

“How should I know? I think he was demanding to see Hanguang-Jun but I didn’t hear anything else. Let’s hurry now! Otherwise, we won’t make it in time—!”

Wei Wuxian catches something purple in his peripheral vision. He coughs and points a finger.

“…Too late.”

Sure enough, a certain troublesome sect leader is striding up a nearby path – one that leads towards the Jingshi – and his pace is decidedly agitated. Wei Wuxian can tell exactly when Jiang Cheng notices him by the way he freezes mid-step. Some emotion crosses Jiang Cheng’s face and he pivots on his heel.

When Jiang Cheng comes to a halt in front of him, he doesn’t say anything at first, only looming over him in silence. There’s something that looks like relief mixed with a hint of confusion battling on his face. Wei Wuxian just stares right back, widening his own eyes in a way he knows Jiang Cheng finds annoying.

“You…”

“Me?”

“You’re…”

“I’m…?”

Jiang Cheng makes an aborted motion, like he wants to kick him but thinks better of it. In that split second, though, Lan Sizhui is already halfway to his feet ready to defend his Wei-qianbei. After all, Hanguang-Jun entrusted him to ‘supervise’ Wei-qianbei in his stead…much to Wei Wuxian’s amusement. Awkwardly, Lan Sizhui steps back and tries to melt into the background. But then, Jiang Cheng makes another motion as if to haul Wei Wuxian to his feet and Lan Sizhui springs forward again.

“Sect Leader Jiang!” Jiang Cheng turns to look at him and he offers up a polite smile. “Wei-qianbei is still in need of rest so please refrain from…any…roughness…”

At Jiang Cheng’s suddenly dangerous expression, he has the urge to hide behind Wei Wuxian — who has risen to his feet — just like Lan Jingyi is doing. Thankfully, Jiang Cheng quickly turns his attention to Wei Wuxian instead.

“In need of rest? Why? Did that person do something after all?”

“That person?”

“Who else! That Lan Er!”

Ah. Wei Wuxian is beginning to see the big picture now. Honestly, he’s a little touched by Jiang Cheng’s clear belligerence on his behalf but mostly he wants to laugh. He barely keeps it in. It’s a simple misunderstanding to correct, even though he’s not sure what exactly Jiang Cheng has heard, and he opens his mouth to do just that. But then he pauses.

Now, where would be the fun in that?  

Frowning, he says to Jiang Cheng, “Oh, you mean Lan Zhan? You know better than anyone how we don’t get along so why are you surprised? What did you think would happen if I suddenly appeared in his room?”

“…Huh?”

Wei Wuxian surreptitiously raises an eyebrow at Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi to keep them quiet and arranges his face in an expression of dawning realization. He raises a fist and hammers it down on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder.

“Wait, it was you, wasn’t it?!”

“What—?”

“Well, well, Jiang Cheng! You’ve gotten creative, hm? Dumping me in Hanguang-Jun’s bed, of all people…and now I ache all over! And just to make things worse, I’ve got these kids watching my every move so I can’t escape! I bet you were hoping for that to happen! And now you have the face to ask me about it?! This is your fault!”

Poor Lan Sizhui looks as though he’s debating whether there’s any truth to the ‘ache all over’ statement and Jingyi’s face is a little red. Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng looks a little like he’s been hit over the head.

“What the fuck are you talking about?! He…isn’t he still your husband?!” Is the situation even worse than he’d imagined?

Wei Wuxian stumbles backwards, shocked, and the two younger disciples put out their hands to steady him. “Husband? Who’s husband? Jiang Cheng, what kind of nonsense are you spitting out?”

“Wei-qianbei lost some of his memories,” Lan Jingyi chimes in with great timing, stunning Jiang Cheng into silence. Also with great timing, Lan Wangji chooses this moment to appear at the edge of the clearing.

“Wei Ying,” he calls.

Everyone turns and Wei Wuxian returns the greeting with a small wave. Next to him, Jiang Cheng seems almost happy to see Lan Wangji, a target he can yell at without reservation. 

“Lan Er!”

“Sect Leader Jiang.”

Wei Wuxian can tell Lan Wangji did not expect to see Jiang Cheng here but he calmly offers a perfectly proper greeting all the same. Then, he proceeds to ignore him, heading straight for Wei Wuxian and successfully reigniting Jiang Cheng’s fury. “Wei Ying, how is the wound…?”

“You have the courage to bring up his wound?! What wound?! What the hell did you do to him, huh?! Even erasing his memories! Is this your way of treating him well?!”

Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes, slightly impressed by his creativity. Before the situation can escalate, he skips forward.

“Ah! Lan Zhan! Can you believe what Jiang Cheng said to me? He said you’re my husband now? Did you know about this?”

When Lan Wangji catches his eye, he winks.

“…I know now.”

The corners of Wei Wuxian’s mouth twitch. Jiang Cheng is blindsided yet again.

“Wait, don’t tell me— You—? Both of you?” Incredulous, Jiang Cheng’s eyes dart between the two of them.

Wei Wuxian gives him a sincere nod. “You guessed right.”

Jiang Cheng blinks slowly. Then, he brightens as if having some sort of epiphany.

“Well, if that’s the case,” he clears his throat, “Wei Wuxian, you can leave with me now. There’s no reason to stay here and disrupt the Lan Sect’s peace.”

“Ah, Jiang Cheng…”

“Sect Leader Jiang.” Lan Wangji’s voice is suddenly frosty. “Since you know that he and I are married, I have every responsibility to look after him. There is no need for Sect Leader Jiang to trouble yourself over this matter.” He bends down to scoop up Wei Wuxian who lets out a small yelp. “I will take him back to the Jingshi now. Please do as you wish.” 

Before Jiang Cheng can react, Lan Wangji is already stalking away with his precious bundle cackling in his arms. To his credit, Jiang Cheng recovers quickly to follow after them.

“Lan Er, how dare you! Why should I trust you after you…!”

“…back……! If you……he………!”

“……!......!...!.........!...............!”

“Wow.” Watching them go, Lan Jingyi lets out a sigh when Jiang Cheng’s voice fades out of earshot. “As expected of Hanguang-Jun.”

Lan Sizhui smacks him.