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Wei Wuxian was living the good life. He had a wonderful husband, a dutiful son, plenty of impressionable juniors to teach, and all of his basic needs and whimsy wants satisfied. He had everything (well, almost everything. But there are some things you just can’t get back) he could ever want and was safe, fed, and content.
“Wei Ying.” Wei Wuxian felt a large warm hand brush his bangs away and a pair of soft lips on his forehead. “Wei Ying, it is time to wake up.”
He whined and covered his head with blankets. “Lan Zhaann, how could you wake up your husband so early! After keeping me up so late into the night, you would think that you would let me sleep in more! Lan Zhaaan!!”
There was only a small huff of laughter from his husband before he felt strong arms underneath him, hauling him up from the warm comfort of their shared bed. He yelped, clinging to his husband’s robes as he was transported to the bathroom of the Jingshi. His feet gently touched the floor, and his under robes were slowly pulled off his shoulders. He heard the rustling of Lan Wangji neatly folding his robes and placing them aside. Wei Wuxian turned towards the tub, a heating talisman fluttering on the side of the wooden basin. He breathed in the warm steam and felt the tension lifting from his shoulders. As he stepped in the bathwater, his aching muscles started to relax.
He sighed comfortably. “Ahh, Lan Zhan! You treat your husband so well! How will I survive without you during tonight’s night hunt? I am but a weak cultivator and need a strong man like you to protect me! Woe!”
“Wei Ying is strong and competent,” Lan Wangji told his husband while lathering his hands with soap. “It is only for one day, and then we will reconvene in Baling the next morning to pick up the Ouyang heir and then make our way to Lanling for Sect Leader Jiang’s resignation as regent and the young Jin heir’s coronation. I will be right behind you once I finish the reports of the last night hunt.” Talented hands, trained through years of guqin practice, started massaging Wei Wuxian’s scalp. Wei Wuxian melted even more into the bath. His eyes fluttered shut and he drifted off to his husband’s low voice humming their song.
---
The juniors milled around the GusuLan gates, chattering with other disciples while waiting for their Senior Wei to arrive at the meet-up point. The last rays of sunlight filtered through the yellowing tree leaves, the sharp mountain breeze casting a slight chill that rippled through the disciples’ robes. It was a promise of autumn, of mooncakes and lanterns and festivals.
A loud voice cut through the chattering. “Look!” Lan Jingyi said. “It’s Senior Wei! SENIOR WEI!!! OVER HERE!!”
Even across the Cloud Recesses courtyard, they could hear Wei Wuxian’s boisterous laughter at Lan Jingyi’s outburst. His hair was slightly disheveled and his robes were slightly loose as he ran towards them. Behind him, Lan Wangji walked gracefully with the powerful air he always exuded. If you were Wei Wuxian or Lan Xichen, you would know that his face simply radiated smugness. As Wei Wuxian got closer, you could clearly see that his lips were bitten red, his cheeks still flushed.
“Haha! Sorry for being late! I got… distracted with something,” Wei Wuxian said. Lan Wangji’s ears bloomed the faintest red. The juniors knew what that ‘something’ was, but none were shameless enough to say it aloud.
(Well maybe Jingyi. But why question something that is already established as fact?)
Everyone started their last-minute check-ups, patting down their qiankun pouches and checking their swords, getting ready to take off into the evening sky. Wei Wuxian and his husband walked a little ways off, murmuring in low voices and exchanging soft pecks of ‘travel safe’ and ‘see you soon.’ As the band of cultivators took off on their swords, led by a black and red figure, one could see a white-robed figure standing by the gates, looking at the group as they traveled further and further away until they were nothing but a speck in the sky.
---
“Senior Wei! Are we there yet?” Lan Jingyi yelled over the wind rushing past his ears as the night hunt group soared through the sky.
“No, and I swear on my husband’s forehead ribbon if you ask one more time that I will dump you here in the middle of nowhere and leave you to make your way to either the night hunt spot or back to the Cloud Recesses!”
Below their feet, a sea of dense forests sprawled beneath them, with rocky mountains springing up from the treeline like islands dotted in a reef. There was a problem at a shrine deep in the woods. Reports stated an excessive amount of resentful energy surrounding the area, festering and making the woodland ghostly and unpredictable for the nearby villages and travelers.
Two incense sticks later, they saw the orange glow of torchlight and started their descent for landing. They landed in a clearing right in front of the shrine, overgrown with dry weeds and tall grasses. The air felt thick with resentful energy, seeping into the cultivators’ noses sticking on their robes.
A plain-looking man in simple robes rushed out to meet them. His skin was gaunt and sallow; even from a distance, the cultivators could see how skinny the man’s frame was and how dark his eyebags were.
“Cultivators! Are you all cultivators?” The man’s voice was raspy and dry but still expressed a great amount of relief when the group nodded. He cried out and fell to his knees. “I’m saved, I’m saved! Cultivators have come to save us!” He groveled on the grassy dirt for a good while, chest wracking with heaves and making the group feeling slightly uncomfortable. He shakily got back up on his feet and bowed again.
“I am the caretaker of this shrine. Few people ever pass through here, so I was scared that this small shrine’s problems wouldn’t reach any cultivator’s ears, let alone a large group from such a prominent clan! There is something in the woods that makes this part of the forest feel different -- more dangerous, even -- and I fear there is something sinister in the woods.” He paused.
“Again, I thank you for taking on this job. Please, let this humble and grateful servant help you settle in. You must have had a long journey all the way out here. You can rest and replenish your energy before going out into the forest.” Some of the younger and less experienced disciples were exhausted from the long flight; their faces looked like they were very eager to take up the stranger’s offer. The man-made a motion to reach for Wei Wuxian’s small satchel carrying his clothes and extra supplies, but Wei Wuxian stepped back and politely declined.
“We are merely doing our job, good sir. Also, night hunts are called that for a reason. It is best if we get to work straight away. Younger disciples, set up arrays and lure flags around the perimeter of this clearing. Also, set upwards around the shrine to protect the man and our extra supplies. A-Yuan, stay behind to supervise them. Older disciples follow me. We will go investigate the forest and try to find the source of all the extra resentful energy.” Wei Wuxian surveyed the clearing one last time before turning on his heel and beckoning the older disciples to follow him.
“Senior Wei,” Lan Jingyi jogged up to the demonic cultivator’s side. “Why didn’t you take up the man’s offer? The younger disciples especially could use the rest; they haven’t flown for that long before. Also, why did you leave Sizhui behind? He’s great at detecting resentful energy.”
Wei Wuxian just huffed. “Who do you think you’re talking to? Not the founder of the demonic cultivational path! Also, why do you think I left them at the clearing? The younger disciples like A-Yuan well enough and think him kind enough to turn his head away if they decide to take a small break.” He paused, staring straight ahead. “Also, I trust him to protect them should something happen at the campsite. I’m not quite sure why, but I get an uneasy feeling from this place.”
“Senior Wei,” one disciple asked slowly. “I think we all feel uncomfortable right now. There’s a lot of resentful energy surrounding us -- you can almost see it.”
Wei Wuxian barked at that. “You’re right, you’re right. Let’s keep going. Keep an eye out and have talismans at the ready.” The small group traversed through the forest undergrowth, dry grasses and fallen leaves crunching at their feet. Dappled moonlight lit the forest floor, providing them with just enough light to pick their way through. There were no cicadas chirping, only the occasional caw of a crow. The uneasy feeling settled deeper and deeper into Wei Wuxian’s stomach. Surely they should have found some sort of trace by now? He only hoped that he was not inadvertently harming (you’ve only brought harm to those around you, who are you kidding?) the juniors beside him.
Suddenly, there was shouting from behind the group, in the direction of the clearing. Then there was an explosion. Hot wind whipped through the trees and pelted the group’s faces. The disciples looked frantically towards each other and Wei Wuxian, waiting for instructions and clarification. Their fears were confirmed when, with a loud whistle, the GusuLan emblem lit up the night sky.
“Shit!” Wei Wuxian took off towards the direction of the clearing, with the juniors just a half step behind him. At the edge of the treeline, a small group of the juniors huddled in the bushes, shivering and silently sobbing. They jumped at the crushing of leaves but then cried in relief when they saw the older disciple group emerge.
“Senior Wei!” one cried. “Senior Wei, we were setting up the perimeter arrays like you asked. Things were going fine until there was this huge explosion of resentful energy from the shrine! Senior Wei, you have to help them!”
“Shh, calm down—deep breaths in, deep breaths out. Remember to keep a level head in uncertain circumstances. Help who?” but Wei Wuxian already had a sinking suspicion as to who. He looked at the shrine, which had black resentful energy pulsing and almost glowing, adding a constricting weight on everyone’s chest. Small green flames were licking the dried grass, slowly eating into the wood of the shrine.
“The team that went inside the shrine to draw wards and Sizhui-shixiong! They were in the shrine with the old man!”
Wei Wuxian’s heart dropped. Not A-Yuan. No, no, no, no. No, I can’t lose A-Yuan. He whipped around to the older disciples.
“Lan Jingyi, take charge! Get everyone to safety and set up protective barriers! It’s too dangerous for you all to go in!” He pulled out Chenqing, got up, and straightened out his robes.
“Senior Wei, that looks too dangerous!” A disciple cried. “Senior Wei, the fire! It will eat into the building supports and collapse!”
When Wei Wuxian spoke, he did not recognize the deep voice, laced thick with dangerous power. If you asked one of the disciples who were with him at that moment that night, they would swear that his eyes glowed an eerie blood red.
“Nobody needs to get hurt. Anyways, I’ve lived through worse. I will handle this.” Wei Wuxian strode towards the burning shrine, his back as imposing as the fearsome figure he had been a lifetime ago.
---
Wei Wuxian passed through the shrine’s burning doorway, one sleeve covering his mouth and nose, his eyes burning from the smoke of the fire. When his eyes stopped watering excessively, he saw slumped figures lying against the walls and pillars of the shrine. He checked each one for a pulse and dragged them out, laying them a safe distance away from the fires. He motioned for the disciples waiting in the forest to take them to safety and take care of them. He was pulling out the last junior disciple when there was a crash within the shrine. Wei Wuxian quickly deposited him outside and rushed back into the building to see that some of the ceiling beams had collapsed.
There was a cry of pain from underneath the rubble. Wei Wuxian inhaled.
“A-Yuan! A-Yuan, is that you? Are you okay? Your Xian-gege is coming!” He pushed through the dust and rubble towards the fallen structure.
He heard his son’s voice again, deeper in the beams, whimpering. “Senior Wei! Xian-gege! Help! I’m trapped!.” Choked sobs and harsh breathing followed. “Baba, it hurts!”
Wei Wuxian’s breath hitched again. “A-Yuan! Don’t move! Your baba is coming to you! Cover your mouth, try not to breathe in the dust and resentful energy!” He carefully picked his way through the wooden beams, trying to trace his son’s voice.
He only ducked on pure instinct, a sharp dagger slicing through the air where his head had been just a second earlier.
“Well, well, well,” a raspy voice came from behind him. “Your skills truly do match the hearsay if I do say so myself, Patriarch.” Wei Wuxian whipped around to see the shrine’s caretaker, wrapped in resentful energy and holding onto an assortment of knives and sharp objects in the curls of resentful energy. Each blade was dark and otherworldly, gleaming with a dangerous glint. The caretaker’s eyes glowed red and undeniable power thrummed around him. “If only I had been able to draw you into my domain earlier, nobody else would’ve had to get hurt.”
Wei Wuxian stood his ground. “Oh, you finicky bastard. I knew something was off about you.”
The man threw back his head and cackled. “Oh, of course! The Great Patriarch would be able to tell that I am not human!” His face morphed into something more grotesque, very sinister and not quite solid. “At least, not now. The human form is oh so fragile. I had to make something sturdier.”
Wei Wuxian scoffed. “Like what? An old man? Hate to break it to you, old men are about as fragile as a stick.”
The man smiled evilly. “No. A god.” His form continued to morph until Wei Wuxian was looking at a replica of his old body, broad and imposing. The form had blood running from his qiqiao, his hair matted with blood. Wei Wuxian assumed this is what he looked like just moments before his death. It was not a pretty sight. The god switched back into the almost formless yet still humanoid shape.
“God, huh?” Wei Wuxian asked cooly, but inside, his blood had frozen to ice. He needed backup from more experienced cultivators here. This was not an enemy he could face alone; the last time he faced off a god was at Dafan Mountain when there were plenty of powerful figures ready to attack the god from all sides. Not to mention his little band of juniors were either knocked out, incapacitated by helping, or his little A-Yuan, still stuck underneath the building, hiccuping. He couldn’t even call Wen Ning here -- he was too far away, not to mention that Wei Wuxian had rescinded all control from him. He was off traveling near Qinghe, the last time he had heard from him.
“Ah ah ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian thought. “Look at me. I’ve gotten myself into another situation.” He glanced up at the night sky where the GusuLan emblem still burned. They were close enough to Yunmeng… right? Would Jiang Cheng even want to help them? Was he bringing people to their deaths here?
Wei Wuxian racked his head, trying to buy time. He cleared his throat and spoke with more confidence than he felt. “I don’t think the god of this shrine would like his caretaker trying to kill someone he invited over. Even if this god is your friend, it seems awfully rude to start throwing knives at one of the guests.”
“What do you mean? I am this shrine’s god. I am my own caretaker. I am my most devoted follower,” he gloated.
“Awfully pretentious of you,” Wei Wuxian drawled, before ducking again to dodge another volley of dangerous household objects. “What are you the god of, kitchen knives?” This angered the man even more and more knives went flying.
“I have learned from your works, and I am your best disciple!” The man screeched, rage flowing out of his body in thick waves. “I have mastered the control of resentful energy, just like you. But, Great Patriarch! Despair! For where you have failed, I have risen and conquered. With this power, I will rise to the highest ranks of godhood! I am much more powerful than you, and I will be the one to kill you. It will be glorious!” Another round of knives went soaring past Wei Wuxian’s face.
“Seals my point. I never wrote anything with the express intent of teaching anyone, and I most certainly would remember if I took on a disciple. Also, you won’t believe this, but I’ve heard --” he ducked “-- that phrase multiple times already. Won’t you lunatics --” duck again “-- ever learn? The stuff I made is not for careless playing.”
A deep chuckle. “Patriarch, this isn’t playing.” A thick wave of resentful energy sprang up in front of Wei Wuxian’s face, making him flinch away and cover his mouth, coughing. In that moment of distraction, Wei Wuxian found himself flung back against the wall, and he felt some of his ribs crack. In the next second, his robes were pinned by an assortment of knives. The god sauntered up to him, every pore of his being radiating smugness and sadism.
“Look at this weak man,” he gravelly whispered in Wei Wuxian’s ear. “Is this what the Yiling Patriarch has been reduced to? A skinny barely-adult who can’t even stand his own ground? Look how helpless he looks, pinned by -- oh, what was it you said? -- mere kitchen knives?” The man dragged out one of the knives and scraped it against Wei Wuxian’s cheek, drawing a bit of blood. Wei Wuxian felt his body slump and start to go numb.
“These knives are coated in highly concentrated levels of resentful energy; it is like poison to a human. It is so concentrated that even living through the Burial Mounds doesn’t hold a candle to this knife’s potency of resentful energy.” He stepped back, admiring the small beads of blood that ran down Wei Wuxian’s face. “I am curious to see how you’ll fare against the poison, Patriarch. Maybe you’ll finally die properly, mm?”
From underneath the rubble, Lan Sizhui let out one wet sob at the god’s threats. The god’s head whipped around to the sound, and he smirked.
“Oh Great Patriarch, I was not aware you had a son,” he crooned. He made a move towards the fallen beams but felt himself stop.
Wei Wuxian felt his eyes burn with anger and strain from using the resentful energy. “Don’t. Touch. A-Yuan,” he gritted out. Coils of the blackened energy wrapped around the god’s limbs, restricting his movements. The god turned around with a surprised look on his face before a grin split his face and he started laughing again.
“Amazing! Simply amazing!” he cried. “The Patriarch shows his great skills against me! Oh, I feel so honored!” He paused, staring down at Wei Wuxian. “But you are weak. Your cultivation is weak and your body is weak. Every generation, it is natural for cultivational prowess to grow. Every generation weeds out the old ones and brings in the new. I do think it’s about time that happened, no? You have already failed by dying, by not taking full advantage of the Yin Tiger Seal. If you had, imagine where you would be! You would be unstoppable! You would have the world in the palm of your hand and you could easily crush it like that.” He made a violent squeezing motion of his fist. The glint in his eyes showed his insanity.
As the god went on his long tirade, Wei Wuxian didn’t dare move, didn’t dare speak. He couldn’t and he wouldn’t. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lan Jingyi and two other older Lan disciples silently creeping towards the rubble of the back of the shrine, searching for A-Yuan. If he let the god notice them, then they would die. He couldn’t let that happen. His attention snapped back to what was right in front of him when the god leaned down right in front of his face.
“Oh Great Patriarch, you know that using resentful energy only speeds up the poison, right? Resentful energy just absolutely adores its kindred and will surge to wherever it is plentiful. I give you about half a shichen before you die from the poisoning, mad and frothing.” He chuckled before his face fell blank.
“Actually,” the god quietly considered. “Let’s do something different.” He pulled out one of the longer, darker knives and stabbed it in Wei Wuxian’s gut. Wei Wuxian choked on blood and took a raggedy breath in, his abdomen feeling just like the green flames licking the walls of the building. While he tried to catch his breath, the god looked around.
“Now you have around a quarter shichen before the poison consumes you! What fun! And that’s only if the fire doesn’t burn you alive. Now, where was your son?”
Wei Wuxian darted his eyes towards the area the Lan disciples had entered. He could only pray (not to this god. This god was a fucking nightmare.) that they had gotten A-Yuan out safely.
The god looked ticked. “I can’t sense him in the building. I know three others entered the shrine, but I thought them as foolish wannabe heroes, not rescuers. Where are they?” A pause.
“They wouldn’t be outside, just beyond the treeline to the east, would they, Patriarch?” the god leered. Wei Wuxian froze, breath catching. The god’s face came in way too close for comfort again, his red eyes staring deep into Wei Wuxian’s. “Patriarch, you would tell me, wouldn’t you? You would tell your best disciple, mm?”
The god pushed the dagger even deeper into Wei Wuxian’s stomach. Wei Wuxian’s breathing got even harsher, but he refused to make a single sound. Another knife entered Weu Wuxian’s body, this time just above his right hip. Wei Wuxian would have screamed if he could feel the pain, but he only felt an uncomfortable pressure where he knew the knife was. The god extracted his face, but Wei Wuxian still kept staring blankly forward. He felt the god’s presence leave the room, presumably to go outside. Wei Wuxian wanted to scream at the Lan disciples, Run! Run for your lives!
Wei Wuxian didn’t want to imagine the dead bodies of the Lan disciples scattered on the floor, limp where they had once been breathing and alive, chattering as they had just a scant few hours ago, but he did. He saw images of sixth shidi, the kite still clutched in his hand as his body was hauled away by the Wens, a gash through his throat. Some of the Lan disciples tonight were just as young as sixth shidi. He didn’t want them to die, no, no, no.
Please. I will give my life for them, anything, so they have a few more years.
Is this how Madame Yu and Uncle Jiang felt, defending their home to their last breath? Is this how the Wen Remnants felt as the might of the cultivational world descended upon the tiny abode they built from dead soil? Is this how shijie felt in her last moments, her back cut up and a sword impaling her throat? Wei Wuxian could only feel numbness and fleeting hope. Wei Wuxian could only question, have I done enough, are they safe, are they a l i v e?
He saw shijie’s lovely, kind smile, heard her tinkling laugh, her beckoning call of A-Xian! Lilac robes fluttered around him, and he smelled the blooming lotus fragrance, heard the gentle pattering of the waves against the pier, felt the cool lake breeze wash over him. He heard Wen Qing’s distinctive voice call out to him for being dumb, heard Granny’s crackly chuckle, Uncle Four’s boisterous laughter. He felt Uncle Jiang’s kind hand on his head, Madame Yu’s strict stare on his shoulders.
He saw the bright streaks of light and loud cracks of Madame Yu’s whip. He heard the clang of swords, the distinctive shouting of battle. Wei Wuxian was transported back into his memories of the Attack. His brain couldn’t quite make out which attack it was. Some part of him registered the sensory input as the Wens, pillaging Lotus Pier. Some part of him found himself atop the roof of the Nightless City, the outrage of the cultivational world simmering below him. Small wisps of almost forgotten memories, a multitude of colors surrounding him in the village he had built, making him feel backed in a corner, hopeless, cowed. Desperate. He wanted to cry out, he wanted to cry.
“Lan Zhan!” he had wanted to say. “Shijie! Lan Zhan! I’m sorry I’m so so so so sorry. I don’t want to die I don’t want to please please please save me. Lan Zhan…”
His visions flickered in and out, threatening to be consumed by the neverending black, already encroaching on the edges of his vision. He felt so tired. Maybe… maybe he could take a break for once. Wen Qing always told him that he didn’t take enough breaks.
“Heh.” he thought. “Wen Qing would be proud if she saw me now.”
“Would she?” that horrible little voice in his head seemed deafening. “You got her little brother imprisoned and her family killed, not to mention she had to sacrifice herself for your mistakes, and you just squandered her sacrifice by dying so soon after. You squandered so many people’s sacrifices, you greedy fool. Think of Madame Yu, Uncle Jiang, shijie, Wen Qing, Wen Ning, the Wen Remnants. Who else can you save? There is no one, and everyone you touch dies. Maybe you should just repent and die properly.”
Wei Wuxian took in a shuddering breath. Was that voice, right? Was he truly a curse to everyone he met? Was he crying? He couldn’t tell: the poison had numbed him so much that he couldn’t feel any part of his face anymore. He wasn’t sure where the shouting and crying he was hearing was coming from. All he knew was the darkness and the weight of his feelings, his sorrow, his guilt.
“I want to apologize to everyone one last time. Just once, please...,” Wei Wuxian thought before he succumbed to the darkness.
---
Eyes bleary, Wei Wuxian first registered the dark oak wood ceiling and the starchy clean sheets beneath him. There was a comfortable weight in his hand, and a warm palm stroking over his forehead. Sound slowly started to filter through his ears, the hushed murmurs of people around him and the lapping of water against a pier.
“Wei Ying?” A deep voice, soothing like honey, sounded out in concern. Wei Wuxian turned his head towards the source of the sound. His eyes were met with one of the most beautiful people he had ever seen. He could stare at him for hours, tracing the sharp cheekbones and beautiful eyebrows and deep eyes and --
“Wei Ying?” The man lifted Wei Wuxian’s hand -- oh so that’s who was holding my hand -- and squeezed gently. “Wei Ying, can you hear me?”
Wei Wuxian meant to say, “Yes, and you are very, very handsome, what is your name? Are you courting or married yet? If not, I would love to!” but all that came out of his mouth was a warbled and harsh sound, scratching his throat and making him cough. He felt strong hands carefully lift his body to sit upright on the bed and a bowl being pressed to his lips. He drank greedily, finishing the bowl in a few large gulps. He finished the water and heard the bowl being gently set down on a table with a clink!
“Wei Ying, are you alright?” The ethereal man asked again, his voice warm but laced with concern. Wei Wuxian still felt dazed and kept staring at the man before his brain caught up to him with a “you look quite rude right now, openly checking out this man so shamelessly.” Wei Wuxian shook his head and started to regain his surroundings. There was purple drapery lining the walls of the room with bookshelves lining the walls and a guqin sitting on the low table in the middle of the room. The room felt so familiar, and he couldn’t quite place --
Wei Wuxian suddenly sat upright. “This is my bedroom! My old bedroom at Lotus --”. He looked around and saw his husband sitting patiently next to him, still holding his hand gently.
“Lan Zhan? What are you doing here?” Wei Wuxian looked around again. “Why am I at Lotus Pier? Why do I have my old bedroom back? I thought it burned and that Jiang Cheng would never --”. He started hacking and coughing, pain erupting in his chest.
His husband shushed him and gently pushed him back down. “Wei Ying, rest. You have been asleep for a few days.” Wei Wuxian stared curiously up at his Lan Zhan.
“Why would I be asleep for so long? Why would I be in Lotus Pier if --” he cut off again, suddenly remembering the shrine, the god, and the poison. He grasped his husband’s arm, panic in his eyes. “Lan Zhan! The god! The shrine! The juniors! Are they all safe? Is the area contained? Is the god --”. His husband shushed him again and ran his hand over his head again.
“Wei Ying. Rest. The situation is contained. Jiang Wanyin arrived with a force of YunmengJiang disciples and helped contain the god. The juniors -- including Sizhui -- escaped with minor wounds and smoke inhalation, but they are well on their way to full recovery.” He paused. “You, however… Wei Ying…” His face was pained, a stressed line between his perfect eyebrows that Wei Wuxian wanted to smooth out with his thumb.
“Lan Zhan,” he trailed off. “Look at me, I’m fine, right?” He waved his arms up and down before a sharp pain in his stomach made him recoil and gasp. His husband was pressed up against him immediately, holding him carefully as if he could break.
“Wei Ying. Do not move. Your stitches are still healing. The poison is barely out of your system, we do not want to spread any possible remaining wisps.” He sounded more stressed than he ever had, his eyes panicking and hands trembling.
The door of the bedroom opened with a bang as a small team of medics entered, with Jiang Wanyin trailing just behind them. The healers all swarmed Wei Wuxian’s bed, setting up medical supplies for the check-up. One of the healers gently pushed Lan Wangji away from the bed to make more space.
“Hanguang-jun,” the doctor said sternly. “I thought I told you to call us as soon as Wei Wuxian showed signs of consciousness? Also, to make sure he didn’t move?” She raised an eyebrow. Lan Wangji stared back cooly. She snorted and turned around to work on Wei Wuxian’s injuries, firing off a rapid series of questions at the bedridden figure.
Lan Wangji stared at the bed and the people on and surrounding it until there was the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him. He slowly turned around to face Jiang Wanyin, who was standing with his arms crossed and a tick in his eyebrow. They stared at each other, having a silent argument with their eyes.
The healers left, and Wei Wuxian was given a clear view of the silent standoff. He started chuckling and abruptly stopped holding his stomach. Lan Wangji hurried to his side and took his hand again.
“Wei Ying, are you feeling better?”
“I’m fine, I’m fine! The doctors just say that I need a few more days of rest, and then I’ll be up and running again!” Lan Wangji’s eyes looked slightly doubtful, and Wei Wuxian sighed. “Aiyo, Lan Zhan! I swear! One little stab can’t hurt me too much! I’ve been stabbed many times now, and I’m still alive! I’m made of tough material.” That seemed to be the wrong thing to say since Lan Wangji’s eyes got even darker and stormier. Jiang Wanyin coughed and looked away awkwardly.
“Anyways,” Wei Wuxian carefully continued. “The past is in the past, right? Who wants to talk about that gory stuff? Has anything interesting happened while I was asleep?” His unconcealed attempts at trying to save the atmosphere in the room did not go unnoticed, but the two standing cultivators indulged him.
“Your --” his brother pointed towards Wei Wuxian’s husband. “Stupid, annoying husband, broke down my medical wing doors!” His face was steadily reddening, almost purple. “Those doors were solid oak! And then he yelled your name so loudly that the room shook and some doctors fell over! Ask your husband to control himself!”
“Aiyo, Jiang Cheng, he was just concerned!”
“You can be concerned AND courteous to the host’s buildings! The damage was completely unnecessary!” Jiang Wanyin turned on Lan Wangji only to see the Jade staring back at him with a cool fire in his eyes, unwilling to back down.
Lan Wangji dipped his head. “This one apologizes for the inconvenience. I will send the reparation money as soon as I return to Gusu.” He left Jiang Wanyin sputtering as he turned his attention to his Wei Ying.
“Wei Ying,” he said, staring into his husband’s eyes.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian replied to him, also looking deeply at his husband.
Jiang Wanyin threw his hands up in the air. “That’s it, I’m not sticking around you two lovebirds any longer. Go make out or something -- actually, don’t. Not under my roof, you don’t.” He pointed to Lan Wangji. “If Wei Wuxian’s stitches come out, I will find you at fault along with my idiot brother, so don’t try anything.” He gave a curt nod goodbye and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him while muttering a barely audible “I do not need to know what they do by themselves.”
There was a pause in the room, with only the muted sounds of a bustling sect beyond the doors and the gentle setting of Lotus Pier. Wei Wuxian burst out in laughter again.
“Lan Zhan! You both make each other so angry! It’s like watching a drama unfold between you two!” His husband just looked at him tenderly and swept away Wei Wuxian’s bangs to give a light peck on his forehead.
“Wei Ying. Rest.” Wei Wuxian did not rest and started cooing over his husband, pinching his husband’s soft cheeks and trying to assure him that he was perfectly fine, thank you very much.
“Please, love.” The invulnerable Hanguang-jun’s voice cracked.
Wei Wuxian looked at his husband’s pained face and stilled. “Husband, what’s wrong? I promise you, I feel okay, I truly do! It’s nothing that won’t heal in time.” He tenderly cupped Lan Wangji’s jaw and felt his husband snuggle in closer to his palm, as if he were afraid to be any further. “Dear?”
Lan Wangji took in a shuddering breath. “The doctors… the doctors said you might not make it. There was too much poison in your veins and it was so close to your heart...” He rested his forehead carefully on his husband’s chest. “I was so scared I was going to lose you again.” Wei Wuxian felt warm and wet spots on the front of his robes where his husband lay, but he didn’t dare say a word. He carded his hands through the silky straight strands of his husband’s hair, slightly oily from a lack of consistent washing while standing vigil by his husband’s bedside.
Lan Wangji continued. “The healers told me Jiang Wanyin had to use Zidian to shock you awake a few times to keep the resentful energy at bay, to make sure your heart didn’t…” He paused, breathing in deeply. “He carried you in yelling, blood all over his robes and in complete disarray. You kept muttering and crying and calling out to people from the resentful energy hallucinations and kept thrashing around. They had to use a sedative on you just to start the healing process.”
Wei Wuxian stared up at the ceiling as he continued to run his hands through his husband’s hair. Had he really been that close to death?
“I’m sorry, my love,” he said, softly, afraid to break the silence that came after Lan Wangji’s confession. “You know I would never leave you again.” He curled his arms around his husband’s head, hot tears running down his cheeks and falling on his husband’s hair.
Lan Wangji lifted his head and held both of Wei Wuxian’s hands. “I want to be where you are, always, to make sure you are safe. I do not want to imagine another life where I do not have you happy and safe and alive, one where I am not there to protect you to my last breaths. Wei Ying,” he bowed his head, his voice dripping with sincerity and a tinge of desperation, “Please let me protect you, let me take care of you.”
Wei Wuxian rose up to kiss Lan Wangji’s forehead. “Of course, love. I will do my best to be happy and safe and alive and will always stick by your side, xingan.”
Lotus Pier bustled with activities: errands being run, disciples being trained, discussions being held. But in a small bedroom in the old wing of the Lotus Pier complex, two lovers curled into each other, holding onto each other securely, finding comfort in each other’s silence and presence.