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The summons had been powerful enough that both he and Lan Zhan had immediately rushed to the village. Lan Sizhui would not have sent the signal without desperate need, not when he was in the company of his friends, all skilled cultivators. Waking from deep sleep was something Wei Wuxian was still getting used to. He’d spent too long in uncomfortable inn beds or by the side of the road during his journey, interrupted by everything from drunken singing to insect bites.
The resentful energy swirling around the village was tinged with red and an unsettling green. Wei Wuxian stared at it for a long minute before nodding at Lan Zhan who rose up into the air, plucking his guqin. The energy rose up as if to suck him into its depth before a striking chord swirled the energy into a cyclone. Wei Wuxian could see flashes of robes through the shifting, spiralling mass and he skirted the area of destruction to see Lan Sizhui and the others crouched on the ground. Lan Zhan’s focus never wavered as he steered the energy until Wei Wuxian slipped between the younger disciples and the danger. Then they worked together, harmonising as ever, to suppress, to destroy.
The music’s notes were still lingering in echoes when the final piece of sickly light and dark vanished. Wei Wuxian’s ears seemed to pop as the tension in the air was released. He looked around warily and something was still wrong. Something was off.
Slowly he moved closer to Lan Sizhui, helped Jin Ling to his feet and ignored the grunt that could have been thanks or an invitation to go fuck himself. He was relieved to see that, other than scrapes and bruises that a night’s rest would heal, no one was seriously hurt. Lan Jingyi nodded at him, still panting, as he sheathed his sword. Everyone was accounted for.
Lan Zhan came to stand beside him and Wei Wuxian manfully resisted the urge to lean against him. It was cold out here, even dressed in his warmest robes. But he knew they couldn’t return to the warmth of the Jingshi without working out what was still sending unsettling signals to his brain.
“There’s something…” He turned to Lan Zhan. His Lan Zhan would know what was wrong. “Something’s still not right.”
Lan Zhan hummed under his breath and stretched out a hand, creating a sigil in the air almost too quickly for Wei Wuxian to see. Then he shook his head. “No more energy.”
Wei Wuxian trusted him - he really, really did, something which thrilled him on a recurring basis - and knew Lan Zhan was almost as good as him at detecting resentful energy these days. But Wei Wuxian also knew something was still not quite right. It niggled at him, a loose tooth or mismatched plate. He tapped at his nose, knowing it helped him think.
Beside him, Lan Zhan let out a soft sound Wei Wuxian knew as a laugh. Then Lan Zhan’s hands were in his hair, letting his forehead ribbon slither neatly into his palm.
“Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure what was going on. He often wasn’t sure but this... he should be able to predict his husband’s actions, surely.
Wei Wuxian let out another huff before taking Wei Wuxian’s hand and weaving the ribbon around his wrist. Wei Wuxian froze in place, letting Lan Zhan tie a neater knot than the one he usually managed for himself. As the ribbon wrapped snugly, Wei Wuxian seemed to feel the sense of wrongness vanish.
“I forgot my ribbon. Your ribbon. My your ribbon.” Wei Wuxian gave into the urge to lean against the warm, solid form of Lan Zhan.
“Mn.” Lan Zhan raised his eyes to watch the rest of the disciples finish tidying up, collecting unused talismans and scattered arrows. Wei Wuxian felt his heart turn over, warmth gather behind his eyes and he knew he was falling even more in love with Lan Zhan.