Chapter Text
It’s a pleasant day in Yiling as Lan Qiren walks the streets in search of a vendor selling toys. He had brought his class of junior disciples to Yiling for a night hunt, but they handled it quickly. Now, it’s late enough in the day that they wouldn’t be able to return to the Cloud Recesses before curfew, so Lan Qiren has allowed them some personal time to explore Yiling. His own personal time, on the other hand, is being spent on finding something to bring home to his nephews.
A nearby stand selling simple wooden toys catches his eye, and he’s about to walk over when he hears a small voice call his name. “Uncle Lan?”
Lan Qiren isn’t startled enough to actually physically react – he’s too well-trained for that – but he is certainly more than a little surprised to hear someone calling him “Uncle” in the middle of Yiling, particularly because Lan Huan and Lan Zhan are currently at the Cloud Recesses, down with fevers and in the care of the infirmary.
It’s unquestionably a child’s voice, so he looks down and finds a familiar boy staring up at him with wide eyes. “Wei Ying?” he asks incredulously.
The boy breaks into a smile, and yes – Lan Qiren has only met Wei Ying once before, but this is undoubtedly the spawn of Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze. “Uncle Lan!” he repeats. “You're visiting here!”
“A-Ying,” Lan Qiren says, glancing around to see if Wei Ying’s parents are nearby. He’s already planning a lecture for them about leaving their son wandering the streets, unsupervised. “Where are your parents?”
Wei Ying’s smile dims. “Mama and Baba didn’t come back,” he says. “Mama said, ‘A-Ying, stay in the inn until dinner.’ But then –” he pauses, counting on his fingers before holding up seven of them – “seven dinners passed, and Mama and Baba didn’t come back.”
A feeling of dread fills Lan Qiren as he crouches down to be at eye level with the boy. “A-Ying,” he says slowly, praying that what he thinks has happened is nothing more than an erroneous guess. “Your parents haven’t returned in a week? They haven’t sent any messages to you?”
“No messages,” Wei Ying says, which makes the sinking feeling in Lan Qiren’s stomach worsen. “And then the inn man said ‘Wei Ying has to leave.’ But A-Ying had no place to go and my tummy hurts.”
And now that Lan Qiren can see Wei Ying’s face up close, it’s clear that the boy looks a little thinner than he did the last time Lan Qiren saw him a few months ago. He’s very obviously trying not to cry, but his whole body is trembling, and Lan Qiren is only human. He lifts Wei Ying in his arms and stands up. “Wei Ying,” he says seriously. “I will take you to Gusu with me.”
“But – but Mama and Baba,” Wei Ying says uncertainly. “They don’t know.”
Lan Qiren’s heart breaks. Cangse Sanren may have been a nuisance, but ultimately, she and Wei Changze were also his friends. That they may very well be dead feels impossible, but with a heavy heart, he acknowledges that there is simply no other explanation for them not contacting their beloved son for an entire week.
He thinks about the loss his nephews just recently suffered, the reason Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze had come to Cloud Recesses several months ago and made Lan Qiren aware of the existence of their son. Lan Huan realizes, to some extent, what it means that his mother is dead, but Lan Zhan, so close in age to Wei Ying, still doesn’t understand why the door of his mother’s house will never open again.
Lying is forbidden, but the memory of Lan Zhan resolutely kneeling in the courtyard of the Gentian House every month keeps Lan Qiren from telling Wei Ying his parents might be gone forever. “I will send messages to all the clans about where you are,” Lan Qiren says gently. “That way, they will know where to find you.”
Wei Ying seems to consider that for a few moments, before his smile returns and he nods happily. “Okay! Then I can come with Uncle Lan.” His grey eyes, exactly the same shade as Wei Changze’s, light up as a thought strikes him. “I will see Lan Zhan?”
Lan Qiren remembers Madam Lan’s secret funeral, a ceremony that only people who had known her in her life before becoming Madam Lan were permitted to attend. He remembers sending Lan Huan, Lan Zhan, and Wei Ying off to the back hill together so they wouldn’t have to sit through funeral rites they didn’t understand, remembers Wei Ying and Lan Zhan returning hand-in-hand, remembers Lan Zhan looking the most relaxed he had since his mother’s death. It seems that Wei Ying remembers that too.
He holds Wei Ying a little more tightly. “Yes,” he says. “You will get to see Lan Zhan, and Lan Huan as well.”
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying says happily. “And Huan-gege! I told Mama and Baba I miss them, and now I can see them again!”
Lan Qiren takes a moment to imagine Cangse Sanren’s reaction to her son actively wanting to go to the Cloud Recesses and is struck by a strong pang of grief at the idea that he might never see her or her husband again. “They will be happy to see you too. Will you help me pick out a toy for them?” he asks Wei Ying instead of lingering on that thought. He gestures to the stand he had spotted before. “They are close to your age, you must know what they might like better than I do.”
“A toy?” Wei Ying’s eyes widen in delight. “I have a toy!” He reaches inside his robe and pulls out a rattle drum. “Baba got this for me.”
“I see,” Lan Qiren says. “Lan Zhan is only a little older than you. Do you think he would like a rattle drum as well?”
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying says, beaming. He likes saying Lan Zhan’s name far more than anyone else’s, Lan Qiren notices. He supposes it makes sense, because they had gotten quite close during Wei Ying’s brief time in the Cloud Recesses. On the rare occasions that Lan Zhan talks, he too mentions Wei Ying more often than not. “Lan Zhan likes the rattle drum. He will share with me.”
“Very well,” Lan Qiren says. “If you want to share it, then we will get him something else.”
“Bunny!” Wei Ying says, pointing at a carved wooden rabbit, painted white, on the stand. “A bunny for Lan Zhan. And that one for Huan-gege,” he adds, pointing to a little brown rabbit next.
They’re fitting gifts, Lan Qiren decides, and that’s enough for him to buy them both without a second thought. He adds a third black bunny for Wei Ying to the lot while Wei Ying is distracted by a grass butterfly, reasoning that his nephews are only likely to play with these toys when Wei Ying is playing too.
When he and Wei Ying arrive at the inn where the Lan disciples are staying, Lan Qiren requests bathwater and a hot meal to be sent to his room. Before he goes upstairs to ensure that Wei Ying eats and gets bathed properly, he instructs his two most competent students to stay in Yiling for two more days and search the area for information about Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze. He wants to cover all the bases – on the slim chance that they’re alive but stuck in a situation where they’ve been unable to return to Wei Ying, the disciples will be able to help, and if it is as he fears, and they’re gone, then at the very least, solid proof will provide some closure.
With all the logistics out of the way, Lan Qiren focuses on getting Wei Ying cleaned and fed. As he eats, Wei Ying starts talking, and Lan Qiren gently reprimands him. “No speaking while eating, Wei Ying.”
“Why?” Wei Ying asks, his eyes round and filled with curiosity.
Lan Qiren isn’t used to children – or anyone, for that matter – questioning the rules, but it’s a fair question. He takes a moment to consider his answer. “It is impolite to speak with food in your mouth,” he finally says. “And it is more efficient to finish your entire meal, savor it, and then converse with your company.”
Wei Ying cocks his head to the side, like he’s deciding whether this is a reasonable explanation. He apparently deems it to be one, because a moment later, he nods enthusiastically and says, “Okay! A-Ying will wait to talk after eating.”
Once Wei Ying has finished eating and is placed in the bath, no longer restrained by rules about silence, he seems content to chatter away about anything that crosses his mind, far more talkative than the children Lan Qiren is used to. But, Lan Qiren supposes, if Wei Ying is to stay in the Cloud Recesses for an indeterminate amount of time, he should get used to it.
And as Lan Qiren watches Wei Ying curl up on the bed later, gently clutching the front of Lan Qiren’s robes and falling asleep with a smile on his face, he thinks that maybe he could.