Chapter Text
-Thin mist and thick clouds shroud the long day in melancholy; perfume scatters from a golden beast-shaped censer.
A holiday once again, it is Double Ninth; through embroidered pillows and gauze veils, in the middle of the night, coolness begins to come through.
At the eastern fence, one raises one's cup after dusk; the fragrance of plum blossom fills one's robes.
Who would not say that this is overwhelming?
In the westerly wind that lifts the curtains, one is thinner than the yellow flowers.-
-Li Qingzhao-
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On the day of Chongyang the Cloud Recesses was abuzz with all the visiting Caiyi villagers, who climb the Gusu mountains every year with arms full of chrysanthemums and hearts full of hopes for a blessed tomorrow.
The only day of the year Cloud Recesses opened for masses of commoners, serving as a momentary resting stop for the youngsters who wished to climb even up the mountains and a holy temple ground for older people to walk around and in reverence at the minor heaven where their guardian sect resides at and descends from; having opened the gates for just one day.
Lan Wangji stood on the porch of Hanshi and watched as the disciples freely poured bowls after bowls of chrysanthemum tea for the tired hikers at temporary stands near the entrance. A group of village aunties crowded around Li Ruo and A-Xu of the kitchen staff, holding hands and chatting in excited but hushed voices, obviously friends from their maiden lives before they married into the Lans. A child was pointing at the pond at the other side of the premises, and the elderly lady who was next to him whispered something that must have meant something along the lines of "behave nicely and do not disrupt the quiet". The boy immediately calmed down and took careful, almost comically slow steps across the white pebbles, clutching at the grandma's hand. Lan Wangji felt a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He thought of Wen Popo and A-Yuan from back then.
A-Yuan, who would be lighting incense at Burial Mounds today with Wen Ning.
A nudge at his side, a wooden bowl of chrysanthemum tea in front of his face, and Lan Zhan was brought out of his reveries to see the soft smile on his husband's face.
"Lively, isn't it?" Wei Wuxian said, taking a gulp from his cup. "I've been seeing this for nearly twenty years now and I still can't believe my eyes. Oh look at those girls looking at ours like they want to be friends, they are so cute! Don't be shy! Our good Lan girls won't bite!"
"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji admonished gently but not without a hint of a smile in his voice.
Truly, the Lan children could do more with having "normal" friends or friends at all who are not from their own sect. The visiting disciples have gone back to their sects months ago and they were being as moody and restless as much as they could under the rules.
Lan Wangji finished his tea and turned back to glance at the Hanshi. It's been five months since it became Lan Jingyi's residence, and six months since its previous owner's passing away. He allowed himself a moment of nostalgia, and thought of how the Hanshi remained empty throughout his childhood, then made into a warm and welcoming space after Lan Xichen became the sect Leader. How his xiongzhang looked sitting at the desk, pouring tea for Uncle Qiren. Having pleasant discussions with Wangji in the evenings, where he did most of the talking and Wangji contributed with mn s. He thought of catching Xichen playing lullabies in Liebing for A-Yuan and later A-Yue when he came to collect his child after leaving them at their Bofu 's care once in a while when he had to do late night hunts.
Wei Wuxian followed Wangji's eyes and smiled, ever understanding, at Hanshi's open door. "He must be happy and waiting for us at the ocean, don't you think, Lan Zhan?"
Together they slid the doors closed, and the room disappeared from view.
It was even more so different from Jingshi now that its owner was the Jingyi, who had come a long way from being the most chaotic Lan to ever exist, but who was still Jingyi nonetheless.
...............
The walk back to Jingshi was quiet. The secluded gravel path and the low uphill climb was as familiar to them as the back of their hands. They did not let their minds linger too much on how the disciples looked at them with big and sad eyes as they deposited their bowls at the stand. They did not ask each other "Do you think you would miss this?"
Everything was already settled and Lan Wangji had his mind made up long ago, his Xiongzhang 's passing only being the final push. They had time to come to peace with the thought of leaving the dear abode that housed Lan Wangji silently for more than half his life, and Wei Wuxian for nearly twenty years. They had made thousands of memories there that were carved in their hearts one careful stroke after the other, never to forget. Moreover, it wasn't like they were leaving the Jingshi for just anyone to take. It would be A-Yuan's private residence, and they could always visit.
Still, a tear escaped his eye as they took the last warm bath they would at Jingshi, as his eyes roamed over the walls and furniture; now bare of all the big and small knick knacks they've collected over the years which were sent packed away to Liujiagang with A-Yuan yesterday. And if he saw Wei Wuxian subtly wiping the corner of his eye too, he chose to say nothing about it. He knew his husband would return the grace.
.............
The day after the Chongyang, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian left Cloud Recesses in the wake of hundreds of tearful disciples under the care of an equally teary-eyed Lan Jingyi.
***