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Wei Wuxian doesn’t think there is anyone who can have worse luck than him, alive or dead.
First, he wakes up in the body of a crazy cut-sleeve demonic cultivator, who had summoned him with a ritual meant for vengeful ghosts, so that he could take revenge on his family for him, or risk having his soul dissipate across the land.
Which, alright, fair. His family deserved it.
But then, of course the cultivators who had been dispatched to the Mo Manor had to be from the Gusu Lan Sect, and of course when shit hit the fan, he had to be the one to appear. Wei Wuxian had been fortunate to make his escape when he did, not that his steed had been cooperative in the slightest.
However, fate just really seems to hate him, whether in his previous life or now, as he’s come to realize. All he had wanted to do was find an easy prey on a night hunt to earn enough money so he can travel without worry for the next while, giving him ample time to figure out what to actually do after he’d been resurrected. Obviously, this means that the prey is being contested by the pretentious Jin Sect young master who also happens to be his shijie’s child, and if it hadn’t been for the two Lan Sect cultivators who had been by his side at the time, who knows what Wei Wuxian would have spouted next.
And then to top it off, it turns out that the creature taking all the souls on Dafan Mountain isn’t a ghoul or a beast after all, but a wild goddess, which is just fantastic. He had just wanted to summon a ghost, anything with enough resentful energy in the surroundings to suppress the being, and then Wen Ning had shown up.
What. The. Fuck.
Wei Wuxian puts down his flute tentatively after just barely sending Wen Ning away, and now he’s caught in between an awkward staring contest with Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji.
Really, couldn’t Mo Xuanyu have summoned someone else to avenge him?
A tense look passes between Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji, and Wei Wuxian really hates that he can’t read either of their faces right now. Under the overcast sky, the light washes everything in grey, accentuating their sharp features.
“Uncle Jiang, Mo-qianbei doesn’t have his body stolen, he’s just a little confused, that’s all,” one of the Lan juniors—Lan Sizhui?—says, holding his hands up placatingly.
Jiang Cheng has Zidian out, the purple whip cackling with electricity by his side. Wei Wuxian sends a silent prayer for the young man who had foolishly stuck his neck out on his behalf, hoping that his former shidi wouldn’t do something rash, like harm a child.
“Just because his body isn’t stolen doesn’t mean it isn’t possessed,” Jiang Cheng replies evenly, without any of the heat Wei Wuxian had expected.
Jiang Cheng turns to Lan Wangji. “It’s him?”
Lan Wangji nods.
Wei Wuxian looks between them in confusion, and with growing unease. Why are they looking at each other like that? Didn’t they hate each other? Can someone tell him what’s going on?
“Come back to Lotus Pier, Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng tells him with something like fond exasperation in his voice, and Wei Wuxian scrambles to hide behind Lan Wangji. His shidi must be the possessed one.
He peeks his head out from behind broad shoulders, laughing nervously. Only half of it is faked. “Ahaha, Sect Leader Jiang, isn’t that too sudden? I mean, we’ve only just met, at least take me out to dinner or something, first.”
Jiang Cheng raises an eyebrow, but his face is impassive. Wei Wuxian decides to lay it on thicker. Surely this will annoy Jiang Cheng and disgust Lan Wangji at the same time, and then he can leave!
“Aiyo, just because I’m a cut-sleeve doesn’t mean I like all men, you know. Ah, what will I do if Sect Leader Jiang keeps harassing me like this?” Wei Wuxian sighs dramatically, cupping both his cheeks in his hands for good measure.
But Jiang Cheng only laughs, and it isn’t his usual cold laugh either. He sounds genuinely amused. “Oh? Then what type of men do you like, exactly?”
Wei Wuxian pretends to consider. This is his chance! He leaps forward and presses himself to Lan Wangji’s back, clinging onto him. “Men…men like Hanguang-jun, I like a lot!”
Lan Wangji turns his head slightly and throws him an inexplicable look, but his normally cold eyes are sparkling. “Alright. Come back to Lotus Pier with us, then. You said it yourself.”
“Right, so it’d be better for all of us if you just let me—what?” Wei Wuxian splutters, his eyes going wide.
Since when did Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng become us?
Reeling from all the questions he has, Wei Wuxian ends up returning to Lotus Pier with an entourage of Lan and Jiang Sect disciples in tow. He can always make his escape later, he reasons to himself. The layout of Lotus Pier hadn’t changed much since the last time he’d been here anyway, even if most of the buildings are new.
Or, they had been new, thirteen years ago.
The location of the sect leader’s study remains unchanged, though. Wei Wuxian had expected that Jiang Cheng would drag him there, and then possibly torture him until he admitted to be possessing Mo Xuanyu’s body. It’s not like he actively wanted to be, he grumbles to himself.
When Lan Wangji follows them, closing the door behind them and putting both a locking and a silencing talisman on the wood, Wei Wuxian gives up trying to predict what will happen next. It’s not like any of this has gone according to plan so far.
Jiang Cheng leans against his desk, crossing his arms and levelling a familiar look at Wei Wuxian. The same look that tells him to knock off his theatrics and get serious. “Alright, it’s just us now, you can stop pretending.”
Lan Wangji comes up next to him, moving silently against the floorboards. “We do not wish you harm, if that is your concern.”
“Well…” Jiang Cheng says, letting Zidian crackle on his finger in warning.
“Jiang Wanyin,” Lan Wangji scolds, and for some reason, all Jiang Cheng does is sigh in response, Zidian falling silent and docile.
Caught between their gazes, Wei Wuxian doesn’t know how to react. Frankly, he’s been wondering just how he should face these two the entire journey to Lotus Pier. As fate would have it, the two people he didn’t want to see the most are the same two in this very room with him at the moment. One is his former sect leader, his shidi, the man he had sworn and failed to serve after he defected. The other had once been his zhiji, but that had been before he walked the dark, single-planked bridge until he had ultimately died from the backlash of his cultivation. How could he face them?
The air in the study is tense, cold with the blood of three thousand cultivators staining his hands, cold with the tombstones of innocent lives lost too soon, cold with the distance of thirteen long years gone by. Before the two men who had once been closest to his heart, Wei Wuxian feels seen, vulnerable, like a guilty defendant awaiting the verdict of the judge.
Finally, Jiang Cheng sighs, breaking the silence. “I knew you weren’t dead.”
Wei Wuxian lets out a bitter laugh. “Why? Because I’m the evil Yiling Laozu, so I’ll always have tricks up my sleeves?”
“Because you’re Wei Wuxian, and you have never accepted defeat. No matter what. No matter if the situation seems impossible, you’ll always find a way to subvert fate itself.”
Jiang Cheng’s tone holds such impassive determination that Wei Wuxian takes a step back, his heart beating wildly. A chill travels down his spine. He knows.
But if he did, then how can he still talk to Wei Wuxian with such calmness? Still, looking at Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian can’t help but think that he has at least some idea of what happened after he lost his core to the Wens all those years ago.
“Wei Ying has always surpassed expectations,” Lan Wangji affirms at his side, with something like pride in his voice.
Wei Wuxian takes another step back. Why aren’t they yelling at him, demanding answers? The entire situation seems absurd, something out of a dream. Maybe Wei Wuxian hadn’t resurrected after all, and this is just some weird afterlife of his own imagination.
His actions don’t go unnoticed by them. “Still trying to run? There’s nowhere for you to go, this time,” Jiang Cheng tells him, but there is no condescension in his voice. He just sounds tired, and Wei Wuxian feels a twinge of guilt in his heart.
“Stay with us,” Lan Wangji says softly, circling his wrist with his hand. There it is again, that us. What exactly happened in the thirteen years that he had been dead that led to this? Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji are the two people with the most right to hate him, yet neither of them are treating him maliciously.
Wei Wuxian has so many questions, he doesn’t know where to start. Eventually, he blurts out, “How did you know?”
He doesn’t specify, but of course they understand.
Lan Wangji exhales in what might have been a laugh. “Think for yourself.”
“The song,” Jiang Cheng says at the same time, and Lan Wangji glares at him. Still, like everything he has done so for, there is no malice in his action. In fact, he seems almost petulant, like he’s upset that Jiang Cheng had spoiled his fun.
“What song?” Wei Wuxian asks. He thinks back to the encounter at Dafan Mountain, where he had played a nondescript tune to summon any spirits from freshly turned graves to suppress the Dancing Fairy Statue. Wen Ning had responded to his call instead, and then he’d become too violent, and Wei Wuxian had to…. “Oh! Isn’t that like, a popular song in Gusu, or something?”
Lan Wangji suppresses a scoff, but Jiang Cheng has less finesse. Rolling his eyes he says, “Are you stupid?” Then, his eyes widen in realization, and he turns to Lan Wangji. “You never told him?” he says accusingly.
The tips of Lan Wangji’s ears flush red. He remains silent for a moment, and just when Wei Wuxian is about to demand just what is going on, he says, “You have also never revealed your true feelings.”
“Lan Wangji—!” Jiang Cheng doesn’t get to finish his shout, because Lan Wangji has surged forward, swallowing the rest of his protest is a quick, chaste kiss.
Something breaks at the back of Wei Wuxian’s mind, and to his own surprise, his first reaction isn’t shock. No, he had suspected they might be involved with one another based on their actions from earlier, and after his initial disbelief, he quickly reasons that it makes sense. The imposing Sandu Shengshou and the illustrious Hanguang-jun, of course they would be together.
Instead, bitter jealousy wells up inside him. He’s happy that they are able to find comfort with one another, but something like acid settles in his stomach, like he had just drunk a jar of vinegar. Suddenly, the room feels too suffocating, and he wants to leave immediately.
For the second time, Lan Wangji catches his arm, tugging him back gently but firmly.
“Ah, I didn’t know you two were together. Congratulations! I’ll just, uh, leave you two lovebirds to it, haha,” Wei Wuxian rambles, trying to free himself from the tight hold.
“Has being resurrected made you even more stupid? Why did I even bother saving you,” Jiang Cheng asks, muttering the last part like an afterthought.
Wei Wuxian is still struggling against Lan Wangji, but he freezes at the words.
“Jiang Cheng,” he says slowly, carefully, trying to keep the rising hysteria out of his voice. “What do you mean?”
But Jiang Cheng seems to realize he said too much, and he looks again, clenching his jaw. After a moment, he looks back at them, giving Lan Wangji a resigned nod.
“Sixteen years ago, after you escaped from Lotus Pier, Wen soldiers had gone for the two of you,” Lan Wangji begins. His eyes flicker to Jiang Cheng, and only continues when he’s certain that Jiang Cheng doesn’t mind. “To prevent you from being discovered, he distracted them.”
Wei Wuxian’s entire body goes cold. “I thought—I thought you went back for the bodies of your parents,” he stammers.
Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Do you think I’m that stupid? No matter how much I wanted to, I knew there was no way I could actually do it, and I’d be throwing away my life if I tried.”
“But, but you still—”
“Because I was the sect heir and you were a servant! Wen Chao would’ve killed you without a second thought. Even if I ended up dying, you could’ve rebuilt the Jiang Sect better than me,” Jiang Cheng huffs, exasperated, like Wei Wuxian is being the difficult one.
“Jiang Wanyin,” Lan Wangji says evenly. “The Yunmeng Jiang Sect has flourished under your leadership. You are not lesser than him.”
“Whatever,” Jiang Cheng answers, but tension seeps from his shoulders all the same.
The uncomfortable, bitter feeling wells up again at the intimate exchange, and he looks away.
“Don’t even think about leaving again,” Jiang Cheng says, catching his expression. “Did you not hear anything I just said?”
Lan Wangji lets go of him once he is sure that Wei Wuxian isn’t about to run off immediately. “If Wei Ying wishes to leave, then I would not stop him. I only ask that you allow us to come with you.”
“Are you stupid?” Jiang Cheng demands, looking at Lan Wangji incredulously. “I am actually in love with two idiots, holy shit.”
Wei Wuxian is so shocked at Jiang Cheng calling Lan Wangji stupid that when his brain finally processes the second sentence, it well and truly breaks.
The room is silent for a long time.
“Uh,” Wei Wuxian says intelligently. “What?”
“You’re still like this,” Jiang Cheng scowls. “Never listening to anything I say.”
“You just said,” Wei Wuxian says, and oh, there’s the hysteria, “that you are in love. With him.” He points at Lan Wangji, and then at himself. “And me.”
“Oh, thank the heavens, you’re not deaf,” Jiang Cheng says, throwing his hands up.
“And you,” Wei Wuxian continues, looking at Lan Wangji. “You’re okay with this?”
“Wei Ying is dear to both of us,” is Lan Wangji’s response. “There is no reason for me to oppose.”
“I’m actually dreaming.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Jiang Cheng mutters. Then, like he’s fighting a battle within himself, he walks forward before throwing his arms around Wei Wuxian, hugging him close. They had always been about the same height, but Mo Xuanyu’s body is shorter, which means his face is pressed against Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, and the embrace feels intense, overwhelming. “You’re so stupid,” he repeats, with no heat at all.
The hug is so warm, so inviting, that Wei Wuxian’s eyes flutter shut involuntarily. When was the last time anyone had held him with such gentleness? He’s reminded of a cold night in the room of an inn, with Wen Chao whimpering in the background and the body of Wen Zhuliu hanging from the ceiling beams. Jiang Cheng had hugged him like this then, too, but he had been so afraid of his secret being discovered that he had pushed him away.
But now, the fear seems so far away, utterly ridiculous in the face of Jiang Cheng’s firm grip surrounding him, of Lan Wangji’s unwavering presence next to them.
Slowly, tentatively, Wei Wuxian raises his arms, and hugs Jiang Cheng back.