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Wei Ying lets go of Jin Ling the moment they make it to the forest clearing, grey eyes staring beyond the dense line of trees reaching so high the light of the sun is dampened. He picks a direction at random, trusting his gut and hoping for the best. Jin Ling stays behind in the clearing. The young Sect leader is exhausted; the bags underneath his eyes are so dark he looks older than the nineteen-year-old he is.
Wei Ying knows that between Sect work in Lanling, he's been amongst the trees in the forest, keeping a distant watch of Jiang Cheng and being a shoulder to lean on for Lan Jingyi and Sizhui. It's a lot for a boy not yet out of his teens. No, Wei Ying knows that's not true. Wei Ying's generation of cultivators have seen war, have drenched their swords in the blood of their peers not just the waxy decaying flesh of fierce corpses. Jiang Cheng, Nie Mingjue, and Lan Xichen were hardly much older than Jin Ling when they stood on the front lines, leading an army, leading disciples, leading a sect. Jin Ling's own generation has faced death a dozen times over in the darkness of a night hunt; many have married and fathered children of their own.
These last two months have been a lot for a boy like Jin Ling, that has been sheltered in the embrace of an uncle that saw his family fall to flames and did everything in his power to assure that, that last remaining member didn't need to face the same. Wei Ying's sure the events of Guanyin Temple and everything leading up to it was the first time Jin Ling had faced a genuine threat to his life that wasn't exterminated before it could even ruffle his hair.
He sees the violet of the Jiang Sect's robes soon enough and follows after them, stopping in the small clearing. Jiang Cheng stands before him, facing a slow-moving creek still as stone, not moving to even acknowledge him. Wei Ying frowns for just a moment as he stares at Jiang Cheng's back before putting on a giant grin.
"Jiang Cheng," he calls out, stepping out of the shadow of trees with hurried feet. "Do you know long it took me to find you"? Jiang Cheng doesn't respond, but he does turn unseeing, red-rimmed eyes in his direction when Wei Ying's hand comes into contact with his arm. It's a light slap against his martial brother's bicep as he uses it to lean his weight against. "I must have searched the entire forest TWICE!"
Jiang Cheng's lips are pulled into a frown, a small muted thing that makes Wei Ying's heart clench if he stares at it too long. He hasn't cried from what Wei Ying and Jin Ling have observed, hasn't gone into a rage either. Jiang Cheng has been this subdued empty shell of a man since they first came across the mangled remains of Lan Disciples that weren't lucky enough to flee from whatever strange creature they'd come across. Wei Ying doesn't know how to deal with this man. Has not seen him like this since he'd lost his golden core.
"Jiang Cheng," he calls again, unable to hide the concern in his voice when Jiang Cheng turns back to the creek. Jiang Cheng is a skilled cultivator, his core is strong, but even he needs a break eventually if not for his physical health, then surely for the emotional exhaustion. He doesn't say it, but Jiang Cheng seems to understand and turns away from him, pulling his arm out of Wei Ying's grasp in the process.
"I need to finish searching for Lan Huan," He says, walking away from Wei Ying and the creek. His words are quiet, in a way Wei Ying has never heard before. Soft where it's usually sharp. A whisper where it's usually a shout. Broken when it's always been strong rather with righteous rage or petty anger.
"It'll be dark soon," Wei Ying says, casting his eyes to the sky as if pleading to the heavens for a way to help Jiang Cheng through this.
"Go ahead first," Jiang Cheng tells him. "I need to find Lan Huan."
Wei Ying watches him slowly trudge away, hesitating for only a second. "I– I know how to find him!"
Jiang Cheng pauses in his steps.
"I can find him," Wei Ying announces. "I can bring him back to you!"
The way Jiang Cheng looks at him reminds him of years ago, reminds him of a boy with the traces of callow youth clinging to his gaunt face. Jiang Cheng stares at him with those same smoking grey eyes burning bright with hope, as he once had when Wei Ying announced a way to return his melted core to him. Wei Ying doesn't look away. Jiang Cheng crosses the expanse of land between them with quick steps, grabbing Wei Ying's shoulders with a bruising grip. Up close, Wei Ying can see the hysteria that edges around the hope. "Can you really?"
Wei Ying swallows thickly. He has an idea, of course, he has an idea, but an idea is not the same as a tried-and-true method. It's experimental. It can fail. It is why he has not told anyone else. He knows if this goes wrong, Jiang Cheng will never forgive him, that whatever relationship they've managed to salvage will die in the face of failure. Still, he would not be Wei Ying-Wei Wuxian-the Yiling Laozu if he wasn't a little reckless, a little arrogant, a little too obsessed with helping those he cared about. "Of course, Shidi!"
He coaxes Jiang Cheng into returning to Lotus Pier, begging him to sleep, promising that they will talk after, that he will bring back Lan Xichen soon.
Jiang Cheng's eyes are still red when he awakens from a restless sleep, dry and crusted, almost as if he's cried. Jiang Cheng has not cried, not in the weeks that Lan Huan has been missing, not since the burning of Lotus Pier and the melting of his core more than twenty years ago. He thinks maybe he's lost that ability somewhere in the torture he faced. At most, he feels a burning behind his eyes, a tingle and nothing more.
Jin Ling is resting on his hand when Jiang Cheng takes a seat across from Wei Wuxian. He feels a little more put together, a little more himself. Restless or not, that bit of sleep helped pull him from the clutches of his hysteria. The tea he pours himself is lukewarm, bitter like the kind served at Cloud Recesses. He hates it but takes slow sips all the same.
"I know you can't actually bring him back," He says, letting the full bitterness embrace him. His voice seems to startle Jin Ling awake. His nephew drops his arm and stares hard at the side of his face. Jiang Cheng wants to assure him that he is fine, but that is a lie no one in this room is dumb enough to believe. When Wei Wuxian finally leaves, he'll convince Jin Ling to return and stay at Koi Tower. 'What is a Sect without its leader,' he'll say, despite his own madness keeping him from his sect affairs, despite knowing that when they both leave, he will return to the forest to look once more for Lan Huan.
"I can," Wei Wuxian counters, palms flat on the table as he brings himself to his full height. He's tiny. Mo Xuanyu's body is smaller than Wei Wuxian's original body. He sees him nevertheless, the original Wei Wuxian, in the edges of a grin, in narrowed eyes that always seem to know far more than he's willing to let on. Still, when he says he can bring Lan Huan back, Jiang Cheng sees a series of lies and dumb decisions that ended with Jiang Cheng raising an infant and harboring a core that was not his own. He's not that naïve child from the past, he knows Wei Wuxian's plans don't come without a sacrifice.
"Who else have you told this to," Jiang Cheng asks sharply. "I'd assume your Lan Wangji would know about this. Grandmaster Lan?"
"Only you," Wei Wuxian says, a little less confident, not exactly shrinking into himself but no longer at his full height either. "I'll admit it hasn't been done before, but that doesn't mean it can't be."
A bitterness that Jiang Cheng cast away years ago, in the aftermath of the devastation of his ancestral home and his father's death, suddenly swells within him. Look at you, he wants to sneer, the ghost of his mother forever a weight on his shoulders goading him in his mind, no longer a member of this sect and living to the full extent of our motto. What does that make me? A man who has existed as leader for over two decades and only doing the minimum–the expected. Over two decades and a third creeping closer by the second and he still can't escape the shadow of his parents' twisted impressions. Sitting across from this Wei Wuxian, this tiny little man that holds the soul of his brother and all his big ideas, Jiang Cheng feels insignificant, feels like an ant chasing after a butterfly.
"I don't want him back if he'll be like The Ghost General," he says, spitting the title. His hatred of the man, of the fierce corpse, still burns deep. "I don't want to condemn him to a life where he's not fully alive and yet not dead. I don't want him to hurt. If you think he will, then forget it."
"This won't hurt him," Wei Wuxian says. "It's a summoning ritual." At Jiang Cheng's sharp look, he speaks faster and louder, hoping to get all his words out before Jiang Cheng shouts at him or dismisses him. It is similar to the one that brought him back, Wei Wuxian admits. Similar, in its power and nothing more. It will not harm Lan Huan because it does not require him to submit to the summoner's will. It does not require blood or vicious spirits. Forbidden as most rituals of such power tend to be, this ritual could bring him back from anywhere within the Three Realms, body and soul, as if calling on him from a different room.
"What will it cost," Jiang Cheng asks because he knows it is impossible for something that can interfere with the gods and fate to be free. Just as it is impossible for something so powerful to be considered harmless. Disrupting souls, if successful, should require a soul for payment. If unsuccessful, it could still cost them. Mo Xuanyu traded his very soul to bring the Yiling Laozu back, giving up his place in this life and the next for his revenge. If Lan Huan was indeed... gone, the last thing Jiang Cheng wanted to do was hurt his chances at reincarnation.
"Nothing," Wei Wuxian replies, causing Jiang Cheng to furrow his brows. "Neither my soul nor yours," he adds to clarify. It does help ease the tension pulling so tightly within Jiang Cheng's body, but he still has questions, concerns.
"Then," he begins, eyes narrowing and lips downturned, "what will it cost?"
"A spiritual item, something that his soul and core have recognized as a part of him."
Jiang Cheng's left-hand rests on his right wrist, where a white cloth with blue embroidered clouds lies wrapped around his bracer. He'd kept it in a secret inner pocket of his robe, near his heart at first, but after the countless times he'd bring it out to whisper a prayer of Lan Huan's return, he'd begun to wear it around his wrist. It grounded him in a way. In his neverending search, the light pressure around his wrist made it easy at times to pretend it was Lan Huan's gentle touch.
There were rumors that similar to the YunmengJiang bell, the GusuLan forehead ribbon was infused with its owner's spiritual power, but those were rumors, and Jiang Cheng doesn't recall Lan Huan ever saying if any were true. If the rumors are true, Jiang Cheng's not sure it will be enough. He cannot imagine such a tiny piece of cloth being able to bring back a fully grown cultivator of Lan Huan's caliber.
Liebing and Shuoyue were both missing with their owner. Jiang Cheng does not understand how both sword and spiritual artifact can be missing, while the GusuLan forehead ribbon that survived war and fire without coming undone was found amongst the branches. At first, he'd assume it was a signal. Lan Huan would never part with his ribbon, but if he had no other choice in the face of whatever it was that occurred in the forest and needed to send a message that he was okay, then Jiang Cheng thinks he would with the hope and knowledge that his family would keep it safe until they could secure his return. Now, Jiang Cheng does not know what to believe in. He wants to believe in Wei Wuxian, but isn't sure he's willing to bet the only thing he has of Lan Huan on it.
"I'll have to ask Lan Zhan and do some research," Wei Wuxian says, "it's... small, but if the rumors are true, it may be enough. I won't do anything until I know for sure."
Wei Ying talks, and he talks, and he talks some more. He talks far more than he expected. Including Lan Zhan into the plan means no holes, no half-assing things. Lan Zhan doesn't talk as much as him. Still, he wants to hear every one of Wei Ying's thoughts and always responds with a firm "No," when Wei Ying gets a little too reckless, a little too hung up on trying before hypothesizing all possible outcomes.
It takes less than two weeks, twelve days in total, of researching and talking. It feels like an eternity, learning all he can about the GusuLan Sect's forehead ribbon only to come to the conclusion that he can't use it. Lan Zhan comforts him because Wei Ying is pathetic, and seeing that small thread of hope fall from his hands breaks him in a way he didn't think he was still capable of being broken. He can't help them, not Jiang Cheng nor Lan Zhan. He feels useless in the embrace of his husband, being comforted while knowing that Lan Zhan hurts even more than he.
It takes two more days until he can face Jiang Cheng. He's already in the middle of thinking up another plan refusing to go to his brother empty-handed. It's Jin Ling that forces his hand, dashing into the Cloud Recesses without any of the grandeur typically associated with a Jin descendant, let alone the sect leader of LanlingJin. When Lan Zhan and Wei Ying come across him, he looks worst for wear, eyes bloodshot and tears in the corners, hair a mess, leaning into Sizhui with a grim-faced Lan Jingyi beside him. Wei Ying tries not to, but he immediately assumes the worst.
Jin Ling's story is hurried. For the past two weeks, Jiang Cheng has been leaving Lotus Pier to continue his search for Lan Xichen. Some days he would return home in the twilight hours; others, he would be gone for the entire day if not two. The day before yesterday, he returned early, wet from head to toe, holding something in his hands, his face scarier than Jin Ling had ever seen before. He'd locked himself in his private rooms and hasn't come out since. Refusing to answer for food or Jin Ling.
When Wei Ying asks him what he was holding, Jin Ling tenses, briefly looking towards Lan Zhan.
"I didn't see it," Jin Ling begins with an ashamed frown, "but the disciples say it was shaped like a flute."
They leave for Lotus Pier immediately, Wei Ying carried by Lan Zhan's sword as usual, and the two Lan disciples flying alongside Jin Ling out of concern that he may be overexerting himself. The group arrives at Lotus Pier well after dusk has settled. Although the outer walls of Lotus Pier are filled with the familiar hum of the street vendors along the wooden docks that Wei Ying grew up on, the inside is silent. Not a soul can be seen apart from the guards on duty. The silence is stifling. Wei Ying would think they'd somehow ended up back in the Cloud Recesses if it wasn't for the vast lake brimming with pinks and purples of lotus flowers.
Wei Ying heads in the direction of Jiang Cheng's private rooms before pausing in his steps. Their relationship is still fraught with tension, and now without the promise that he can bring Lan Xichen back, he's not sure if his presence will help or hinder them in bringing Jiang Cheng out of his rooms.
Jin Ling ignores his hesitance and stalks past him without pause. He crosses the area with all the confidence of a young master returning home, having already directed the Yunmeng disciples to have servants prepare guest rooms for their party.
Wei Ying follows after him leaving Lan Zhan with Jingyi and Sizhui, coming at a stop at the start of the corridor leading to Jiang Cheng's rooms, watching as Jin Ling strikes the door with firm knocks.
"Uncle," he calls out. "Wei Wuxian is here. Please, come out."
Jin Ling's tone is sharp and demanding despite his words, even his features are made soft with worry. He looks like his mother.
In the morning, they all sit for breakfast well after the five am waking time the Lans are used to. It's still much too early for Wei Ying, and he makes his displeasure known, moaning and groaning to anyone that will bear witness, even if it's only the servants that provide them with tea while they await breakfast. He's been thinking about Jiang Cheng since waking, Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen, and their relationship. It is still difficult to wrap his mind around it. He'd watch as they became friends while Lan Xichen had readjusted to life outside of seclusion. They hadn't hidden that aspect of their relationship, letters sent, and visits to the other's sect. It's when Lan Xichen stopped being Zewu-Jun and became Lan Huan, became his brother's heart, that they had kept under wraps.
"You really shouldn't indulge him so much, Hanguang-Jun, if breakfast at eight is too early for his tastes," Wei Ying hears and snaps his head to the entrance where Jiang Cheng stands. He doesn't look well, but none of them do, all moving under the weight of little sleep and a copious amount of grief. He does look better than whatever Wei Ying expected, presentable in dress and hair, and lips downturned into a weaker version of his familiar scowl. "The time hasn't changed, you just used to charm the cooks into leaving something on the side for whenever you decided to get out of bed."
He settles in the empty seat set aside for him and pulls the familiar flute from his sleeve, placing it on the table before them as he looks towards Lan Zhan. "This should better, correct." Wei Ying grips Lan Zhan a little tighter as he stares down at Liebing. Lan Zhan reaching across the table to pick it up.
"Yes," he breathes, eyes never leaving the xiao. "That will work best." Lan Zhan looks from Liebing to him, and Wei Ying meets his gaze. He gives a small nod, a nod of agreement, and places the object back on the table. Wei Ying turns back to Jiang Cheng to see his eyes are burning bright, much more alive than when Wei Ying was last here.
"Did you bring your notes," Jiang Cheng asks.
"Of course," Wei Ying grins, perking up, a weight lifting off his chest. He could run back to his room and grab them, breakfast hasn't been served yet, and maybe they could do it tonight.
"You will show them to me after breakfast and walk me through the ritual. I shall be the one to lead the ritual when we're ready."
Wei Ying's grin falters a little at the edges, "Jiang Cheng-"
"You golden core still isn't strong enough, and if this fails for any reason with your lead, I will want to blame you."
Jiang Cheng is blunt, never one to mince his words or beat around the bush. Wei Ying knows that he means to say if this fails because he's the one to lead it, all the progress they've made will be for nothing. Jiang Chen will look at him and see this failure alongside all the things he's been working so hard to let go of. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
They spend the entire day going over Wei Wuxian's plans. Wei Wuxian, Hanguang-Jun, and he sit around a table in his study, even though it's only two out of three of them talking. Jiang Cheng is anxious and wants to do the ritual as soon as possible, but he knows better than to be impatient and reckless with this. He asks questions even though Wei Wuxian's notes are surprisingly thorough. By supper, the plan is set. At dawn, after a night of meditation, Jiang Cheng will conduct the ritual with Liebing as a vessel. Wei Wuxian believes it will work, and Hanguang-Jun seems to share in his belief. Jiang Cheng doesn't know if it's his own belief in the ritual itself or in Wei Wuxian's abilities, nor does he care to know.
When they part ways at the entrance of his study, Jiang Cheng parts with a determination to meet his love tomorrow. Jiang Cheng does not return to his rooms after dinner; instead, he heads to a discreet section of Lotus Pier. Hidden, although not exactly a secret.
In this, this exacting replica created from his memories, there are no such things as secrets as long as Wei Wuxian is around. The lodging is larger than the usual storage rooms. It had been empty when he and Wei Wuxian had come across it as children. A secret place where they could hide from his mother whenever it got too hot, and they wanted to skip out on training for a bit.
Here, he will do the ritual, the distance from this empty building to the main courtyard where the disciples' training takes place vast enough to not be disturbed. He takes an empty cushion and sits against the wall near the open window letting the steady night breeze soothe him. This room had gotten much more use since the rebuilding of Lotus Pier. In this small sanctuary, he could allow himself brief moments of being someone other than Sect Leader Jiang.
He holds his clarity bell by the tassel, using the hand that has Lan Huan's ribbon around the wrist. He was never good at meditating as a child. He was better than Wei Wuxian at it, a meaningless victory if any, but never good at it. It became more challenging as an adult. The need for it warring with the number of responsibilities he felt that he was ignoring made it difficult to clear his mind to even begin. Lan Huan made it easier, meditating in the silence of Cloud Recesses together, hearing nothing but the small sounds of the other's breathing, knowing the world wouldn't be on the verge of collapsing in the few hours they were together. Lan Huan's calm manner and his teasing promise that the world could function while they sought a few moments of peace made a near-impossible task as easy as breathing.
It became a routine for them, Jiang Cheng thought it silly at first. Still, after some time, he began to long for those moments when one or the other would visit, and they would sit in the privacy of their quarters meditating together. It was domestic in a way he thought himself incapable of.
Tonight, he closes his eyes, breathing in slow and deep using his clarity bell and the feel of the GusuLan ribbon wound tight around his bared wrist to ground him.
A servant delivers a jar of Yunmeng wine and a pot of tea to their rooms at the request of Wei Ying. Neither of them will be sleeping tonight, Lan Zhan will meditate until dawn. Wei Ying might use the time to relearn the number of lotus plants in the lake or how the moon reflects in the inky depths of the water. He may look towards the wooden bridges, the steps, and turns of this near exacting replica of the only home he'd known for years and try not to get caught in the sweeping nostalgia of childhood memories.
The wine that he enjoyed in his youth tastes like ash on his tongue.
"Lan Zhan~" he calls sweetly, a teasing grin lighting up his features when his husband's eyes meet his own. "You knew, didn't you?"
They haven't had a chance to talk about this yet, about Lan Zhan's brother and Wei Ying's brother in all but blood, about their relationship. So much has taken place in the time of Lan Xichen's absence, between the grief and the added duties, there's been hardly any talk between them. Especially of Lan Xichen.
Lan Zhan gives a slight shake of his head and goes back to regarding his tea. "Did not know... suspected."
Wei Ying's eyes widen, and he clutches dramatically at his heart. "You suspected that your brother was involved with my dearest shidi, and you didn't think to bring this suspicion to me, your husband! You wound me, Lan Zhan! What brought on such a suspicion?"
"Gossip is forbidden," Lan Zhan reminds him mildly though Wei Ying sees the amusement in his eyes. "Brother was... different since becoming friends with Sect Leader Jiang. His smiles were... different." He repeats the word more forlorn than at first, as if he's remembering things from a distant past.
Different, Lan Zhan says.
In love, he means.
Wei Ying tries to recall any of these smiles, but it's challenging. There's a memory, Wei Ying teasing Lan Xichen about going to Lotus Pier, and the shadow of a smile. It hadn't seemed different at the time, but Wei Ying was always a little oblivious to others' subtleties when he wasn't purposely looking to understand them.
It is dawn when Wei Ying's whole body vibrates with a horrible feeling of wrongness. It is nerves clear as day, but he's still bursting with the need to leave at once to meet with Jiang Cheng one final time, to go over the plan, and wish him well.
They will need to go to the markets after, the vendors will only just have begun setting up, or maybe Lan Zhan will indulge him, and they could go hunting. Anything to keep the both of them busy and as far away from Lotus Pier for the time being, restless and fretful in the knowledge that they've played their parts, and there's nothing left for them to do.
Jiang Cheng isn't in his study and doesn't answer the door when Wei Ying knocks loudly at the entrance to his private chambers. Wei Ying strikes harder when he receives no answer, calling for Jiang Cheng loud enough to wake up the dead. When there is still no answer, he steps away and grins at Lan Zhan. "Maybe he started early."
They went over everything there was to go over the day before, and Wei Ying left his notes in Jiang Cheng's study. This was nothing more left to do than Wei Ying and Lan Zhan wishing Jiang Cheng and the ritual well. It won't take long. These sorts of rituals are never long, but they still planned to stay long enough away if Lan Xichen returned and was too overwhelmed or in the case it failed Jiang Cheng could gather his bearings before needing to tell them.
"Let's have breakfast in our rooms," he suggests turning to his husband. "Then we can go out after. It's still too early for many of the merchants to have finished setting up."
There's so much to talk about when it comes to Lotus Pier that Wei Ying never needs to repeat stories when he speaks to Lan Zhan.
"He's only gotten a taste of Lotus Pier," Wei Ying says. They've never really gotten to experience it all, but that makes it better. Each trip, they can do a little more, see a little more.
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says.
Wei Ying looks up at him and laughs loud, bordering on obnoxious. "What's with that face, Lan Zhan? Hmmm?"
He leans forward in his seat, resting his face on his palms and batting his eyelashes.
"Sect leader Jiang will be fine."
Wei Ying's eyes widen momentarily. He isn't shocked, has long since stopped being shocked at the way Lan Zhan could read him, but sometimes it catches him off guard just how Lan Zhan seems to know him and his thoughts better than he knows his own.
"Of course he will, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying says. "We went over everything so thoroughly there's no way he'll not be okay."
"Even if... brother does not return, he will be fine, as will I."
Wei Ying's smile goes a little smaller, twisting into something dark for just the briefest of seconds. He knows Lan Zhan sees it, that Lan Zhan always sees the minute changes of his expressions, but he doesn't want to explain how surviving as they were inclined to do was not the same as being fine. And, because his husband understands him best, Lan Zhan does not question the expression.
Wei Ying ignores the uncomfortable weight in his gut and heads into the market with Lan Zhan. They return well past noon, the sun high above them and plenty of lotus seed buns to share. Wei Ying tells Lan Zhan to wait in their room while he meets with Jiang Cheng, knowing that if it has gone wrong, Jiang Cheng will not want to see him let alone Lan Zhan.
He follows the same pattern from the morning, first going to Jiang Cheng's study and then to his private chambers. When he gets no response, he heads towards the healer's quarters. No one is there, and the healer inside says she has not seen Jiang Cheng in days.
They had not discussed where the ritual would be held the day before. Jiang Cheng wanted to do it alone, and so that information had not seemed crucial at the time. Standing outside of the healer's quarters, he regrets this. He let's his eyes run across the wooden bridges, the opulent lotus lake, landing briefly on a group of purple-clad disciples sitting together underneath the shading of a tree. The sight of them reminds him of himself and Jiang Cheng and a dwelling so far removed from the main residence that Wei Ying had forgotten about it at first. It's the perfect place for a forbidden ritual.
The residence still stands tall, hidden in the shadows of trees as Wei Ying races to it. He bursts into the room, not knowing what to expect. The first thing he notices is Jiang Cheng face down across the edges of the array.
For a second, Wei Ying can only see a face so ashen he looked like a ghost, covered in so much blood Wei Ying had thought him dead. When the vision evaporates, Wei Ying finds himself on his knees, having turned Jiang Cheng onto his back. Blood leaks in study lines from his nose and mouth, smeared across his face from where it began to collect in a puddle, but he's breathing. He lifts Jiang Cheng's head so that he doesn't choke on the blood, pressing a hand over his abdomen and feeling the familiar heat of his golden core, possibly weakened but steady strumming on.
Wei Ying takes a glance around the room, trying to understand what could have gone wrong. The array is perfect, save for where Jiang Cheng's prone form had smudged it. In the center, Liebing lies in pieces. There is no Lan Xichen.
Jiang Cheng wakes with a grumble, bites his lip, and keeps his eyes closed, snuggling into the warmth beside him. The delighted laugh near his ear does little to hold his own smile at bay as his stomach ignites with thousands of fireflies, warm, fuzzy, and glowing. Hair tickles his cheek as a voice sweet and indulgent whispers, "won't you wake up, my love?"
Jiang Cheng grumbles again, and another laugh is heard. He doesn't want to wake. The disciples will be fine learning without his strict supervision, the correspondents can wait until tomorrow if they must. Breakfast will be waiting outside their door, but he does not need to worry about that right now either. For now, he would like to lay here, to remain pressed against the body that holds him, to indulge in his desires just this once. He presses his nose into the crook of his love's neck, where he can almost taste his scent, lotus and sandalwood, and something else that is neither Lotus Pier nor Cloud Recesses but Lan Huan's own. It has a muted sweetness to it, not too perfumy, mild but intoxicating, reminding Jiang Cheng of blooming flowers in late Spring.
"Open your eyes, my love."
Jiang Cheng frowns as profoundly as he can to display his displeasure, lifting his head to give his fiercest glare. He opens his eyes.
Jiang Cheng awakens to the sight of wooden beams of above his head, the warmth he'd dreamed of receding with a shiver. His Lan Huan is not here.
He parts his lips, readying to shout, but a broken gasp slips past his lips. He grips at his abdomen, one hand grasping blindly at his robes just above his heart and the other clenching at his stomach. He feels as if the wind has been knocked out of him. Shuddering deeply, another broken gasp leaves his lips. He can hear his name being called, but the person seems so far away. There is nothing but pain, and for a moment, he thinks he may have been cursed. His eyes burn like never before, and everything is so blurry.
Hands grab blindly at him, and he strikes out, yanking and pulling and trying to get himself away as his name is called again and again.
When Jiang Cheng comes back to himself, he is crying. Wei Wuxian's arms are wrapped around him, holding onto him tightly as he whispers nonsense into his ear. Jiang Cheng does not have the strength to push him away, even if it makes him hate himself a little more.
Hanguang-Jun is in the room with them, he may have come in during Jiang Cheng's breakdown, but now he stands far off to the side, staring out of a window. When he feels Jiang Cheng's eyes on him, he turns towards him, eyes and face unreadable as always. Lan Huan and Lan Wangji's similarities stop at their appearance. Hanguang-Jun might not be as cold as Jiang Cheng first thought him to be, but he is not as open with his expressions, nor as generous with his smiles as his Lan Huan is. How cruel is fate to have him stare at this man, to require him to see this man in future discussion conferences and official sect business and be reminded of a gentle laugh and a sweet smile?
"I am sorry," he says to Hanguang-Jun, resigned in his failure. For all that he may not be fond of the man before him, Lan Huan was his brother, and Jiang Cheng is well-versed in losing a sibling. It is not something that is easy to get over, much less so when there is no body or anything to prove that they are genuinely gone, just their lack of being where they once were.
His apology seems to catch Hanguang-Jun off guard. His eyes stare at him with an intensity that was not there before, but nothing else changes.
"It is not Sect leader Jiang's fault."
Liebing may still be in pieces back in that room, the once pristine white Lan Sect forehead ribbon tied around his wrist has darkened in spots from dirt or blood or sweat. Shuoyue is missing with its owner.
Maybe, if he had allowed Wei Wuxian and Hanguang-Jun to conduct the ritual, Lan Huan would be here with them. These two unstoppable forces have known no enemy that they could not beat. Wei Wuxian, himself, formerly the YunmengJiang's prodigy head disciple, lives today due to some odd immeasurable brand of luck. Blinded by the rage and his inability to forgive the past, he chose not to have them participate and that, he believes, is why Lan Huan is not here with them. He was too small a man to allow his betters to do what they do best.