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He must have heard it wrong.
Wei Wuxian has had various health issues throughout his life, including, but not limited to, literally dying, and although his hearing has never shown any signs of malfunctioning, there must be something wrong with his ears now, because there is no way, there is just no way clan leader Wu said what he thinks he said. He takes a single step forward, tilts his head just so, and listens.
Wu Cheng seems nervous, which would be perfectly understandable, had it been caused by the actual reason for their visit, also known as the violent murders happening in the woods right outside town. In the past two months, five women were found dead, their husbands waking up with their hands drenched in blood and not remembering a single thing. (Lan Jingyi said that sounded convenient, and Wei Wuxian almost agreed before he remembered that he's supposed to be the adult in the group and instead decided to shoot a scolding glance in his direction. It was nowhere near as effective as Hanguang Jun's mere existence in the vicinity would have been.) The men were most likely possessed, but anything that's powerful enough to carry out these horrible murders is way over the Wu clan's paygrade and so they asked for help.
Which is why they are here.
Which is why Wu Cheng should be nervous.
Not because he just asked, very politely, almost scared, if His Excellency the Chief Cultivator would consider, if he's in the neighbourhood anyway, marrying his eldest daughter. Maybe it's just Wei Wuxian, but between Hanguang Jun's love life and people being killed horribly on the regular, the latter sounds like the more pressing issue, yet Wu Cheng certainly seems more nervous about the marriage proposal. Wei Wuxian shifts his gaze to the daughter in question, standing obediently behind her father with her head slightly bowed. She doesn't seem the least bit surprised by her father's offer.
He looks around, but apart from him and a few Lan juniors standing a few steps away, no one seems to think that there is anything out of the ordinary about this. He catches Lan Jingyi's widened eyes and gives him a nod to remind him to behave but frankly, he can relate. There is an appropriate time and place, though, to discuss the Wu clan's messed up priorities and it is definitely not right in front of them where they can hear it. Lan Jingyi lets his shoulders fall but manages to rearrange his expression into polite disinterest. Satisfied that he managed to use what little authority he has to keep the children in line, he turns his attention back to the rather one-sided conversation between Wu Cheng and Lan Wangji.
Unsurprisingly, Lan Wangji is silent. Surprisingly, he is only moderately distressed. Wei Wuxian has learnt over the years that Hanguang Jun is actually very expressive if you know how to read him, and he has spent a considerable amount of time studying his face, so he should know. He is clearly caught off-guard though, and is currently looking for an answer as frantically as the esteemed Hanguang Jun can be frantic about anything, so Wei Wuxian, being the good friend that he is, saunters forward to save him. He puts his palm and fist together and bows towards Wu Cheng, then nudges Lan Wangji's shoulder in an attempt to steer the conversation away from marriage and back towards the much more favourable topic of murder.
“Lan Zhan,” he says quietly, “we talked to the last victim's husband but he's like all the others. He says he doesn't remember anything.”
There is a polite, blink-and-you-miss-it curve to Lan Wangji's lips that was directed at the Wu clan but softens when he turns to him and their eyes meet. Wei Wuxian definitely does not notice or think about it or stare at it any longer than he should. At all.
“Has the road been closed?”
“Yeah, but the villagers all know not to go there anyway.”
Lan Wangji nods and continues to watch him for a few seconds. Wei Wuxian watches him too, because that’s kind of their thing and he likes watching him anyway.
“Wei Ying, you're tired.” He says. “You should rest early tonight.” He turns back to Wu Cheng who's following their conversation with a slightly puzzled expression. “Clan Leader Wu was kind enough to offer me a room for the night. May I trouble one of your people to show him there?”
Wu Cheng's eyes go comically large but he quickly pulls himself together and waves at one of the men standing by his side. Wei Wuxian is just about to leave when he hears him clear his throat and his next words make him freeze.
“Ah, Your Excellency, I didn't know you already…”
Wei Wuxian raises an eyebrow. He is very interested in the rest of the sentence but unfortunately it continues to hang in the air unfinished as Wu Cheng tries to find the politest way to get out of the hole he dug for himself.
“That is to say, I understand why you were so hesitant just now, there is no need to further discuss our proposal. I apologize for the misunderstanding.” He hesitates for a second before he goes on to say, “I have not heard that Your Excellency has already found his cultivation partner.”
Wei Wuxian almost lets out a bitter laugh. He turns back to Lan Wangji and waits for him to correct Wu Cheng, to recoil, to say they aren’t anything, it’s just that he happened to save Wei Wuxian’s life a few times and now he can’t get rid of him. He waits for him to clarify and he waits for the weight in his chest to press against his lungs a little harder, like it does every time his hand finds Lan Wangji’s arm or shoulder and he goes tense under his touch.
He waits and waits and Lan Wangji does none of the above.
Instead, he says, “Mn.”
Huh. He must be desperate to get out of this marriage proposal. Wei Wuxian considers his options at lightning speed and quickly arrives at the conclusion that helping him out is in everyone’s best interest, especially his own. He makes a decision then, a decision that he is one hundred percent sure to regret later when it starts to hurt him, but well. Self-preservation is not among the things he’s famous for.
He jumps back to Hanguang Jun’s side and puts his arm around him. He pretends it doesn’t hurt when Lan Wangji goes rigid against him, and holds him a little closer, curling his fingers around his shoulder.
“Oh, yes,” Wei Wuxian says with a cheerful smile, because he is an idiot. “Clan Leader Wu, please accept my apologies, but I’m afraid the Light Bearing Lord is already spoken for.”
He feels Lan Wangji’s eyes on him but he refuses to look at him, stubbornly keeping his eyes on Wu Cheng who is rapidly nodding. He is probably scared that the Yiling Laozu will hang him upside down by his insides in a fit of jealousy if he doesn’t agree fast enough, and honestly, his forever tarnished reputation might sting sometimes but it does have its advantages. He wouldn’t actually do it, but Wu Cheng doesn’t need to know that.
Lan Jingyi’s cheeks are puffed up and he looks like he bit his own tongue to stop himself from laughing. Lan Sizhui, bless his heart, remains silent, face unchanging, but the tips of his ears are suspiciously red.
As soon as he finishes the sentence, the tension goes out of Lan Wangji’s body like a long-held breath escaping. Wei Wuxian rubs his thumb against the delicately curved shoulder and tells himself that it’s to reassure Lan Wangji and it has nothing to do with his own selfish feelings.
“If there is nothing else,” he says, “Clan Leader Wu, please excuse us.”
***
He doesn’t let go of Lan Wangji until they are safely in their room, away from the prying eyes and ears. Then, he collapses on the bed. There is only one, but that’s not exactly unusual, it has long stopped being an issue when they are on the road, however, it is the first time it happens after Wei Wuxian publicly claims Lan Wangji as his husband.
Shit. He just publicly claimed Lan Wangji as his husband. Of course, it was only to get him out of a marriage he didn’t want, except… wait.
“Lan Zhan,” he says, propping himself up on his elbows, and a part of his brain that’s still functional starts yelling at him to stop, “Wu Xiaoman is a nice girl, isn’t she?”
“She is,” Lan Wangji agrees. He stands with his back to him, so it’s impossible to determine the level of enthusiasm on his face but Wei Wuxian would guess it’s somewhere near non-existent.
“Are you sure you don’t want to marry her?” He is thinking out loud now, and his brain is begging him to shut up. “She’s pretty and intelligent and I heard she’s very capable with a sword. Her clan isn’t big or powerful but it’s not like the Lans need a political marriage so you can choose whoever your heart desires.
“I’m planning to.”
“Oh. So you don’t like Wu Xiaoman?”
Lan Wangji turns around and looks at him with an expression that Wei Wuxian is sure he’s seen before but can’t quite place at the moment.
“Wei Ying,” he says, “Wu Xiaoman doesn’t want to marry me either.”
“I take it back, she’s not intelligent. Who wouldn’t want to marry you?”
Wei Wuxian wants to kick himself. His brain has given up yelling at him though and went into seclusion to contemplate his host’s life choices.
“Well, I think you’re a catch, Lan Zhan,” he says. “But I ruined your chances now and they can’t find out that we lied, it would be so embarrassing.”
For Hanguang Jun, mainly. Wei Wuxian’s social standing can take the hit, it can’t get any worse anyway, but he’s not about to mention that. Lan Wangji is still looking at him and his face is still doing the thing, and he can’t figure out what it means, because he’s also very distracted by that face. He wants to cover it with kisses until he can smooth out the hard line of Lan Zhan’s lips with his own. He is struggling to remember why he shouldn’t do just that before he remembers that a) they are not actually married and b) Lan Zhan would probably murder him, or worse, make him leave and never talk to him again.
He doesn’t want to live out his second life without Lan Wangji in it.
He has known this for a while, although he can’t pinpoint the exact moment he realized the truth of this statement. He doesn’t remember when wanting to hold onto the only person who stood by his side turned into wishing Lan Wangji would just press him into a bed they share and whisper his name against his skin until he comes apart under those beautiful hands. He can’t remember when he first imagined their bodies entangled, his fingers twisted into Lan Wangji’s hair, tracing the fine line of his jaw, digging into his skin. It feels like forever, yet something new at the same time and he sometimes wonders if there ever was a time he didn’t want Lan Wangji.
“Why did you?” he asks suddenly and Wei Wuxian struggles to recall what they were talking about.
“Huh?”
Not a great conversation so far, and he thinks Lan Wangji might agree because his face does something complicated and he takes a step closer to him.
“Why did you lie, Wei Ying?”
Oh, how much he likes it when Lan Zhan says his name. What was the question again?
“You,” he frowns and sits up properly, hoping that his traitorous face doesn’t betray him. “You seemed like you didn’t know how to say no without offending them. It was the only thing I could think of to help you out.”
“Mn. Thank you. It is… easier to refuse when they send letters.”
“When they…” Wei Wuxian’s eyes widen. “Lan Zhan, how often do you get marriage proposals?”
If he didn’t know him, he would think Lan Wangji looks a bit smug as he turns away without an answer.
No, scratch that. His Excellency the light bearing lord is definitely laughing at him in his own way, meaning that his eyes glint with a light rarely seen in them and his mouth has a small, suspicious curve that is without a doubt the hint of a smile hiding there. Wei Wuxian is scandalized.
“Lan Zhan!” he exclaims. “You never told me. I’m wounded. And you said no to all of them?”
There is a beat of silence and then, “As Wei Ying said. I will choose whoever my heart desires.”
Wei Wuxian takes a deep breath. Thankfully, his brain comes out of seclusion at that moment and stops him from complete self-destruction so he doesn’t ask about Lan Wangji’s heart and said heart’s preferences in this matter.
Instead, he decides that if he only gets to be Hanguang Jun’s husband for a day, then he might as well make the most of it and enjoy every second. Glass half full, and all that, he hangs onto this mindset for dear life as he drags his newfound significant other to the dinner they agreed to have with the Wu clan that evening.
***
He hoped Wu Cheng would quickly go through the five stages of grief and accept the situation by the time dinner comes around, but apparently the old man is stuck on step one. Nothing else could explain the seating arrangement he came up with.
On Lan Wangji’s left sits Wei Wuxian, fake husband extraordinaire.
On his right, Wu Xiaoman.
There might be some truth to what Lan Wangji said though, because from this angle, Wei Wuxian can see the displeased set of her eyebrows, her shoulders tense. She keeps her eyes firmly on the table in front of her, and now he understands that what he interpreted as obedience is more likely silent resistance. Her expression softens when a girl comes to serve her food, and she thanks her with a smile which, Wei Wuxian has to admit, looks lovely on her. As she looks up though, her gaze catches her father’s who nods his head at her. It is only then that she turns to Lan Wangji and clears her throat.
“Your Excellency,” she says quietly, with a short bow of her head, “thank you for your help with these horrible attacks. We are all very grateful for your clan’s assistance.”
Lan Wangji’s social skills have certainly improved since he took the position of chief cultivator because, much to Wei Wuxian’s annoyance, he doesn’t ignore her.
“It is my duty to help,” he says.
“What do you think is responsible?”
Wei Wuxian has to give her credit for not assuming that the husbands committed the crimes. She also seems genuinely interested in the answer, which would be a good thing except her being interested in anything that has to do with Lan Wangji doesn’t sit well with him, even if it’s just about night hunting.
“It would not be wise to guess without sufficient information,” Lan Wangji says. “However…”
Wei Wuxian gives a silent thanks to Wu Cheng for only inviting the two of them and not the junior cultivators. His face isn’t thick enough to do what he’s about to do in front of children.
“Lan Zhan,” he interrupts. “Lan Zhan!”
At least Lan Zhan clearly has his priorities sorted out because he immediately abandons the conversation and turns back to him.
“Wei Ying?”
“Here,” he says, and holds up his bowl, raising his spoon directly to Lan Wangji’s lips. “Try the soup.”
Lan Wangji looks up at him, then back at the spoon at his mouth.
“It’s not that spicy,” Wei Wuxian tells him. “Just the way my husband likes it.”
And just like that, he is hand feeding the Chief Cultivator in front of the entire Wu clan. He kind of forgets what his original purpose was as he watches the delicate lips touching the spoon that he used just seconds before, but when he comes back to himself, he is happy to see that Wu Xiaoman turned back to her own table and resumed staring at her food. Although she no longer looks at it like it personally wronged her, there is a pink spot on her cheek, so overall, Wei Wuxian is satisfied. He might be a bit shameless, but he gets results.
With the most immediate danger averted (Hanguang Jun falling victim to an arranged marriage), he turns his attention to the other one they need to deal with.
“Lan Zhan,” he says again, and this time he lowers his voice because he means business, “what do we do about this thing in the forest? It has to be some kind of spirit that’s strong enough to control living humans, but how do we catch it?”
Lan Wangji opens his mouth to speak but he waves a hand, rolling his eyes. “I know, I know, I shouldn’t guess without sufficient information. But Sizhui and the others have already put up some powerful traps and it didn’t even show up.”
Lan Wangji tries to silence him with a look. It doesn’t work.
“Or is that not what you were about to say?” he asks, suddenly excited. “Huh, so your husband is allowed to guess, am I right? It’s because I’m so smart, admit it.”
“No talking during meals,” Lan Zhan reminds him.
“Oh, so that’s what you wanted to say.” He scrunches his nose and hopes the bitterness in his voice isn’t too honest. “But Wu Xiaoman is allowed to talk, why do I have to be quiet?”
“I cannot discipline Wu Xiaoman. I can discipline you.”
Wei Wuxian shuts up immediately before he accidentally blurts out something like "yes please, discipline me, Lan Zhan".
He notices Wu Cheng watching them from the other side of the room so he scoots closer and gently touches Lan Wangji’s arm. He leans against him, acting like he’s about to whisper sweet nothings into his husband’s ear.
“But seriously,” he says, “we should come up with a plan.”
He feels bold and encouraged by the way Wu Cheng is looking at them, like he is personally experiencing the hardships of all his ancestors at the same time, so he moves even closer and softly nudges Lan Wangji’s shoulder with his chin.
“Wei Ying. Behave.”
“Or what?” he asks with a cheeky grin. “You’ll discipline me?”
He is definitely going to hell.
It gets even worse when Lan Wangji doesn’t push him away, just turns his head to speak softly into his hair.
“If I have to.”
Wei Wuxian freezes against him. Part of him wishes they were alone right now so he could ask some follow-up questions like how long would that take and would it include any tools for strictly educational purposes, but the other part, the one that usually keeps him alive (except when it doesn’t) is grateful that he has an excuse not to continue this conversation. His brain is of no assistance, helpfully providing visual representation of what Hanguang Jun disciplining the Yiling Patriarch would look like. He decides to hide his face in Lan Wangji’s robes while he briefly considers screaming himself into a higher plane of existence.
“Wei Ying.”
“Lan Zhan.”
“Sit properly. People are watching.”
Yeah, well, that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? Wei Wuxian scrapes together the last remains of his dignity and untangles himself from Lan Wangji’s arm. He needs a distraction, so he goes back to a safer topic and tries to recall what he wanted to say before his brain clocked out.
“Right. Anyway. Murder, ghost. Plan.” He clears his throat. “What are we going to do?”
“It attacks the same way every time.” Lan Wangji considers every word carefully as he thinks. “It controls or possesses the man to kill the woman.”
“Has there been any other kind of attack?” he asks. “Did it ever try to hurt a man?”
“Not that we know of.”
“So we need a woman.” Wei Wuxian frowns. “I don’t feel comfortable using someone as bait.”
And then he gets a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Idea.
***
They send the juniors back to the forest road. They need to destroy the spirit nets they left there, in case the entity is intelligent enough to smell a trap. Lan Sizhui did his best kicked puppy impression to try and convince them to let him come along, but just like Lan Jingyi and the others, he, too, has been warned to stay away from the woods after they finish cleaning up.
Instead of the Lan disciples, they enlist Wu Xiaoman to help them.
Wei Wuxian isn’t too happy about it, but it’s better than her first suggestion to ditch the plan and just use her. As much as the possibility of her marrying Lan Wangji freaks him out, he wouldn’t actually want her to be harmed. She is so nice anyway it’s infuriating, and gets weirdly excited when they explain what exactly they need from her. Wei Wuxian can’t hate her, despite the fact that she and her friend, the girl who brought her dinner before, examine Lan Wangji’s body far too long for his liking.
“We’ll need some time,” she says, tilting her head as she circles him, “I don’t think I have anything at hand. But we can do it, right, A-Jing?”
The girl called A-Jing gives them a rather unfriendly nod. “By tomorrow night.”
Wu Xiaoman presses her lips together and narrows her eyes, adorable dimples appearing on her face as she addresses Lan Wangji. “I’m thinking a light blue, like your clan.”
And I’m thinking you should stop looking at him, Wei Wuxian wants to say.
“Anything will do fine,” Lan Wangji tells her. “We appreciate your help.”
True to their word, they present their creation early the next evening. They stand outside the door while they wait, and if they find it strange that Wei Wuxian joins them, they don’t mention it. He does not offer up an explanation either; he silently starts to recite the Lan clan’s four thousand rules to calm his racing heart.
Lan Wangji is quick enough though, he is only at rule two hundred and thirty-four (“Do not be of two minds.”) when he opens the door and lets them in.
Wei Wuxian complies with the rule like a model student since he immediately loses the one mind he had.
And… listen. Wei Wuxian has seen all kinds of horrors in the world and he has defeated them all. He faced ghosts, monsters, the Wen clan, Jiang Cheng's anger, and although sometimes scarred, he persevered and always, always came out victorious.
None of them prepared him for this moment. He’s not sure how he is going to survive this.
Lan Wangji stands in front of him, his posture stiff as always, his blank expression refusing to reveal any emotion swirling under the surface as he smooths down his outer robe with a light touch. The soft lavender colour looks good on him, although it shouldn't be a surprise. Hanguang-Jun could wear a peasant's rugged clothes and he would still have an elegant, commanding presence that outshines everyone in the vicinity.
“I didn’t have blue,” Wu Xiaoman tells them, “but I think this looks good too.”
Wei Wuxian makes a strangled sound and hopes it counts as positive feedback.
The clothes aren’t perfect of course. A-Jing and Wu Xiaoman had but a day to come up with something, and it shows on the craftsmanship, the hurriedly finished seams and the mismatched colours. However, the materials are all light, flowing and silky, made from Wu Xiaoman’s own robes that she doesn’t wear anymore, and the dress hugs Lan Wangji’s figure in all the right ways. There is a makeshift veil that should obscure most of his face from the ghost, his hair under it falls freely down his back, only held together by a thin braid at the back of his head, sans the difficult updo on the top, to make him appear shorter. He’s still wearing the Lan headband.
“What do you think?”
Wei Wuxian is busy doing some breathing exercises when he belatedly realizes that Wu Xiaoman asked him a question.
“Uhng,” he says, because he’s smart.
What does he think? He hates it. He hates it so much he wants Lan Wangji to take it off at once. He hates it so much he wants to cover every bit of Lan Wangji’s body that touched that dress with his mouth.
“Hm. It’s good,” he says, and he can’t seem to stop nodding. “Should work. For the ghost, hm. It will do.”
Then Lan Wangji says his name quietly, raising his head to look at him, and there he is, Hanguang Jun shining through the mask of a shy woman to ground him with his gaze. No, not Hanguang Jun. His Lan Zhan. “Wei Ying, we should go.”
Wei Ying might go into qi deviation any second, but sure.
He takes Lan Zhan’s hand into his when they reach the edge of the woods, just outside the road leading to the scene where the attacks took place. He is distracted by the unexpected warmth of Lan Wangji’s palm and the sure grip he has on his fingers, and Wei Wuxian squeezes once, turning his head to smile at him as they walk.
“Lan Zhan,” he says softly, “you’re my wife now. Who would have thought?”
Lan Wangji turns to him but avoids his eyes, looking at their entwined fingers instead.
“Does it make Wei Ying happy?”
Wei Wuxian’s smile grows into a grin and he swings their hands back and forth.
“Very happy,” he replies, because he can’t lie to Lan Wangji, never could and never felt the need to. His grin fades as he thinks about what awaits them. “I’m just worried. What if the ghost shows up and I attack you?”
“Do you want me to tie your hands together?”
Oh, the wonderful Hanguang Jun. Only he could ask this question in this setting with a completely straight face and mean it. Wei Wuxian ought to lighten the mood a little.
“Ah, Lan Zhan, don’t threaten me with a good time.” With his free hand, he gives the veil covering Lan Wangji’s face an affectionate tug, and because he never cultivated a filter between his brain and his mouth, he adds, “I like your hair like this. Hanguang Jun truly looks beautiful.”
“Wei Ying, be serious.”
“I am serious,” he says, “I’ve never been more serious in my life.”
His hand moves to the stray strands of Lan Wangji’s hair falling on his shoulder, smoothing them down and out of the way. Sunset drips through the canopy of trees above them, painting him in a golden light and Wei Wuxian is so distracted by it that he almost doesn’t notice when they arrive.
The clearing surrounding this part of the road shouldn’t look idyllic considering what took place there, but it still does. He understands now why so many couples like to take their romantic walk here; the air feels light on his skin and the world comes to a standstill as everything falls out of focus, drifting away to leave only Lan Zhan as his anchor.
He looks so beautiful it makes Wei Wuxian’s heart twist painfully in his chest.
“I told you before.” Lan Wangji lets go of his hand. “You should not flirt with people if you don’t mean it.”
He looks at him like he wants to see right through him and into his mind to work out what he’s thinking, and honestly, Wei Wuxian doesn’t understand why he can’t. His love for Lan Zhan is so overwhelming, it feels like it should be written on his face for the whole world to bear witness. If nothing else, the last two days should have given him away. There is only so much one can do besides loudly declaring oneself to be married to the object of his affections.
Seriously, he fed him soup. That’s the most profound way he knows to express his feelings.
There is a tightness in his chest and the air starts to feel too much. He frowns and steps closer but keeps his hands to himself, gripping his own wrist behind his back. He can feel it slightly trembling. Still, he pushes through, because suddenly it’s very important that Lan Zhan understands him.
“What makes you think I don’t mean it?”
Lan Wangji is speechless for what feels like forever. The trembling gets worse and spreads upwards to his arms and shoulders so he digs the heels of his shoes into the ground, one after the other, and tries to force himself to stay still.
“Wei Ying, what…” The world sways under his feet or maybe he does and Lan Wangji’s voice changes, uncertainty and something else that sounded like hope, giving way to concern. “Wei Ying?”
Wei Wuxian can’t breathe anymore. His hand shoots out to grab the sword on his side and only then he realizes what’s happening.
“Lan Zhan,” he gasps, “get away from me!”
He clenches his jaw and fights for his own consciousness as the world goes dark and bloody around him, and he falls, falls deep into an endless abyss until he can’t feel his own body anymore. The last thing he hears is the sharp sound of his sword being unsheathed and then he is not aware of anything anymore.
***
He has no idea how much time has passed when he finally opens his eyes again. It’s dark now, the uneven ground has grown cold and is digging into his back, unforgiving. He blinks slowly until the night sky above him shifts into focus. Every part of him feels wrung out and boneless, but he vaguely registers that nothing actually hurts so he’s probably alive and in one piece.
That’s good. It would suck to have to be reborn again into a third body just when he started to accept the second one as his own. Would Lan Zhan recognize him again just as easily?
Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no, Lan Zhan. Did he kill him? If he did, there is no need to bother with a third body, he will happily fling himself down from another cliff never to return.
He stays on the ground but turns his head this way and that. He’s alone.
But no, that can’t be right.
Although he did manage to grow a new golden core, it is nowhere near as powerful as his original one, not yet anyway. He shouldn’t be able to defeat Lan Zhan in a duel. How strong was this ghost? Could it have amplified his abilities enough to…?
He scrambles to his knees and looks down at his hands. They are clean, not a drop of blood on them, nor on his clothes as far as he can see in the dark, and he frantically searches his body and his surroundings for anything that might give him a clue to what happened.
Then he hears the sound of light footsteps and it’s music to his ears, the most beautiful song in the world because he can recognize it. He would know it anywhere, anytime, because he is Wei Wuxian and it’s second nature to him to know everything about Lan Zhan.
The footsteps become quicker when Lan Wangji sees him awake and kneeling, and he sits down next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders to support him.
“Wei Ying, how are you feeling?”
Wei Wuxian chokes out a laugh and twists his hand into the lavender robes Lan Wangji is still wearing.
“I’m alright,” he says, and then he can’t help himself, he smacks Lan Zhan’s arm lightly and pushes himself up from his embrace. “But where did you go? Did you just leave me?”
“Someone was here. I went to check.”
“Let me guess, Wu Cheng came to see if I happened to die. Well bad news, Clan Leader Wu, I’m still kicking.”
“Don’t be silly,” Lan Zhan tells him. “It was Jingyi and Sizhui.”
“A-Yuan disobeyed us?” Wei Wuxian frowns. “Tsk, he’s becoming a rather rebellious teenager. He spends too much time with Jin Ling.”
“They were worried.”
“Well, I was too,” he scoffs. “I woke up and you weren’t here, I thought…”
He struggles again to move, supporting himself on Lan Wangji’s shoulders as he sits up properly to face him. Now that he moved around a bit, he is more sure that he doesn’t have any injuries, not a single bruise or a light stab wound. It feels weird, he’s almost used to being stabbed.
“Now let me look at you,” he says and he holds Lan Wangji’s face in his hands. And if his fingers are already there anyway, he strokes Lan Wangji’s cheekbones with his thumbs too. And since he doesn’t get pushed away or punched in the nose or killed on the spot, he is encouraged enough to press his forehead against Lan Wangji’s, one of his hands sliding to the back of his neck to hold him close.
He remembers their conversation that got rudely interrupted by a murderous spirit. Hopefully, Lan Zhan won’t seriously ask him again if he actually means this or he might spontaneously combust out of sheer frustration. The Chief Cultivator really should be smarter than that.
Speaking of being interrupted by a murderous spirit, though.
“What happened?” he asks quietly in the small space between them. “With the ghost?”
“We destroyed it.”
“We? I don’t think I was of much help, but thanks for giving me credit.”
Lan Zhan lifts a hand to his chin and tilts his head up a little. Wei Wuxian decides to hold onto the idea of spontaneous combustion, for entirely different reasons than before.
“Don’t belittle yourself,” he says. “You resisted it.”
“Lan Zhan, did I…?” He swallows, tries again. Lan Zhan seems fine, there isn’t a single tear in his robes, not a hair out of place, so Wei Wuxian rearranges his thoughts and says something that’s a little bit closer to the truth than a meaningless question. “I was scared I would hurt you.”
“I wasn’t,” Lan Wangji says simply. “I knew Wei Ying would never harm me.”
He says it so easily, like he doesn’t even have to think about it, like the idea truly never even crossed his mind. It would sound cheesy from anyone else, but from Lan Zhan, it just sounds like a fact, simple and universal.
Wei Wuxian still has one palm curled around his jaw and the other holding the nape of his neck, and really, it feels like the easiest decision in the world when he closes the distance between them and presses his lips against Lan Zhan’s.
He has spent a lot of time imagining what it would feel like to kiss him but his imagination is clearly lacking because the real thing is so much better. He feels like kicking himself for not kissing him sooner. He’s been following Lan Wangji around for years, and all that time, they could have been doing this. He makes a happy sound, lets Lan Zhan go, then changes his mind and presses back once, twice more.
Lan Wangji’s arms encircle his waist and Wei Wuxian clings to him as shamelessly as he dares. He traces an eyebrow with his index finger, because he does have a lot of touching to catch up on and he intends to start now.
“Hey, Lan Zhan.”
“Yes, Wei Ying?”
“I hope you know that under no circumstances are you allowed to marry Wu Xiaoman.”
Lan Zhan is giving him that face again, and now he recognizes it for what it is. He thinks he’s being stupid. Wei Wuxian can live with that as long as he gets a clear promise with actual words pronounced out loud that his fake husband will not fake divorce him for someone else.
“Wei Ying, Wu Xiaoman already has someone in her heart too.”
“Oh.”
Lan Wangji is waiting patiently for him to connect the dots. It doesn’t seem to be happening.
“I still don’t get why she wouldn’t want to marry you. Literally everyone should be heartbroken that you’re mine.”
He blushes a little when he finishes the sentence, so he hides it behind a giggle. It felt damn good to say, though, so he makes a mental reminder to repeat it as often as possible. He should make it a new Lan clan rule. Lan Qiren would be overjoyed.
“We should go back,” Lan Zhan says, and he doesn’t explain what he said about Wu Xiaoman so Wei Wuxian lets it go. He doesn’t really care as long as Hanguang Jun doesn’t get married in the near future to anyone but him.
He feels nothing but endless delight as he sneaks his arm around Lan Wangji’s neck and pouts.
“But I’m tired,” he whines. “Being controlled by a ferocious ghost is exhausting. Lan Zhan should carry me back in his arms.”
“Wei Ying.”
“I know, I know, I’m being shameless.”
“Mn.”
“You should probably discipline me.”
Lan Wangji doesn’t say yes, but he doesn’t say no either, so Wei Wuxian takes it as a promise.
He does get carried back in Lan Zhan’s arms, though.
