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The white roses of Cloud Recesses are famous. They bloom beautifully pale in the mists, and turn bright sparkling white in an hour or two. The Lan clan says it is because they play Cleansing so often, that the healing energy turns the flowers white. Everyone knows only white flowers bloom in Cloud Recesses.
He remembers that the white roses are so legendary that young ladies challenge their young men to get them a Gusu rose to prove their devotion. They are not often satisfied. The last time a Gusu rose left the Cloud Recesses was when Lan Xichen took two bouquets as gifts for his sworn brothers. Jin Guangyao keeps his in a golden vase in the Carp Tower, kept alive and sparkling white with spiritual energy. Nie Mingjue was not especially fond of roses but he did admit that these had a lovely fragrance, and Huaisang had artfully arranged them for him on his bedside table, claiming that the scent would help settle his Qi as he sleeps; it may have worked.
There was one time it didn’t work. He remembers a white rose that fell out of long silky hair, sliding down one white sleeve while the other held a little boy.
“Wei Ying. Come with me to Gusu?”
“Ah, Lan Zhan, Gusu is no place for people like me. Do you see this resentful energy? That blood pool was just water, before. If I come to Gusu, your roses will turn bloody too.”
“Gusu roses don’t always have to be white, Wei Ying. Please.”
“Lan Wangji-ah Lan Wangji. I shall come to Gusu when your roses turn red.”
Eventually, his resentment did turn everything red. Shijie...even Lan Zhan’s white sleeves were red with blood. And then there was a cliff, and he really could not go to Gusu after all.
Many years later, he is dragged kicking and screaming up the Gusu hills, into Cloud Recesses. He is escorted through the rose garden, all the way to the Jingshi and spends the night lying boneless on top of Lan Wangji, shivering and too hot at the same time. He wakes alone.
There is breakfast set at a table for him, and he eats, and goes outside to stretch his legs. The sun is warm on his skin, and the mists are clearing. He looks at the flowers around the back of the Jingshi, and stops short.
The back of the house is overgrown with roses, all of them deep, dark red.
He walks around them, carefully. He saw white roses all through his walk to the Jingshi yesterday, he remembers. He knows about the healing energy turning the flowers white. Only Lan Zhan’s mother’s gentians had the faintest colour to them, because they were also grown with spiritual energy somewhere else and then moved to Cloud Recesses. Perhaps something similar? Otherwise surely Lan Wangji’s strong spiritual energy would have turned these white?
Lan Wangji comes around outside the Jingshi, and stops.
"Wei Ying?"
"Ah Lan Zhan, I—was looking for a Gusu white rose to heal me, ahaha."
Lan Wangji’s eyebrows draw together in concern.
“Shall I play cleansing for you?”
“Oh no no I was only joking, I’m fine, Hanguang-Jun. Do you think red suits me better?”
“Yes. You can have as many of these as you like.”
“Lan Zhan, these roses?”
Lan Wangji looks oddly evasive.
“Ah, they turned red several years ago.”
His throat is closed with nerves, with the memory of something from many many years ago.
One white rose, skittering down a white sleeve.
“Surely you could play Cleansing to turn them back to white?”
“I kept them that way,” Lan Wangji whispers.
“Why? You like red roses, how surprising, Lan Zhan, how—”
“I kept them red for someone.” He stares.
“I kept them for someone who promised to come here when the roses turn red.”
His knees give out.
Months later, he sits near the window in the Jingshi, looking at the roses outside and running his fingers over the whip scars on Lan Wangji’s back. He kisses them one at a time as Lan Wangji’s breath hitches softly.
“They—” Lan Wangji begins, “they used to bleed a lot in the beginning.”
He hooks his chin on Lan Wangji’s shoulder, humming encouragingly.
“Xiongzhang used to help me clean them up. Sometimes other healers. They would wring out the cloths near the rosebushes. I didn’t think about it then. Later…”
He rears back. “Lan Zhan!!! Then these roses are...from...from…”
He cannot bring himself to say it. He sets his forehead on LWJ’s shoulder and draws in a deep, shaking breath.
“Gusu roses don’t always have to be white, huh?”
Lan Wangji turns in his arms.
“I kept them for Wei Ying. So you would know that you’re always welcome here.”
The white roses of Cloud Recesses are famous. They bloom beautifully pale in the mists, and turn bright sparkling white in an hour or two. The Lan clan says it is because they play Cleansing so often, that the healing energy turns the flowers white. Everyone knows only white flowers bloom in Cloud Recesses. But the girls (and a few boys) in Caiyi town speak of one cultivator in Cloud Recesses who visits the market often, a red tassel on the flute at his waist, and a rose red as heart's-blood in his hair.