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It’s been months.
.
It’s been months since Lan Wangji has last woken up aching everywhere. The incurable kind of pain that feels like it’s rooted under your skin. He says he has healed now. Certainly, his scars from the discipline whip have.
He doesn’t remember how many years he has missed being bedridden, in pain, looking at the ceiling of his Jingshi and dreaming about a red ribboned ponytail with a radiant smile that turned into a shadow that reeked of blood and death in front of his own eyes- while he stood, defeated and an echo of “get lost” played numerous times through his head.
When he gained his senses and his mind wasn’t hazy with the medicines, he did take notice how every year during one cold particular winter morning A-Yuan would come to him, one small hand holding Xiongzhang’s fingers and the other- flowers or ink-pots for him and they would spend the entire day together.
Not that A-Yuan doesn’t come once or twice at least every week, but he has had his classes started as a Lan disciple and if Shufu lets him spend one whole day with his A-die and he comes bearing gifts- that can mean only one thing.
One very important thing.
This is A-Yuan’s birthday.
.
.
Tomorrow is A-Yuan’s birthday.
The thought strikes him when he is at his study, long after their dinner, mindlessly grading papers. Ink on his hands and probably on his face, too.
Lans, they don’t really celebrate birthdays, or anything, really, but it is his A-Yuan’s birthday, his Wei Ying’s A-Yuan’s birthday- and also his first birthday after Lan Wangji had woken up- Wei Ying would never let him see the end of it if he doesn’t do anything about it he thinks, as he gets ready for a bath.
.
A silhouette hovers around the doors to his Jingshi, and as he opens up, he meets a soft smiling Zewu Jun, holding hands with a little A-Yuan, who doesn’t put his other hand in his mouth anymore.
He has really grown up he thinks, for the first time in years, and I missed it, haven’t I, laments the father inside him.
He kneels down in front of his son. “Aren’t you sleepy yet, sweetling?”, he asks.
“I am,” A-Yuan nods, not looking at him.
The boy is never timid, he thinks, but he feels something bubbling inside him and “would you want to sleep with A-die tonight?”, he ends up saying.
And what if A-Yuan doesn’t want to? What if it’s something else bothering him and he just needs help like all little ones do? Lan Wangji thinks. But that would be okay. That would be okay if A-Yuan doesn’t want to. At least Lan Wangji has said his mind and maybe it is a step towards his redemption after Nightless City, his mind provides.
“Yes. A-Yuan would love to”, the boy lights up smiling and his small hands bring Hanguang Jun in an embrace.
Lan Wangji doesn’t realise he was holding his breath until he breaths in the soft baby smell of A-Yuan’s hair and looks up at his brother. Zewu Jun nods like he understands, smile on his lips, and leaves.
.
That night, Lan Wangji sleeps with A-Yuan in his arms, blankets bundled upon them, sandalwood scent in the air and for the first time in all these years after Burial Mounds, Lan Wangji dreams of the same radiant and carefree smile- this time in white Gusu Lan robes, inviting him to a jar of Emperor’s Smile above the rooftop.
.
He wakes up feeling warm and cozy next morning. His pale lifeless room coloured in a blended tone of rosy pink and subtle yellow with the rising sun. A-Yuan, still sleeping near the crook of his neck. His little legs thrown over Lan Wangji’s waist. He smiles to himself and holds a hand covering the light over A-Yuan’s eyes.
It’s not 5 am yet and it’s his son’s birthday. He would indulge.
He comes down from the bed, and pulls the curtain down. He thinks of starting about his day in his Lan way by meditating for at least an hour, but he has plans today.
He dons his outer robes and doesn't even bother with the headpieces. He picks his Lan ribbon up from his bedside table and puts it on. The cloud patterns from a smaller one peeks beside his. He hasn’t felt this peaceful and content in so long. Is it what Wei Ying felt every morning when he woke up with A-Yuan beside him in Burial Mounds, he thinks, despite himself.
He takes a look at sleeping A-Yuan and lets himself out of Jingshi, in the fresh and chilly air of a blissful morning. His way towards the mountains at the back.
.
He comes back with the bunnies.
The smallest ones. All three of them. He cleans their feet just outside Jingshi and brings them inside. It still is not 5 and he finds A-Yuan sleeping.
He comes near the bed, still holding the bunnies in his arms. He thinks of burying the sleeping A-Yuan in a pile of rabbits- surely Wei Ying would love it- when a tiny and still sleepy voice calls him “A-die”.
He smiles as he puts the bunnies on the bed, near A-Yuan’s feet.
“Bunnnnniiiiesss!”, A- Yuan sits up and his small grabby hands lift for the bunnies.
“Good morning, little one,” Lan Wangji says, sitting himself on the side of the bed, gently palming the nearest bunny’s ears. “Did A-Yuan sleep well?”, he asks his son and as he looks up, he meets the small face lighten up with the sheer joy of having his favourite bunnies on his bed.
“A-Yuan did”, the boy answers, with all his attention towards petting two bunnies together.
“Did A-die sleep well?” Lan Wangji finds himself being questioned. It warms his heart so good.
“Mn”, he hears himself saying, “A-die did, too”.
The third bunny runs down the bed just then, towards his study, and A-Yuan looks at him, as if asking for his permission to go after it.
He doesn’t have the heart to say how running is not allowed at Cloud Recesses this morning, and nods his yes. A-Yuan takes his two bunnies in his tiny hands and runs after the third, his “noooooo, bunny, stop, wait for me” leaving behind.
Bless father Hanguang Jun’s poor heart. He only has one.
.
.
.
This becomes their ritual.
Their very own bliss of a haven, where before his birthday every year A-Yuan would come to sleep with his A-die in the Jingshi. Sometimes, this one night, they don’t sleep at the hai hour, and A-Yuan would ask for stories, Lan Wangji would indulge him and tell him whatever he remembers of his own mother, or sometimes about a boy with a sunshine smile. Sometimes they would comb each other’s hair and after A-Yuan learns his guqin, they would play together.
And in the morning, every year, Lan Wangji would wake him up with bunnies on their bed.
.
.
.
When A-Yuan grows up a little, his classes as a Lan disciple becomes all-consuming and he gets ordered to go out on investigations or missions outside Gusu with Lan Jingyi and other students. Sometimes some investigations take months and he ends up missing his little birthday custom with his A-die and Lan Wangji misses his son too. But he has his duties as one of the Twin Jades of Lan and when Lan Sizhui writes him notes along with his investigation reports, he reads them a thousand times and replies to his heart’s content. Your boy, no, Our boy has grown up, Wei Ying, you would love him so much, he hears himself saying when he talks to Wei Ying’s memory in his dreams.
.
.
.
Then Wei Ying comes back.
Lan Wangji feels as if he is living inside his fever dream. And fears losing him again when he is not looking. He smiles more at Wei Ying’s presence. Their lives become busier with the onset of different cases at the Nie tombs or Yi city.
Then at Jinlingtai, the entire world gets to know how Yiling Laozu is alive and the ever righteous Hanguang Jun is staying by his side. Maybe Yiling Patriarch and his demonic cultivation have defected the generous Jade of Lan too, they say. Lan Wangji laughs to himself at the possibility and writes letters to his son who is on some mission with disciples, stating they are all well and his Wei Qianbei will be okay soon. Soon, you will know he is your Xian gege, he doesn’t write. Too soon, he thinks to himself.
.
Then after all the fiasco at the Guanyin Temple, they finally get their time and when their son springs himself at Wei Ying’s legs, Don’t ever grow up, A-Yuan, Lan Wangji hears his heart speaking.
.
.
.
Their little haven becomes a little bigger after Wei Yings finally moves inside the Jingshi.
It’s a chilly winter evening. Long after their dinner, Lan Wangji is back on his desk. Taking a break from grading the papers, he looks up at Wei Ying, sitting just across from him, surrounded by talismans, marking attentively on a piece of paper. There’s ink smudged above his nose, his hair- a mess, and a half bun -slightly loose- showing ends of Lan Wangji’s own Lan ribbon over his shoulder.
Lan Wangji touches his own hair and feels the softness of the red silk in his fingers, how fortunate, he thinks, like he does every day.
.
The thought comes to him suddenly. “Wei Ying. It’s Sizhui’s birthday, tomorrow.” he says knowing better than to trust Wei Ying’s memory.
“Lan zhan! You wound me,” Wei Ying says, fake mockery in his tone, “Of course, I remember!,” he says, not looking up from whatever he is working on, “Here, have a look,” he stands up, his paper in his hands, walks around the desk and sits down beside Lan Wangji.
“This is a new protection talisman, for our boy,” he says showing him the paper and looking at him. “The special thing is, when it’s cast, it creates holograms of bunnies around you to protect yourself. He likes bunnies, didn’t you say?”, he says, all charming smile on his lips.
Lan Wangji thinks his heart would combust. He loves this man with everything he has and yet he feels it’s nothing for what he deserves.
“Yes. He does. He loves bunnies. Wei Ying. When you weren’t here, he’d come-”
“To you every year the night before his birthday”, Wei Wuxian doesn’t let him finish, “and you two would sleep together without me and you would wake him up with-”
He doesn’t even get to finish himself before they see a very familiar silhouette hovering near their Jingshi door. They look at each other.
“Come inside, Sizhui”, they say together, smiling.
Lan Sizhui comes in. “Hanguang Jun. Wei Qianbei”, he greets them, bowing.
“Ah Sizhui Ah. How many times have I told you to call me Xian gege like before, huh?”, Wei Wuxian says, his hands over Lan Wangji’s own. “And what are you calling him Hanguang Jun for? You think I don’t know how you used to call him A-die?”, his teasing smirk back at it's place.
Sizhui feels his cheeks getting warm. He looks away to distract himself and looks at his palms before saying, “I… Jingyi, I and Wen Qianbei… We went to the town, today, for Qianbei needed something for his vegetable garden. We came back and I saw you two at dinner… but… I... I-”
“What is it, A-Yuan, you can tell us, whatever it is-” starts Wei Wuxian, but Lan Wangji puts his hands over him, which stops him from talking.
“Wei Ying,” He says, looking at Lan Sizhui, “Sizhui wants to spend some time with us,” a hint of smile on his lips.
Wei Ying, surprised, looks at Lan Wangji once. And in turn, looks at SIzhui’s red face.
And then he stands up “You! You, father and son! You two have become too good at reading each other’s faces in all these years I was absent! So Unfair!”, he comes to the door and closes it, “Teach me tonight!! How do you Lans even do it?”
.
That night, when Lan Sizhui comes back to his disciple quarters, it’s far past hai hour.
“Jingyi,” he calls a half-asleep Lan Jingyi, lying on the other bed, who replies “Mmm”, and whispers, “I have got my home back”, with tears in his eyes and smile on his lips.
And as he dives deep into sleep, he dreams of his younger self sleeping between his two fathers, in the Jingshi, a soft sandalwood scent lingering in the air.
.
Next morning if he wakes up with bunnies on his bed, and if he runs behind one when it frees itself from his petting hands, Lan Jingyi, Wei Wuxian and Hanguang Jun never saw it.
(Lan Qiren sees it, though, and screams his heart out. Running really is prohibited at the Cloud Recesses.)