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“Is there a written rule book,
that tells you how to be—
all the right things to talk about—
that everyone has but me?
Slowly I am withering—
a flowered deprived of sun;
longing to belong to—
somewhere or someone.”
There are over three thousand rules carved on the Wall of Discipline, displayed proudly for everyone to see right before they enter the sacred halls of the Cloud Recesses. Lan Wangji knows each and every one of them by heart. To him, the principles are sacred and deep-rooted in his being. A fundamental part of his identity, almost as tangible as pristine as the air up in the mountains of the Gusu Lan Sect, secure as his forehead ribbon, steady as his grip on Bichen.
Diligence is the root.
Those rules constitute the pillars of his life. Between them, he can stand proud.
Wei Wuxian barges into his life crashing through all of them.
Harmony is the value.
There is no harmony in the way the second young master of Yunmeng Jiang climbs over the wall and dangles off the roof, hands full of Emperor’s Smile. He looks messy, untrustworthy, and ready to start trouble. It stirs something new and uncomfortable deep inside Lan Wangji, a strange desire to be recognized by that baffling boy.
“Alcohol is prohibited,” he recites, but his chastising tone is met only with mirth.
“Okay, if alcohol is prohibited in the Cloud Recesses, then I won’t go in. I’ll drink it standing on the wall!” he proclaims, proud of his own cleverness, and then he proceeds to do exactly that.
Do not laugh for no reason.
When they end up fighting on the roof, Lan Wangji cannot stop looking at him, and under the annoyance, Wei Wuxian’s laughter still rings in his ear.
Do not fight without permission.
They end up broken more than one rule that night, and in years to come Lan Wangji will feel like a fool for not realizing sooner the kind of power Wei Wuxian would have over him. It was so obvious, since the moment they met: the way he could just manage to get expressions and actions out of him that no one else could.
~~~
His brother smiles at him over his cup of tea the next day as he brings up the topic of the fight.
“So I heard this young man caused quite the stir,” he uses the same casual tone as if he was talking about the weather, but Lan Wangji grips the cup tighter anyways. He expected something along the lines of: “This is not like you, Wangji,” because it really isn’t, that’s the point, and it shouldn’t be. The rules say so, and they are carved inside him as permanently as in the stone of the Wall of Discipline.
Be strict with yourself.
“Xiongzhang, I apologize for the disturbance. I was careless and failed to enforce the rules,” he says, and to his surprise, Lan Xichen lets out a soft laugh.
“It was not my intention to make you apologize, Wangji,” he explains, and his gentle smile now has a knowing edge. “I simply thought that you looked livelier than usual, after meeting Wei gongzi.”
“Livelier,” he repeats, staring at his older brother with a blank expression. He stares right back, still smiling and refusing to be deterred.
“Don’t you think so too?”
“Undisciplined,” he disagrees, “I will make sure he conducts himself properly from now on.”
~~~
It turns out that Wei Wuxian has absolutely no intention of conducting himself properly during classes. Lan Qiren’s face is turning an alarming shade of red and he has run out of objects to throw at his head.
Lan Wangji should be furious at his outrageous ideas about a fourth and tainted path of cultivation and fed up with his constant attempts to distract him during classes.
But the truth is he knew the correct answers to Lan Qiren’s questions. He could have answered and leave it at that, but for some unfathomable reason, he had felt the need to speak further, to cause another shift in Lan Wangji’s carefully constructed world. To manipulate resentful energy in such a risky way… Even if the strategist in him could recognize the value that such methods could have in a battle, he could never accept the way in which it hurts the body and soul; in which it could hurt Wei Wuxian.
Reject the crooked road.
Lan Quiren dismisses him before Lan Wangji can delve too deep into that thought. But now that Wei Wuxian is not there, he realizes how much he tends to look for him even if his eyes never stray away from his uncle during class. Somehow, that loud, infuriating boy tugs at the edges of his small world, demanding his attention with silly smiles and blatant misuse of the paper metamorphosis. He never has the heart to tear the paperman to pieces though, so he stoically endures it tugging at his sleeves and messing up his notes.
That silly paperman takes after its creator: his presence cannot be avoided or overlooked, no matter how desperately he wants to.
~~~
Wei Wuxian has come barging into his life and refuses to leave.
This becomes much more evident when they are stuck together in the Library Pavilion, and Lan Wangji confirms that Wei Wuxian's presence simply cannot be ignored.
“Lan Zhan!”
His carefully constructed impassivity comes to a screeching halt. He has to use all of his self-control to not stand there, gaping at the audacity of this boy—
Have a proper posture.
He tries to focus his mind on the rules, but even as he chastises him about not sitting properly, that bright, shameless laugh is still ringing in his ears, not letting him go.
“Lan Zhan. Let me ask you a question. Do you… really hate me that much?”
No, no, never, that’s what Lan Wangji would want to say. It’s just that you’re bright, so bright, and I’m not used to someone shining with so much light. I want to ask you a question too, hundreds of them… I want to hear everything you want to tell me, even if it’s just you teasing me.
There’s so much that he would want to say, and he stands there, furious with himself about all the things he wanted to say and he shouldn’t, he shouldn’t—
Be careful with your words.
So he pushes all of them inside his chest and ends up pale with anger and fighting with Wei Wuxian again (Wei Ying now, as he called him in his fury, and it sounded so right when he said it), but still, he cannot bring himself to throw the infuriating picture away, and that night, after the chaos in the Library Pavilion has subsided, he stares at it for an embarrassingly long amount of time.
Even with the flower painted as a mockery, the face staring back at him from the drawing was surprisingly calm. His eyes seemed brighter and more expressive than his own, and his posture more relaxed, like standing there reading filled him with calm. Is that how Wei Ying sees him? The man in that picture has nothing of the whirlwind of emotions that he causes in him, and Lan Wangji feels the sudden need to barge into his bedroom to explain everything that Wei Ying makes him feel. He unreasonably wants him to take responsibility.
A sudden and unwelcomed thought about his father comes to his mind. Is that how he felt, the first time he talked to her mother? Did she cause the same restlessness in him? Did he also felt the need to simultaneously run away from her, and to keep her by his side forever?
He wishes that he could ask him those questions, but his father seems as distant and unreachable as the snow at the top of the mountains that can be seen from Gusu.
~~~
The next day, he realizes that there is no escape from Wei Ying's presence and that his own brother is contributing to that fact.
“And, also, you wish for him to go as well, do you not?”
Lan Wangji finds himself incapable of answering that question, because saying that no, he definitely doesn’t, feels like the choice of a coward, and lying is prohibited. But the thought of saying yes, lately I want his presence more and more to Lan Xichen… Well, fleeing the Cloud Recesses and becoming a rogue cultivator is a more appealing option than that admission.
So he stares at his brother with as much offense in his gaze and he can muster, but he seems unaffected. The knowing look is back in his eyes.
Do not argue with your family, for it doesn’t matter who wins.
Lan Wangji decides to just let it go. After all, hunting water ghouls requires concentration, precision, and strategic thinking. Even Wei Ying would not dare to mess around in that situation.
~~~
He was wrong. He was deeply wrong, and he vows to never again underestimate Wei Ying’s ability to mess around in any given situation. He’s clearly an observant and skilled cultivator, so why is he constantly risking his life in such a stupid way—
“Why don’t I stretch my hand to you and you can grab it?”
For an instant, Lan Wangji contemplates flinging Bichen and the three people it carries right into the lake. But he maintains his iron grip on the collar of Wei Ying’s clothes. He simply cannot let him go, and the weight of that worry feels like too much. Even later, when Wei Ying proves that he’s unharmed enough to wander around flirting for food, that weight doesn’t seem to lift off his shoulders. His eyes still follow that bright, reckless boy like a moth to the flame.
At that moment he realizes, with a certainty that rattles his bones, that he’s never going to stop worrying about Wei Ying. Even if he’s someone that’s only temporarily turning his entire life upside down, even if he goes away suddenly just like he came, the need of seeing him happy and safe will never leave him.
Be loyal.
Lan Wangji stands very still in the boat with his brother, staring at the smiling Wei Ying as he eats loquats like he doesn’t have a care in the world, like he didn’t fight a waterborne abyss a mere hour ago. He stares at him as the storm that the revelation has caused inside him subsides.
“If you want to eat loquats, should we buy one basket?” Lan Xichen asks, and his voice pulls him out of his thoughts.
“I do not!”, he replies indignantly, and there is no lie in that sentence because what he does want is the person eating the loquats, the smiling mouth he cannot stop staring at.
None of the more than three thousand rules of the Wall of Discipline have taught him what to do with that sinking feeling of pure want, so he buries it deep inside him. The boats continue their slow descend through the river as if nothing happened. Around them, the hustle of a town brimming with life seems to fit right into Wei Ying’s bright and cheerful world, leaving him out of the picture.
~~~
The air is crisp and fresh at the top of the cliff, perfect weather to release the sky lanterns into the sky, along with their wishes. Lan Wangji is finding it difficult enough to stop staring at Wei Ying’s profile instead of focusing on his craft, and it proves even more impossible when he starts demanding his attention.
“I made this lantern specifically for you. Look!”
Even suspecting a new kind of mockery, he cannot resist the pull and turns towards him; Wei Ying’s presence is like an unrelenting force of nature, always demanding its attention.
He is welcomed by the sight of a bunny masterfully painted in the lantern. His shiny eyes stare at him from the paper, and Wei Ying has even drawn a little rock for him to sit on. Once again, Lan Wangji is struck with awe at how easily Wei Ying shows his affection, the effortless way in which he gives away little pieces of himself. Lan Wangji feels so incapable of exposing himself to the world in such a way that the man beside him shines even brighter in his eyes.
He mentally backtracks almost immediately. There is no affection there, just another token that Wei Ying so freely concedes to everyone. He shouldn’t presume he’s special in that regard, because that would lead him to a dangerous train of thought. After all, hope is a double-edged sword.
Even knowing that, he cannot help to smile at the little bunny painted in the lantern. It’s proof of the easy joy that seems to follow Wei Ying everywhere.
“You smiled!”
Of course I did, I was smiling at you because you always put so much effort and care even in the smallest things you do, and I want you to be like that with me always, always—
All the words he wants to say gather at his throat and threaten to emerge, and the thought of exposing such raw feelings is almost unbearable. He panics and almost draws his sword, as if he could physically fight the need to say so much to Wei Ying. A painful moment passes before he regains control of himself. He even thinks about leaving without even finish his lantern, but he’s aware of the gaze of his brother and uncle upon him.
Despite everything, there’s something shooting about releasing a wish to the skies while the flames of the lanterns lit up the night. He steals another glance at Wei Ying, who has remained stubbornly plastered by his side even after his earlier outburst.
The sight left him breathless: Wei Ying, with his hands clasped and eyes closed, an unusual calm washing over his face. He smiles, a tiny secret grin, just before he whispers his wish to be carried away with the lanterns into the night sky.
“I wish that I can protect the weak and little with a good conscience”
Be fair, and others will follow.
At that moment, Lan Wangji will follow him, without any doubt in his mind. But he keeps that certainty to himself as they stand together in the cliff, watching the sky lanterns drift away slowly.
~~~
Lan Wangji has to remind himself of the rule about not arguing with one’s own family several times to refrain from never speaking to Lan Xichen again.
He told We Ying about the cold spring. He told him when he would be there, healing and completely naked—
Wei Ying is babbling about friendship, describing his home with great fondness, and despite the teasing, Lan Wangji discovers that he really, really wants that, he wants to be in that scene Wei Ying is painting for him, eating in Lotus Pier together. It sounds so simple, so why does it fill him with a yearning for a place he knows he doesn’t belong to?
“Lan Zhan, do you wanna come?”
Yes, of course he wants to, he wants all of that everyday joy with him.
Do not be overly happy.
“No…” he answers, even as he hesitates. That kind of uncomplicated happiness that Wei Ying seems to carry around everywhere he goes is not for him. It could never be.
~~~
The two rabbits in his arms sniff at his clothes and wiggle their pink little noses. Lan Wangji refuses to look at his brother because he knows he’s struggling not to laugh at him. Wei Ying’s parting gift to him has been a final mockery to Wall of Discipline, but this one doesn’t fill him with annoyance or anger. One of the bunnies hops out of his arms and tries to climb Lan Xichen’s leg. It’s difficult to be angry about that.
There had been some back and forth between them about the risks of keeping the rabbits, but Lan Xichen had relented without much resistance, after seeing the protective way his little brother cradled them to his chest. Lan Wangji knows what made him change his mind: he rarely shows such attachment to anything. Or anyone, for that matter.
As always, Wei Ying constitutes the exception to the rules that he has constructed for himself over the years. Those same rules used to bring him comfort. They gave him solid ground to build the foundations of his life. Now, there were times when they filled him with deep loneliness. He hugs the rabbit tighter as he continues to pet his fur.
“It’s such a shame that Wei gongzi had to leave like that,” Lan Xichen comments, stroking the other rabbit with careful movements. After a pause, he added, “I’m sure you would have liked to spend more time with him.”
“Xiongzhang,” he protests, but that only makes Lan Xichen’s smile grow wider.
For an instant, Lan Wangji entertains the thought of confessing everything. He desperately wants to talk about the way Wei Ying seems to fit into his life so perfectly despite the chaos he brings with him. Xiongzhang, I feel like I was in a dark room and then he slid open all of the doors without my permission. Now the light is pouring inside, everything is too sharp, too bright, and I have no rule that can teach me how to face that.
The rabbit’s ears twitch under his palm. He locks eyes with Lan Xichen, and for a moment he looks like he can almost read those words written all over his face.
“Wangji,” his brother starts to speak with a careful tone. He pauses for a moment, considering how much he wants to say. “It is shameful of me to say this, but when I was younger, there was a time when I thought I could never forgive our father.”
Do not hold grudges.
Lan Wangji stares at him, dumbfounded. The thought of gentle, patient Lan Xichen holding a grudge, against their own father no less, is unthinkable. The rabbit in his arms grows tired of his sudden stillness and hops away, but he barely notices it.
“At first, I didn’t understand what had made me resent him,” he explains with an apologetic smile, “but it was wrong to harbor such negative feelings inside of me, so I try to reach the root of the matter, hoping that after understanding forgiveness will follow”.
“You did come up with an answer,” Lan Wangji states quietly, and it’s not a question. He has faith in his brother, and even after the unexpected revelation, the Lan Xichen’s he knows would never let resentment have power over him.
“I did,” Lan Xichen confirms. “It was not an easy admission, but I realized that I blamed him for not loving our mother properly. To my eyes, young as I was, love should be always comforting and convenient. But then, I realized just how wrong I was. Love isn’t always comfortable or easy; it requires so much compromise, even sacrifice sometimes. For me, there are times it resembles the final, sharp note of Liebing when I’m out in a night-hunt”
“Xiongzhang”, Lan Wangji repeats. He’s unable to say anything else. He’s caught up between the enormity of the admission he’s hearing and the sheer relief after discovering that he’s not alone in the turmoil that he’s feeling.
“That doesn’t mean I condone our father's actions. I just meant to say that sometimes loving someone means letting go of a certain feeling of security. A leap of faith, so to speak. Sadly, none of our rules can teach us about that. It is a path we must walk by ourselves.”
With a final smile, Lan Xichen gently deposits the rabbit in the grass, leaving Lan Wangji alone with his thoughts.
~~~
Do not be overly sad.
Lan Wangji is incapable to abide by that particular rule at that moment: his home is burning, all of his family is either dying or under the risk of being killed by the Wen and he’s trapped in a cave, wounded and tired to the bone after fighting a battle that seemed impossible to win.
He thought loss would be like a stone crushing his chest, but it feels more like an absence when the secure, warm feeling of his home once was. Now, that absence it’s being filled with hot-white fury, but he’s also tired, so tired of forcing himself to hold it together for days on end, limping away through the forest in enemy territory, shouldering insults and threats not only to him, but also to Wei Ying.
Wei Ying, who has pulled off his forehead ribbon at Nightless City without even knowing its sacred meaning, without having any idea of the storm he has unleashed with a mere gesture. Wei Ying, whose brilliance and recklessness were the only reason they were still alive right now.
Wei Ying, who has fought with him against The Tortoise of Slaughter, who has come out of the battle bloodied and shivering, holding that wretched sword. Lan Wangji wants to tear it out of his grasp, but he’s impossibly tired.
Wei Ying, who has listened without judgment or mockery as he poured his heart out to him, tears falling silently down his face as he thought about the Cloud Recesses burning down, about the lives that had been lost and all of the priceless knowledge contained in the Library Pavillion, now destroyed. Only then, trapped and desperate in that cave with Wei Ying, he had allowed himself a moment to grieve the destruction of the foundations of his being.
It doesn’t seem fair to Lan Wangji. It should be a limit to the meaning another person can have in one’s life. It shouldn’t be so vast, so unfathomable.
That man that means so much to him is getting weaker by the minute right in front of his eyes, and he’s powerless to do anything about it. The helplessness he had felt since the Cloud Recesses burnt down has returned in full force. He has almost no spiritual energy left, but he will give all of it to Wei Ying gladly, he will do anything, he can’t bear to lose him too.
“How about you sing a song?”, Wei Ying requests, and his voice sounds so weak that Lan Wangji doesn’t even hesitate as he opens his mouth and starts singing. He has already exposed so much vulnerability to this man he feels like his skin is made of glass; the slightest touch or harsh word could destroy him. After all of that, that final concession comes almost easily to him.
As his voice echoes through the cave and Wei Ying shivers beside him, Lan Wangji pours everything he has left into the song. All the words he couldn’t say back in Gusu, all the rules he made him question, all the moments he surprised him or left him breathless at the sheer wonder of someone like him even existing in this world. He doesn’t hide the ugly side of it either, and for a moment the song turns bittersweet with jealously and unexpressed longing. As he sings the last words of the tune, he thinks that maybe it was meant to be like that, maybe it was just as his brother taught him: love means venturing into the unknown, raw and vulnerable, with the best and worst parts of yourself uncovered, and hoping to be understood despite it all.
Have affection and gratefulness.
“It sounds nice”, Wei Ying sighs, and he still sounds so feeble, but at least he’s not shivering anymore. Lan Wangji allows himself a final moment of temptation and guides his head to rest in his lap. He marvels at how right that gesture feels, like they were meant to be like that.
“What’s it called?”
It’s called Wangxian, it’s named after you, after both of us, after all the things I yearn for and could never say to you.
Wei Ying falls asleep in his lap, and the cave is filled with silence.
~~~
One must not commit acts of promiscuity.
Lan Wangji’s world has been reduced to only two things: the feeling of Wei Ying’s skin under his trembling fingers, and the warmth of his mouth. He intended for the kiss to be a soft, momentary thing, but he should have realized that all those years of denying himself what he wanted would eventually take their toll. He feels repulsed at himself for stealing a moment of pleasure using such a cowardly tactic, but he’s almost at the end of his rope.
For years now, during the Sunshot Campaign and after it ended, he had to endure Wei Ying drifting further away from him each passing year, feeling powerless to prevent it. He wants to rip out the blindfold and reveal himself. He wants to grab Wei Ying by the shoulders and shake him until he starts to see reason again. If only he could force all the worlds buried in his chest to come out and make him listen, if only he could see all the years of longing and yearning for that bright laugh that seems dimmer each passing year, if only he could say let me take you back to Gusu with me, let me protect you—
But that’s all he will ever have, a stolen kiss in a forest, a memory to treasure and regret in equal parts.
He bits down at Wei Ying’s lower lip and feels him shiver, and at that moment everything becomes too much to bear and he flees, not daring to look back. The fury he feels as he runs away is directed and everything and everyone.
Make sure to act virtuously.
He’s furious with himself for the shameful way he just acted. He unsheathes Bichen.
Do not attach yourself to those in power and influence.
He’s furious with all the cultivators that dared to use Wei Ying as a war weapon, only to discard him when he wasn’t useful for them anymore. He buries Bichen into the nearest tree.
Love and respect yourself.
He’s furious even with Wei Ying himself, for letting those unworthy of him use him that way. He tears Bichen out of the tree and immediately slashes against another one, cutting it in half.
Above all, he’s furious with him for not being able to get past the icy walls Lan Wangji has erected around himself, but how could he? He’s so out of his reach as he was all those years ago in Caiyi Town, when he was a love-struck teenager admiring him from the other boat.
Despite everything, the flower Wei Ying threw at him before the night-hunt began is still carefully hidden inside his robes, as a memento of something that could never be.
~~~
Do not succumb to rage.
“Get lost!"
If those are meant to be the finals words he would ever obtain from the man he loved, then so be it. He was able to finally, finally release all the words that had been festering inside of him for years, and that will have to be enough. Even if the pain of rejection is tearing him apart, it will have to be enough. It seems like a fitting punishment, for all the years he didn’t dare to speak up, for not stopping Jin Guangshan’s machinations sooner.
Do not disrespect the elders.
Bichen is stained with the blood of his own Sect, and a distant part of him of screaming, horrified at what he’s done, but it feels like he’s outside his own body, contemplating the downfall from afar.
His uncle takes another careful step towards him, as wary as if he’s approaching a fierce corpse or a vengeful spirit, and maybe he has become one. He certainly feels like it.
“Wangji, stop this madness!” he screams, but the tone of his voice is more pleading than furious. “It is not too late to return to Cloud Recesses and accept punishment. The Yiling Patriarch’s fall doesn’t have to be yours, too. Just what outcome do you expect from all of this?”
Believe sincerely.
“Shufu, I could never say with certainty whether what Wei Ying did was right or wrong. Both of us are well past the point of judgment or farewells,” he answers, and his voice is filled with sorrow and determination in equal measure, “but no matter what, I’m willing to shoulder the consequences alongside him. I will honor the vow I made to myself.”
Have wins and losses.
Lan Wangji lets go of the breath he had been holding and tenses his grip on Bichen. Everything comes to a standstill. Despite the dim light of the cave, he can see with perfect clarity the horrified expressions on the faces of all the Elders that are present there to witness his hopeless last stand.
The moment of stillness passes, and Bichen slashes once again, exploding in a blue, cold light.
~~~
As he drags his beaten body up to the Burial Mounds, his bloodied back screams in agony with each step. The excruciating pain leaves him cold and indifferent. There is an empty space inside of him that cannot be filled anymore, a void that was only appeased with the certainty of Wei Ying at least existing in this world, even if he wasn’t by his side. Being aware that he was out there, planting vegetables in a barren land and making little A-Yuan laugh, was enough. After all he had lost, after all he had to sacrifice, he had at least that, even if he deserved so much more.
Now he doesn’t even get that comfort.
Uphold the value of justice.
How could he? There was no justice for Wei Ying, and now he wants to lit the entire cultivation world on fire and rebuild it in a way that never leads to a tragedy like this again. But he’s just one man, and there’s an ache setting deep inside him. For now, the only thing he can do is fight until his last breath to preserve what little legacy he has left of the man he loved.
~~~
Lan Wangji feels like the inside and outside of him are perfectly aligned: there are only raw, bleeding, open wounds in him, and he feels like they could tear him apart at any moment. Maybe it already happened, the day of the siege when Wei Ying died.
It is snowing at the Cloud Recesses, and all sounds are muffled. The silence of seclusion feels absolute; it isn’t only around him, but inside him as well. There is a well of sorrow inside his chest, dark and bottomless, and he’s drowning on it.
Be gentle and content in adversity.
He loses track of time. His existence is an endless moment of silence when once there was bright laughter.
“Wangji, please, talk to me,” his brother pleads from the other side of the door. He knows Lan Xichen has broken several rules just to be able to get there, but that thought doesn’t make him feel anything at all.
“Take care of A-Yuan for me,” Lan Wangji asks, forcing himself to break the silence. It is the only thing that seems to matter right now.
There is a moment of hesitation at the other side of the door, and Lan Wangji feels like that well of sorrow is overflowing, just please, please, don’t take that away from me too—
“I will, Wangji, I swear,” his brother finally answers, and if Lan Wangji could feel anything right now he will be probably crying with relief.
“He still has a high fever, but he will survive,” Lan Xichen explains. “He’s in good hands. I will keep an eye on him until you return to us.”
He feels like there’s nothing to return to, but deep inside he realizes it's the sorrow that overcomes him talking. Right now, silence has swallowed all of his words, but one day he will find them again. He spent too long silencing all of the things that really ought to be said.
“Take care of yourself, Wangji,” his brother says as a farewell, and then he hears his steps walking away through the snow.
Sometimes, during his seclusion, the silence is broken by the mourning song of the guqin.
~~~
“Look, look, his bunny friend came to visit!” A-Yuan yells excitedly, pointing to a speckled gray rabbit that has come to join the brown one he holds in his tiny arms.
“Mm. He did,” Lan Wangji agrees, and he gives more lettuce to A-Yuan to feed the new addition to the group, which leads to more excited cheers. The rabbits don’t seem spooked by that, and each day they get more used to A-Yuan’s presence.
Do not make noise.
Lan Wangji doesn’t feel like making any sound at all these days, save for the sparse and precious moments he can spend with his family, but if that child he now proudly calls his son wants to proclaim his happiness to the world then he can do it as loudly as he wants to. He should have the opportunity, and no one should find anything wrong about the way he freely expresses his joy, he—
“Wangji”, Lan Xichen calls him, and when he turns around he sees his brother climbing up the hill towards them. He has always been kind, but after Lan Wangji came out of seclusion, there is a new tenderness in his eyes laced with worry, as if he was a spooked animal that could flee at any moment. He hates making his brother feel that way, but he doesn’t have the words to ease his worries without lying. He can’t deny that most days he feels like a worn-out guqin’s string that could snap at any moment.
“Xiongzhang. Happy to see you,” he replies, since it’s the only small truth that he can concede.
“Me too,” Lan Xichen answers as he bends down to let a tiny white rabbit nip at his fingers. “I’m afraid I don’t have any food for you, little one,” he laughs and the rabbit hops away from him, offended for the lack of treats.
“Is there anything that requires my attention?” Lan Wangji asks reluctantly. After all, he treasures what little time he can spend with A-Yuan.
“Not at all. Nothing that I can’t take care of, anyways,” his brother answers, and Lan Wangji hears the unspoken words behind that sentence: “Nothing I cannot shoulder on my own if that means you don’t have to deal with the Elders.” Lan Wangji doesn’t have the words to thank him, but he knows his brother can see the gratitude in his face.
He knows Lan Xichen came to check on him, but he doesn’t ask about the scars healing in his back, nor about the branding in his chest. Today is not about opening old wounds, and for that, he’s incredibly grateful. For a while, the three of them sit in silence on the hill, surrounded by rabbits. A-Yuan laughs and laughs as some of them start climbing on top of him, and just for an instant Lan Wangji’s world regains its balance. A soft breeze blows through the trees; some of them are still sprouts planted to replace the ones that were burned when the Wen attacked. Beaten and battered, he will heal and stand proud again, as his home did.
Embrace the entirety of the world.
He doesn’t feel prepared for that, and maybe he never will. How could he forgive the world that turned his back on the person he loved the most? But grief has a strange way of working, and it comes and goes like the tides. So, even if it’s only for a little while, he feels at peace with the world.
Later that night, he will sit in front of his guqin, and he will play Inquiry once again. He feels like he has to try, he will never stop trying, but he won’t let grief guide his life from now on. There are still worthy things in his life, things that shine as bright as Wei Ying’s smile did, and he will cherish all of them. There are still people that count on him, a son to raise, juniors to train, night-hunts to protect those that cannot protect themselves. It is just as Wei Ying said when they released the sky lanterns into the night, all those years ago: I wish that I can protect the weak and little with a good conscience. Lan Wangji will uphold justice, for the man that didn’t get to have it. He will still love the things that he loved, and fight for the things he fought for. Slowly, very slowly, the world will start to rearrange itself.
Do not break faith.